• tC?i i ^^li ' w r ' VX^^ S I W >• <> fv .. t €Air; Ell A- K ^ ■*!■ 530 BKOADWAT."^'™"'*" 1859. ■■*f ^^^^^^ !/€%;> OP THE I'^'^sl "^ ^^ ■' ' ^' AMERICAN EPISCOPAL PtjI^PIT; "^ - tt^a '•^ -V? -I A I J' oa £-^ COMMEMORATIVE NOTICES OF DISTINGUISHED CLERGYMEN OP THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH IN THE UNITED STATES, FROM THE EARLY SETTLEMENT OF THE COUNTRY TO THE CLOSE OF THE YEAR EIGHTEEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FIVE WITH AN HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. BY WILLIAM B. SPRAGUE, D. D. NEW YORK: ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 530 BROADWAY. 1859. THIS VOLUME MAKES THE FIFTH IN THE SERIES OF THE "ANNALS OF THE AMERICAN PULPIT." "^ .5- EmBRED, according to Act of CongreBs, in the year 1858^ by Eobebt Cabtek AMD B£0TH£B3, in tho CTeit's Office of the District Coart of tlie United States, for tlie Southern District of New York. PREFACE. The principles upon which this work is constructed have been so fully set forth in the General Preface, that it may seem unnecessary to add any thing more specific, in intro- ducing the present volume. It may not, however, be amiss, as this volume may fall into the hands of some who have not seen the preceding ones, to say a word,' — even though it be at the expense of repetition, — of the princi- ple which has controlled the selection of its subjects. It is by no means claimed for it that it contains notices of all the prominent deceased clergymen of the Episcopal Church. Not a small number of worthy, and in their day highly honoured, men have fallen into such deep obscurity from the lapse of years, that it has been found impossible, after the most careful research, to construct any thing like a creditable memorial of their characters or usefulness — in respect to such, however, it is consolatory to reflect that time deals more leniently with their influence than with their names ; and that what they did for their generation descends, in the form of blessing, through numberless imperceptible channels and combinations to all posterity. Nor is it claimed for this volume, more than for the pre- ceding, that it embraces all the names worthy of being perpetuated, concerning which the requisite biographical material might have been obtained. Even after a cor- respondence with many of the more aged and influ- ential clergymen in various parts of the United States, YJ PREFACE. with a view to obtain the best list of subjects possible, I cannot flatter myself that none have been overlooked, whose merits justly entitled them to a grateful and honourable notice. I can only say that, with all the helps within my reach, I have made the best selec- tion I could ; and that, whatever different phases of opinion may exist in the Episcopal Church, no one has been intentionally slighted, — no one has been intention- ally preferred, — my sole object having been to represent the Clergy of the whole Church with all impartiality and fidelity. As a general rule, I have endeavoured to secure the delineation of character, not only from some surviving friend who could testify from actual knowledge, but from some one whose theological and ecclesiastical sympathies were in harmony with those of the person commemorated. To this rule, however, there have been a few exceptions ; though it is confidently believed that in no case has difference of opinion between the subject and the writer been the occasion of any distorted or unfair representation. Possibly it may occur to some, that among the early Clergy several names are embraced, which have too slight a connection with this country to form legitimate subjects for American Biography. But though the greater part of their lives was passed in England, yet the influence which they exerted upon the destinies of the Church in this land seems worthy of an enduring record, and upon this princi- ple is included the name of Commissary Bray, who, though his actual sojourn here was scarcely more than a brief visit, had more to do in giving character and direction to the infant Church of Maryland than perhaps any other man. Some, too, may doubt the propriety of giving the celebrated Whitefield a place, on the ground not merely PEEFACE. ^^^ that a large part of his life was passed in his native country, but that his relation to the Episcopal Church was of so loose and dubious a character that he could hardly be considered a minister in that Communion. The fact that he made no less than seven visits to America, — most of them of considerable length, and finally terminated his life here, might perhaps fairly entitle him to be reckoned among American Clergymen ; while the fact of his having received Episcopal ordination, as well as been a subject of Episcopal discipline,* and of his having never transferred his relation to any other body of Christians, would seem, notwithstanding all his disregard of rubrics and canons, to leave him with the full responsibility of a minister of the Episcopal Church. In addition to this, his career in this country was so intimately connected with the history of a number of the prominent Episcopal clergymen of his day, that it would be impossible to ignore the former, and do full justice to the latter. It will doubtless occur to the reader, in regard to this volume, as to the previous ones, that the same facts and incidents are sometimes substantially repeated in different sketches, and that the length of the sketches is not always in proportion to the standing of the respective subjects. In respect to the former, it is only necessary to state that the same facts often belong equally to the lives of several different persons, so that neither would be complete with- out them ; and as to the latter, it will readily be perceived that the amount of available material is not always deter- mined by the character of the individual to whom it relates; and some even who have exerted a wide and powerful influence, have still done it so silently as to • See Sketch of Commissary Garden, pp. 40, 41. yl[[ PKEFAOE. exclude the idea of any thing like extended biographical detail. In addition to this, that feature of the work which makes it so extensively the depository of personal recol- lections illustrative of character, necessarily leaves the length of the sketches to be determined, in a great degree, by those who contribute the commemorative letters. In preparing these sketches, recourse has been had to all accessible works, from which any valuable material could be drawn. Among the publications of a more gene- ral character of which the greatest use has been made, are the following : — Humphrey's History of the Propagation Society ; Abstracts from the early Reports of that Society, published in connection with the Anniversary Sermons; Hawkins' Mission of the Church of England ; Bishop White's Memoirs of the Protestant Episcopal Chui^ch in the United States ; Dalcho's History of the Protestant Episco- pal Church of South Carolina ; Updike's History of the Nar- ragansett Church ; Hawks' Ecclesiastical Contributions to the History of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Virginia and Maryland ; Bishop Meade's Old Churches, Old Minis- ters, and Old Families, of Virginia; Berrian's History of Trinity Church, New York ; Dorr's History of Christ Church, Philadelphia; Greenwood's History of King's Chapel, Boston; and the Collections of the Historical Society of the Protestant Episcopal Church. The honoured list of my contributors, in connection with the several communications to which their names are affixed, only partially reveals the amount of obligation I am under for the aid received in preparing the present volume. It was my intention to have furnished, in this connection, a list of those especially who have rendered .me important service, apart from direct contributions to the PREFACE. ix work; but on finding, after having reached forty, that there were still an indefinite number to be added, and being apprehensive Avithal that my best efforts at recollection would leave the list of my benefactors incomplete, I have thought best to content myself with a mere general acknowledgment. I would say, therefore, — ^to all who have assisted me in any way, whether by oral or written com- munications, or printed documents, by general hints or particular details, by sketches of history or delineations of character, I beg to offer my sincere and hearty thanks. Two exceptions, however, from the above statement it would be an act of injustice not to admit. One is my friend and former neighbour, the Rt. Rev. Bishop Horatio PoTTEK, who kindly gave me a note of introduction, com- mending my design to the Episcopal Church at large, and to which I doubt not that I may credit many of the cor- dial responses which have been returned to my requests for aid. The other is the Rev. Dr. Ethan Allen of Balti- more, whose numerous and important contributions have quite identified him with my enterprise ; who, though one of the busiest of men, has met my requests as promptly and fully as if he had nothing else to do ; and whose knowledge of the Episcopal antiquities, especially of his own State, gives to his communications an all but oracular authority. I cannot forbear to state, in this connection, what must be especially gratifying to members of his own communion, that he has in the course of preparation a work entitled " The Life and Times of Bishop Claggett," which, from the nature of its subject, as well as the skill and intelligence which he will be sure to bring to it, can hardly fail to take its place among the standard Episcopal produc- tions of our country. X PREFACE. I cannot bring myself to pauce at this stage of my labour without again proffering my grateful acknowledg- ments to the Christian public at large, and especially to those who preside over the newspaper and periodical press, for the many generous words of approval which they have bestowed on the preceding volumes. In introducing to their notice the present volume, I frankly acknowledge that my solicitude is not a little increased by the fact that the denomination of which I have undertaken to treat, and that to which I belong, however they may be united in bonds of Christian good-will, have no direct ecclesiasti- cal relations with each other ; and hence the apprehension that I may have been unwittingly betrayed into some minor mistakes, which a more intimate knowledge cf the economy of the Episcopal Church would have prevented. I am willing to believe, however, that the very extensive and efficient co-operation of prominent ministers as well as private members of the Episcopal Communion, with which I have been favoured, has been a security for a good degree of correctness, even in respect to less important matters; and I can only express the earnest wish that the confidence and hearty good-will with which these respect- able and venerable men have met my applications for aid, may be, in some degree, rewarded by their finding in the result of my labours a tolerably faithful record of the great and good of their communion, who have passed away. To all who have placed me under obligation, either by their generous sympathy with my object, or their ready com- pliance with my wishes, and to the whole body of Chris- tians whom they represent, may grace, mercy, and peace be multiplied. "Vy. B. g, Albany, July, 1858. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.* Nothing is here attempted beyond the merest outline of the History of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States. It is designed as a sort of frame- work to hold together the group of portraits which are here collected. It barely indicates the field in which these men of the past have earned their claim to a grateful remembrance. Even the few facts which it embodies are most of them stated in anticipation of the more detailed account which will be found in connection with the lives with which they were more immediately identified. The Protestant Episcopal Church, or as it was originally, the Church of England, in this country, dates back to the first settlement of Virginia, in 1607. As the emigration from the Mother country increased, and diiferent Colonies were successively established, it might naturally be expected that a portion at least of the Colonists would wish to reproduce, on this side of the Atlantic, the religious institutions under which they had been educated. This, indeed, was the case ; and yet, owing to various adverse circumstances, — such as the influx of settlers from other countries, the dissatisfaction, especially of the Northern Colonists, with the Establishment at home, as well as the disad- vantage necessarEy attendant on being separated by the ocean from the foun- tain of all ecclesiastical influence, — owing to these several causes, the Church of England in this country had a long and feeble minority. Forming, as she did, part of the Diocese of the Bishop of London, and being of course far removed from all immediate Episcopal inspection ; having no means of keep- ing up her ministry, except as she received fresh supplies from England, or sent her own sons thither for ordination ; it was not strange that it er-rly became an object of primary interest with her to secure the establishment of an independent Episcopate in this country. In her efforts to do this, how- ever, she was met with a decided and earnest opposition from other denomina- tions, on the ground of the recognised superiority which such a measure was supposed to imply, involving also a departure from the principles on which the settlement of the Colonies had been made. The severest struggle on this sub- ject was a little after the middle of the last century ; and it enlisted some of the ablest pens in the country, among which were those of Doctors Chandler and Apthorp on the one side, and Doctors Mayhewand Chauncy on the other. * Bishop White's Memoirs of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States.— Wil- berforce's History of the Protestant Episcopal Church in America. — Encyclopedia of Religions Knowledge. — Encyclopedia Americana. — Swords' Almanac, 1857. xii HISTORICAL IXTIiODUCTION. Though the Church of England had numbered among her American Clergy, previous to the Revolution, not a few eminent men, yet, up to that time, and indeed for a considerable period afterwards, her energies were but very par- tially developed. In the whole country North and East of Maryland, the number of parochial clergymen, at the commencement of the War, did not exceed eighty ; and all, with the exception of those who resided in Boston and Newport, New York and Philadelphia, received the principal part of their support from the Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts. In Maryland and the more Southern Colonies, where her Clergy were supported by a legal establishment, their number was much larger ; though this very feature of her condition naturally awakened the jealousy of other denomina- tions, and, however it may have contributed to her growth and influence, must have involved at least a drawback on her peace and comfort. During the progress of the Revolution, the interests of all the denomina- tions, and of Religion generally, suffered greatly from the engrossing and agitating scenes of which almost the whole country became the theatre ; but undoubtedly the Church of England had the hardest lot of all; for she, especially as represented by her Clergy, was considered as the very imperson- ation of rebellion. That spirit of independence that burned to the nation's inmost heart, could not tolerate the least holding back from the contest that was expected to make us a free people ; while, on the other hand, a large por- tion of the Clergy felt pressed, by both their civil and ecclesiastical obliga- tions, to remain true to the British Crown. The consequence of this was that many of them were forced to leave their country, — some finding a refuge in England, and others in the Provinces; while those who remained behind, and held fast to their loyalty, had scarcely any thing else left, unless it were the testimony of an approving conscience. The very small number who were enabled to continue their ministrations, succeeded in doing so, either by their remarkable prudence, or by engaging in conflicts or submitting to deprivations, which must have rendered life itself little less than a burden. Looking at their course from the stand-point which we now occupy, we may well afibrd to honour the motives which controlled their conduct, while we give thanks to the God of nations for having smiled upon the course which they felt them- selves conscience-bound to oppose. As the churches in this country, previous to the Revolution, had been united only through the medium of the Bishop of London, so, when that bond came to be severed by the acknowledgment of our Independence, it was necessary that they should be combined on some new principle of association. The first step towards this result was taken at a meeting, for another purpose, of a few clergymen of New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, at New Brunswick, N. J., in May, 1784. Another meeting was held in New York, in October following, which resulted in agreeing upon a few general principles to be recom- mended in the respective States, as the basis on vrhich a future ecclesiastical government should be established : these principles involved a recoo-nition of Episcopacy and of the Book of Common Prayer ; and provided for a Repre- HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. xiii sentative Body of the Church, consisting of Clergy and Laity, who were to vote as distinct orders. A third meeting, which had been agreed upon at the second, was held in Philadelphia in September, 1785, in which seven of the thirteen United States were represented, — namely, from New York to Vir- ginia, inclusive, with the addition of South Carolina. At this meeting, the first business was to make certain alterations in the Book of Common Prayer, accommodating it to the recent changes in the State ; and to propose certain other alterations which were thought to be an improvement in the mode of stating some of the Articles of Faith. These were published in a book ever since known as " The Proposed Book." The Rev. Dr. Scabury of Connecticut had, sometime previous to this, applied to the English Bishops for Episcopal Consecration, but, after having become discouraged by protracted delay, had transferred his application suc- cessfully to the Non-juring Bishops of Scotland, and had, a few months before this meeting, returned to this country, and entered upon his Episcopal duties in Connecticut ; and two or three gentlemen from the Southern States had already received ordination at his hands. The members of this Philadelphia Convention, though entertaining great respect for Bishop Seabury, and gene- rally admitting the validity of his Episcopacy, were still disposed to make a vigorous effort to secure the office directly from England. Having taken mea- sures to remove certain obstacles which were understood to have prevented the success of Dr. Seabury, they framed an Address to the English Bishops and Archbishops, respectfully acknowledging the favours they had formerly received from them, through the medium of the Society for Propagating the Gospel, stating their desire to perpetuate among them the doctrine, discipline, and worship of the Church of England, and praying that their Lordships would consecrate to the Episcopate such persons as should be sent with that view from any of the different States. This Address was forwarded by a Com- mittee appointed for the purpose to John Adams, then the American Minister at the Court of St. James, with a request that he would deliver it to His Grace, the Archbishop of Canterbury. Mr. Adams cheerfully complied with the request, and at the same time made some explanatory statements to the Arch- bishop, which were adapted to promote the object. In the spring of 1786, the Committee received an answer, signed by the two Archbishops, and eighteen Bishops out of the twenty-four, expressing themselves well disposed to comply with the wishes of the Convention, but desirin" some further information in regard to the alterations which had been made in the Book of Common Prayer and the Articles of Religion ; a report having reached them that those alterations involved a material departure from the Church of England. Soon after the receipt of this letter, another came from the Archbishops of Canterbury and York, stating that they had seen the "Proposed Book," and specifying several things in it which they deemed exceptionable ; at the same time informing them that they were likely to obtain an Act of Parliament enabling them to consecrate for America. Xiv HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. The objections of the English Prelates having at length been satisfactorily disposed of at a Convention held at Wilmington, in the State of Delaware, in October, 1786, the deputies from the several States were inquired of whether any persons had been chosen in them respectively for Consecration ; when it appeared that the Eev. Samuel Provoost, D. D., Rector of Trinity Church, New York, the Rev. William White, D. D., Rector of Christ Church and St. Peter's in Philadelphia, and the Rev. David Griffith, D. D., Rector of Fairfax Parish, Virginia, had been chosen by the Conventions of their respective States. The two former of the above named clergymen, having received the requisite testimonials, embarked together for England early the next month, and, on reaching London, were most kindly received by the American Minister, who not only introduced them to His Grace, the Archbishop of Canterbury, but did all he could in other ways to facilitate the object of their visit. Their Consecration took place in the Palace of Lambeth, on the 4th of February, 1787, — the service being performed by the Most Reverend John Moore, Archbishop of Canterbury. They returned to the United States immediately after, and entered at once upon the exercise of their Episcopal functions. The General Convention assembled on the 28th of July, 1789, and duly recognised the Episcopacy of Bishops White and Provoost, though the former only was present, the latter being detained by sickness. One of the principal subjects that occupied the Convention was the importance of taking measures to perpetuate the Episcopal succession. Dr. Griffith, who had been prevented from going to England for Consecration, had tendered his resignation to the Convention of Virginia, and had come on as one of their deputies to attend the General Convention at Philadelphia, but was taken suddenly ill and died before the close of the session. The Clergy of Massachusetts and New Hampshire had just before elected the Rev. Edward Bass, Rector of St. Paul's Church in Newburyport, their Bishop, and had addressed letters to each of the three Bishops, in Connecticut, New York, and Pennsylvania, requesting that they would join in consecrating him. Bishop White, being the only one of the three who was present, laid the letter addressed to him before the Body ; but while he expressed a strong desire that a permanent union might be formed with the Churches in the Eastern States, he inti- mated a doubt whether it was not due to the English Prelates that, before they should proceed to any Consecration, they should obtain from them the number which their Canons made necessary to such an act. Bishop White's opinion, thus expressed, proved to be the opinion of the Convention, though they passed a vote recognising the validity of Bishop Sealiury's Consecration— in -which their President concurred. The difficulty referred to was obvi- ated, not long after this, by the election of the Rev. James Madison, D. D., as Bishop of Virginia, and by his being consecrated iu England. Previous to the adjournment of this Convention, an invitation was given to Bishop Seabury, and the Eastern brethren generally, to attend the next session, to be held on the 29th of September, with a view to a permanent union. When the Convention reassembled, Bishop Seabury, with sundry cler- HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. XV gymen from Connecticut and Massachusetts, was present ; and the evidence of his Consecration in Scotland having been laid before the Body, a conference ensued between a Committee of the Convention and the Clergy from the East- ern States, the result of which was that, after one alteration of the Constitu- tion, made at the suggestion of the latter, the Convention declared their acqui- esence in it, and gave it their signatures accordingly. The first Consecration that took place after Bishop Madison's return from England was that of the Rev. Thomas John Claggett, D. D., elected by the Convention of Maryland, in 1792, — in which Bishop Seabury united with Bishops White, Provoost, and Madison. The Constitution formed in 1786 had provided that the arrangement of two Houses should take place as soon as three Bishops should belong to the Body; and as this circumstance occurred in the Convention of 1789, the House of Bishops was accordingly formed. The two Houses then entered on a review of the Liturgy ; the Bishops originating alterations in some Servi- ces, and the House of Clerical and Lay Deputies proposing others. The result was the Book of Common Prayer, as it was then established. The different portions of the Ordinal Office, were added at different times after- wards. Of the details of the History of the Protestant Episcopal Church, since the period now referred to, it does not comport with the designed brevity of this sketch to speak — suffice it to say that it has had a regular and vigorous growth, and has now a footing in every part of our country, not excepting even the most newly settled portions of it. The following statistics will con- vey some idea of its progress and present state : — In 1792, the number of its Bishops was five ; of its Clergy, one hundred and seventy-eight, exclusive of New Hampshire and Massachusetts. In 1832, there had been twenty-nine consecrated to the Episcopate, of whom fourteen were then living ; and the number of Clergy was five hundred and forty-eight. In 1857, the whole number of Bishops was sixty- three, — the number then living, forty ; and the number of the Clergy eighteen hundred and twenty- nine. The General Theological Seminary was first established in the city of New York in 1817. It was removed to New Haven in 1820 ; but the next year, being incorporated with the Theological Seminary of the Diocese of New York, it was removed back to New York city, where its present organization com- menced. Besides this, there are several flourishing Diocesan institutions for the study of Divinity, particularly one in Fairfax County, Virginia, one at Gambler, in Ohio, and the Berkeleian School at Middletown, Conn. There are also a large number of Colleges and other institutions of learning, scattered over the country, which are exclusively under Episcopal control. A Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society was established by the General Convention in 1829, which, in 1857, had in the Domestic field a hundred and twenty-six missionaries, and in the Foreign field, eighteen. The General Protestant Episcopal Sunday School Union and Church Book Society ; the Xvi HISTOEICAL INTRODUCTION. Protestant Episcopal Society for the Promotion of Evangelical Knowledge ; the Protestant Episcopal Historical Society ; the Western Church Extension Society ; and the University of the South, are all highly successful or promis- ing institutions, not under the control of the General Convention. The following paragraph, explanatory of the distinctive economy of the Protestant Episcopal Church, is extracted from an article contributed by the Rev. Isaac Boyle, D. D., formerly an Episcopal clergyman in Boston, to the Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge : — " The different Episcopal parishes throughout the United States are united by a Constitution which provides for a General Convention of the Church once in three years at some place previously determined, in which the Church in each State or Diocese is represented by Lay and Clerical Delegates, chosen by the State Convention, (every State or Diocese having a Convention of its own to regulate its local concerns,) each order having one vote, and the con- currence of both being necessary to an Act of the Convention. The Bishops of the Church form a separate ISouse, with a right to originate measures for the concurrence of the House of Delegates, composed ot Clergy and Laity ; and when any proposed Act passes the House of Delegates, it is transmitted to the House of Bishops, who have a negative on the same, so that the con- sent of both Houses is requisite to the passage of any Act. The Church is governed by Canons framed by this Assembly, and which regulate the election of Bishops, declare the qualifications necessary for obtaining the Orders of Deacon or Priest, the studies to be previously pursued, the examinations which are to be made, and the ages which it is necessary for candidates to attain before they can be admitted to the several grades of the ministry, which are three in number, and are believed to be of Apostolical institution, — namely. Bishops, Priests, and Deacons. Deacon's Orders can be conferred on no per- son under twenty-one, nor those of a Priest before that of twenty-four ; nor can any person be consecrated a Bishop until he be thirty years of age. The Thirty-Nine Articles are not signed by those who are admitted to Orders, as in the Church of England, but candidates are required to subscribe the fol- lowing declaration : — ' I do believe the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testament to be the Word of God, and to contain all things necessary to sal- vation ; and I do solemnly engage to conform to the doctrines and worship of the Protestant Episcopal Church in these United States.' These doctrines however, are understood to be contained in the Articles of Religion which are printed with the Book of Common Prayer, and implied in the Liturgy of the Church. In these documents the Trinity of Divine Persons, the Atonement of Christ, and the influence of the Holy Spirit in the renewal of the heart, Are recognised. In general, the doctrinal views of the Church accord with those which have been usually termed the doctrines of the Reformation, and were generally professed by those who separated from the Communion of the Church of Rome." CHRONOLOGICAL INDEX. [On the left hand of the page are the names of those who form the subjects of the work — the figures immediately preceding denote the period, as nearly as can be ascer- tained, when each began his ministry. On the right hand are the names of those who have rendered their testimony or their opinion in regard to the several characters. The names in Italics denote that the statements are drawn from works already in existence — those in Roman denote communications especially designed for this work — those with a star prefixed, denote mere extracts from letters or discourses not before printed.] SUBJECTS. WRITEKS. PAGE' William Blackstone Thomas C. Pitkin, D. D 1 1650. William Wilkinson Ethan Allen, D. D 4 1685. James Blair, D. D Dr. Waterland Dr. Doddridge Bishop Burnet George Whitefield 7 1096. Hugh Jones Ethan Allen, D. D 9 1697. W^illiam Vesey 6. B. Rapolye, Esq New York Paper 13 1700. Thomas Bray, D. D 17 1700. Evan Evans, D. D 22 1702. George Keith Robert Proud Bishop Burnet Alexander Arscott 25 1702. John Talbot Francis Hawks, D. D 30 1710. Jacob Henderson Ethan Allen, D. D 34 1719. Alexander Garden Dr. David Ramsay 39 1720. James McSparran, D.D Wilkins Updike 44 1722. JohnUsher Wilkir.s Updike 48 1723. Timothy Cutler, D. D President Stiles 50 1723. Samuel Johnson, D. D T. B. Chandler, D. D 62 1727. Henry Caner, D.D 61 1728. George Berkeley, D.D Sir James Mcintosh Wilkins Updike Rev. G. N. Wright 63 1729. Roger Price F. W.P. Greenwood, D. D 69 1729. Arthur Browne Charles Burroughs, D.D Rt. Rev. Edward Bass, D.D New Hampshire Gazette 76 1732. John Beach Sela Hubbard, D. D 82 173.5. William Brogden Ethan Allen, D. D 85 1735. Richard Peters, D.D Benjamin Dorr, D. D Rt. Rev. William White, D. D 88 1737. Henry Barclay, D. D Charles Inglis. D. D 91 1738. George Whitefield Dr. Franklin : Rev. Jotham Sewall 94 1739. John Cheekley John Eliot, D.D 109 1742. Thomas Cradock Ethan Allen, D. D Obituary Notice Ill 1745. Thomas Bacon ' Ethan Allen, D. D 117 1747. William Hooper Boston Evening Post C.A Bartol.D.D 122 1747 Samuel Auchmuty, D.D Charles Inglis, D. D Wilkins Updike 127 1747. Jeremiah Learning, D. D Miss M. L. Hillhouse 129 1748. Richard Mansfield, D. D Rev. Joseph Scott lat Xviii CHRONOLOGICAL INDEX. SUBJECTS. WRITEBS. PACE. 1749. John Ogilvie, D. D Charles Inglis. D. D 134 1751. Thomas Bradbury Chandler, D. D.. . 'Mrs. Dayton 137 1752. Rt. Rev. Edward Bass, D. D Edward Sprague Rand, Esq 142 1753. Richard Clarke Dr. Damd Ramsay Rev. Frederick Dalclio, M. D 146 1753. Rt. Rev. Samuel Seahury, D. D R. A Hallam, D. D Daniel Burhans, D. D 149 1753. William Smith, D". D London Critical Review Life of President Reed *W. R. Smith, E.sq 158 1755. Aaron Cleveland Professor C. D. Cleveland •D. D. Field, D. D Dr. Franklin 164 1755. Thomas Barton John Penn 168 1757. Rt. Rev. Robert Smith, D. D Rev. Frederick Dalcho, M. D Charles Eraser, Esq 170 1759. East Apthorp Andrew Barnaby, D. D Gibbon, the Historian British Critic Rev. Nicholas Hoppin 174 1759. Jacob DuchA United States Gazette Rt. Rev. William White, D. D 180 1759. Charles Inglis, D. D Hon. Brenton Halliburton 186 1759. Samuel Peters, LL.D Hon. J. S. Peters, LL.D A. B. Chapin, D. D Rt. Rev. George Upfold, D. D 191 Archbishop of Canterbury 1760. Jacob Bailey Rt. Rev. George Burgess, D. D Rev. W.S.Bartlet 200 1761. Thomas Dayies Memoir of his Life 205 1761. William West, D. D Ethan Allen, D. D 208 1762. Jonathan Boucher Francis Hawks, D. D 211 1762. Devereux Jaratt Kev. Edmund Withers •Samuel Seabury, D. D 214 1763. Leonard Cutting 'Rt. Rev. B. T. Onderdonk, D. D New York Daily Gazette 223 1764. William Walter, D. D William Jenks, D. D •Samuel Parker, D. D •A descendant of Dr. Walter 220 1764. Bela Hubbard, D. D Hon. John Woodworth 234 1764. Rt. Rev. Abraham Jarvis, D. D Daniel Burhans, D. D 237 1766. Rt. Rev. Samuel Provoost. D.D G. B. Rapelye,Esq 240 1767. John Andrews, D.D '. S. B. How, D.D John McAllister, Esq 246 1767. Rt. Rev. Thomas J. Claggett, D.D.. Rev. J. II. Chew Rev. W. H. Wilmer 251 1767. Abraham Beach, D. D Hon. W. B. Lawrence 255 1769. Joseph Pilmore, D. D Rev. R. D. Hall B. T.Welch, D. D 206 1770. David Griffith, D. D Rev.C. B.Dana William Smith, D.D 270 1770, Gideon Bostwick Hon. D. S. Boardman Rev G.L.Piatt 274 1770. Nicholas Collin, D. D Jehu C. Clay, D. D 277 1770. Rt. Rev. William White, D.D Rt. Rev. H. U. Onderdonk,D. D Rt. Rev. Alonzo Potter, D. D. LL. D. Hon. J. R. Ingersoll 280 1772. William Percy, D.D Rev. Frederick Dalcho, M. D William Jenks, D. D ' 2<53 1774. Rt. Rev. Samuel Parker, D.D 'A Parishioner \ •Charles Lowell, D. D '.'..'. ogg 1774. Rt. Rev. Benjamin Moore, D.D Rt.Rev.J. H. Hobart, D. D N. F. Moor*, LL.D .'."!"..'.'.".' David Moore, D.D Hon. G C. Verplanck '.'. 299 17/4. John Bowden, D. D Hon. G. C. Verplanck ani 1774. William Duke , Ethan Allen, D. D ' " ' 309 1775. Charles Pettigrew Edenton Gazette 315 1775. Rt. Rev. James Madison, D. D Hon. John Tyler ..'.'.'.'. CHRONOLOGICAL INDEX. xix SDBJE0T8. WRITERS. PAGE. Hon C.S.Todd 318 1775. John Buchanan, D. D Mra.Dr. J.H. Rice 321 1777. Nathaniel Fisher Hon. C. W. Upham *Kev. Charles Mason Hon. Joseph Story 328 1784. Charles Henry Wharton, D. D Kt. Kev. G. W. Doane, D.D. LL. D. Hon. Horace Binney 835 1785. Colin Ferguson, D. D Peregrine Wroth. M. D 342 1785. William Smith, D.D Hon. G. C. VerplancI; 345 1785. Philo Shelton William Sheltou, D. D 349 1787. Joseph Grove John Bend, D.D Ethan Allen, D.D 353 1787. SlatorClay Jehu C. Clay, D. D 355 1787. Tillotson Bronson, D. D Hon. J. A. Foot Frederick Holcomb, D. D 8.58 1787. John Sylvester John Gardiner, D.D. Rt. Rev. G. W. Doane, D. D.LL.D. \V. U. Prescott, Esq 8C3 1787. Et. Rev. Richard Channing Moore, Kev. George Woodbridge D.D Hon. John Tyler Kt. Kev. William Meade, D D 867 1789. Rt. Rev. James Kemp.D. D W. E. Wyatt, D. D S. J. Donaldson, Esq 374 1790. Kt. Rev. John Croes, D. D 'Alexander McWIiorter, D. D Archer Gifford, Esq 378 1791. William Harris, D.D J. M. Mathews, D. D John McVickar, D. D 383 1792. David Butler, D. D Hon David Buel 389 1793. James Abercrombie, D .D H. M. Mason, D.D David Paul Brown, Esq John Coleman, D. D Kt. Rev. W. H.Delancey.D.D. LL.D. 392 1793. Charles Seabury Samuel Seabury, D.D...' Rt. Rev. B. T. Onderdonk, D.D.... 400 1793. Walter Dulany Addison Ethan AUcni, D.D 403 1793. Daniel Burhans, D. D Kev. Samuel Buel 410 1795. Rt. Rev. Alexander Viets Griswold, Heman Humphrey, D. D D. D Stephen II. Tvng, D. D Rt. Ki'v. T. M. Clark, D. D 415 1797. Rt. Rev. Theodore Dehon, D. D Charles Burroughs, D.D Joseph Johnson, M. D 425 1797. Daniel Nash Rev. J. N. Norton Rt. Rev. Philander Chase. D D Rt. Rev. B. T. Onderdonk, D.D 433 1798. Rt. Rev. John HenrvHobart, D. D.. J. M. Mathews, D. D Hon. J. A. King 440 1798. Kt. Rev. Philander Chase, D.D... . Kt. Rev. B. B. Smith, D. D Rt. Kev. George Burgess, D. D 453 1799. Isaac Wilkins, D.D G. M. Wilkins, Esq ' •Kt. Kev. B. T. Onderdonk, D. D 462 1800. Rt. Rev. Nathaniel Bowen, D, D. . . . William Jenks, D.D Samuel Gilman, D. D 471 1801. Frederick Beasley, D. D Charles King, LL.D Nicholas Murray, D D George B Wood, M. D 477 1802. Rt. Rev. William Murray Stone, D.D. •Peregrine Wroth, M. D Rev. K. 11. Waters 484 1803. Beniamin Contee, D. D Ethan Allen, D.D Hon. W. D.G. Worthington 487 1803. James Morss, D.D...' Charles Burroughs, D.D 492 1804. Thomas Lyell, D.D Albert Smedes, D.D Rt. Rev. B. T. Onderdonk, D. D. ... 495 1805. John Churchill Rudd, D. D Benjamin Dorr, D D Rt. Rev. G. W. Doane, D. D. LL. D. 501 1806. John Reed, D. D 'Rev. Samuel Buel •Eliphalet Nott, D. D. LLD John Brown. D.D 506 1807 Rt. Rev. ChristopherE. Gadsden, D.D. Joseph Johnson. .M. D T. H. Taylor, D.D 510 1808. William H. Wilmer, D.D Ethan Allen, D. D Rev. Charles Mann 515 XX CHRONOLOGICAL INDEX. SUBJECTS. WRITERS. PAGE. 1809. Daniel Stephens, D.D Rt. Rev. J. H. Otey, D. D 619 1810. Dauiel McDonald, D. D Horace Webster, LL. D Henry Gregory, D. D 525 1810. Samuel Farmar Jarvis, D. D. LL. D. J . M. Whiton, D.D Rt. Kev. John Williams, D.D 530 1810. William Atwater Clark, D. D *Rt. Rev. B. T. Onderdonk, D. D John Miller. M. D 536 1811. Orin Clark, D. D Horace Webster, LL. D Rt. Rev. G W. Doane, D.D. LL.D.. J. S. Stone, D.JD 54J 1813. Rt. Kev. John P. K.Henshaw,D. D. John Coleman, D. D Rt. Rev. Thomas Atkinson, D.D. .. . 545 1814. Gregory Townsend Bedell, D. D Rt. Kev. 0. P. Mcllvaine, D. D 554 1814. Frederick Dalcho, M. D Joseph Johnson, M. D 560 1814. James Milnor, D.D Hon R. H. Walworth Rt. Kev. Manton Eastburn, D.D 562 1814. George Boyd, D. D K. B. Yan Kleeck,D.D '. . 572 1814. Titus Strong, D. D H. M. Parker, Esq Azariah Chandler, D.D C. S. Henry, D. D 575 1815. Walter Cranston Rev. Edward Andrews S. K. KoUock, D. D 580 1815. Abiel Carter Kev. J. B. Felt Rt. Rev. Stephen Elliott, D. D 584 1816. Benjamin Allen Kt. Kev. B. B. Smith, D. D 589 1816. James Montgomery, D. D Kt. Rev. G. W. Doane, D. D. LL. D. 596 1816. George Weller, D.D Kev. J. C. Passmore 601 1816. Hugh Smith, D.D Henry Anthon, D. D *Rev. H. S. Carpenter 605 1816. Rt. Rev. Jonathan M. Wainwright, D.D Hon. J. A. King Francis Vinton, D. D T. W. Coit, D.D 610 1817. Rt.Rev.Jno. Stark RavenscroftjD.D. H. M. Mason, D. D 617 1817. Keuel Keith. D.D E. W. Hooker, D.D William Sparrow, D. D R. Bethel Claxton, D. D Rev. Cleveland Keith 625 1818. James Wallis Eastburn James Romeyn, D. D Rt. Rev. Mantcn Eastburn, D.D... M.W. Dwight, D. D 635 1819. Jasper Adams, D. D Kev. C.C. Pinckney, Jr Samuel Gilman. D.D E. A. Park, D.' D 640 1820. George McElhiney, D.D Hector Humphreys, D.D William Pinkney, D. D 646 1820. William Jackson Rt. Kev. B. B Smith, D. D.. T.C.Pitkin. D. D E. P. Humphrey, D.D 651 1822. Stephen Wilson Presstman J. C. Clay, D. D Rt. Rev. Alfred Leo, D.D...; ... 658 1824. Edward Neufville, D. D William Bacon Stevens, D D 661 1825. Edward Thomas Rt. Rev. W. R. Whittingham, d! D. Alexander W. Mai-shall, D.D Rev. Paul Trapier Keith f,64 1826. Edmund Dorr Griffin Mancius S. Hutton, D. D G69 1826. John Alonzo Clark, D. D William Bacon Stevens, D. D ... Rev. Francis Peck ' 674 1827. Jarvia Barry Buxton Rev. J. C. Huske .' H. W. Ducachet, D. D. ..!.".'!.".".".!! 679 1827. Thomas John Tonng Rev. J. W. Miles Mrs E. Fludd '.'.'.".'.".".'. Alfred Huger, Esq ' 687 1828. William Croswell, D. D Hon Joel Jones. Richard II. Dana, Jr., Esq'.'. '.'.'.'.'.'.'. ,„,„.. ^'- ^'^^' G. W. Doane, D. D. LL. D. 097 1831. WilUam M. Jackson Rt. Rev. John Johns D.D 704 1832. Samuel Seymour Lewis, D. D Rev. J. A. Massey . .'.......!.!. 714, 1833. Daniel Cobia Rev. C. C. Pinckney, Jr.! '. 719 CHKONOLOGICAL INDEX. XXI SUBJECTS. 1835. Abraham Kaufman 1835. Samuel Hassard 1836. John Walker Brown 1836. Nathanael Phippen Knapp 1837. Abednego Stephens 1838. Benjamin Davis Winslow 1838. Philip William Whitmel Alston 1838. John David Ogilby, D. D 1840. J.imes Chisholm 1841. Andrew Wylie, D. D 1841. Stephen Patterson . 1843. Arthur Carey 1845. Albert William Duy WRITEttS. PAGE. George Duffield, D D thomas H. Taylor, D. D Kt. Rev. Horalio Southgate, D. D... Rev. W. W. Spear, D. D 723 Rt. Rev. H. W.Lee, D. D 735 A. W. Bradford. LL. D S.H. Turner, D. D 739 A. P. Peabody, D.D William U. Lewis, D.D 742 Rt. Rev. J.H. Otey,D.D 746 Frederick Ogilby, D. D 750 Rt. Kev. J. H. Otey, D. D E. H Cressey, D. D 754 Alfred Stubbs, U. D Rt. Rev. G. W. Doane, U. D. LL. D. 760 D. n. Conrad, Esq Rev. R. n. Wilmer Kev. I. W K. Handy 788 Robert Baird, D.D lion. Henry A. Wise W. H. McGuffoy, D. D. LL. D Alfred Ryors, D.D R. B. Claxton, D D 779 Evan M. Jolmson, D. D *J. Roach, Esq A. Cleveland Co.xe, D. D Rt. Rev. J. H. Otey, D. D 789 Kt. Rev. John II. Hopkins, D. D. . . . A.Cleveland Coxe, D. D 799 Rev. Samnel A Clark •Rt. Rev. Thomas M. Clark, D. D Rev. George II. Clark Benjamin C. Cutler, D. D 807 WILLIAM BLACKST^ONE. -1675. FROM THE REV. THOMAS 0. PITKIN, D. D., RECTOn OF ST. PETEb's CHUUCH, ALBANY. Albany, February 26, ISSS. My dear Dr. Sprague : The materials for the life of William Black- stone, as I have already intimated to you, are very scanty. He is chiefly worthy of mention, as being one of the two or three earliest Episcopal cler- gymen residing in New England.* What were his doctrinal or ecclesias- tical views, is not known with certainty. It is very clear, however, that they did not accord with those prevailing in the Massachusetts Colony, and they did but partially accord, and only so far as toleration was concerned, with those of the neighbouring Colony of Rhode Island. He must have come to this country between the years 1620 and 1630, for he was found by the Massachusetts Bay Colony, on. their arrival in this latter year, com- fortably settled on the Peninsula of Shawmut, where the city of Boston now stands. He had a cottage built, and a garden planted. Difficulties soon arose between him and the new comers, and he sold his house and farm, and the orchard that he had planted, and removed to the more toler- ant Colony of Roger Williams, remarking that " he had left England to escape the power of the Lord's Bishops, but he found himself in the hands of the Lord's Brethren." He had a high reputation for learning, and his library was very large. The high ground on which his house was built, about six miles from Provi- dence, still bears the name of Study Hill, and the local tradition is yet fresh that on that hill he lived, and pursued his quiet studies. He seems to have had a calm and peaceful life, after his removal to Providence. He was probably the earliest pomologist in New England, having a fine orchard of apples on his farm at Shawmut, when he removed to the Colony of Rhode Island. •In 1606, a ship was despatched to the Northern parts of America, by some members of the Plymouth Company ; but it was taken by a Spanish fleet, carried to Spain, and condemned. Nothing daunted by this unsuccessful attempt, they fitted out two more ships the ne.xt year, in one of which came the Rev. IliCHAHD Seymour, [Ri. Seymer,] who preached to a consider- able part of the company at St. George's Island, on the 9th of August, and preached again,^ on the 19th of the same month, at the Plantation of the Colony, at the mouth of the Sagada- hoc; and, after the sermon, was, with several others, sworn as one of the Assistants of the^ Colony. He was the first ordained Protestant preacher in America, North of Virginia; though, the Colony of Be Monts, which sailed, under the auspices of the King of France, for the- iSchoodie, or St. Croix River, in 1604, and which was composed partly of Romanists and partly of Protestants, had among the latter a Huguenot religious teacher, who is said to have given ^'public religious instruction to the Colonists on Sundays and other times,'' by the name of IjEsarbot. .loH.v LypoRD, who was a clergyman of the United Church of England and Ireland, came over to Plymouth in the spring of 1624. Here he exercised his ministerial function for a time,, but became involved in serious difiScuIties, and ultimately was banished from the Colony. Ho afterwards ofSoiated as a clergyman in Nantasket, and at Salem, and finally removed to Virgi-- nia, where ho died shortly after. There is some reason to believe tliat his widow subsequently returned to Massachusetts. Morton nnd Bradford both exhibit his char.actcr in a most unfa- vourable light, but Hubbard puts in a plea of abatement. Vol. V. 1 2 EPISCOPALIAN. The first notice that I ever found of Blackstone, was in the Literary Diary of President Stiles. He is there called an Episcopal clergyman, (his name being spelled in three different ways, — namely, Blackston, Blax- ton, and, Blackstone,) ancj is said to have " sold the land of Boston in 1631, (?) and removed to Blaixton River, and settled six miles North of Providence." Dr. Stiles says that he was a great student, with a large library ; that he rode a bull for want of a horse ; that he preached occasionally ; that he was living in 1675 ; and that his house and library were burnt in King Philip's war. Dr. Stiles visited his grave in 1771, and made a careful map of the whole region in his diary, marking the houses of Blackstone, Roger Williams, and the famous Samuel Gorton.* It is probable that three such originals have seldom been brought together. Being at Providence a few years since, I found my way, with no little difficulty, to the spot visited so many years before by Dr. Stiles, and there was the grave still distinctly marked by two white stones. In the Massachusetts Historical Collections, there is the following notice : — " When the first planters of Massachusetts arrived in the year 1630, they found Mr. William Blackstone, an Episcopal minister, already seated on the Peninsula of Shawmut, now the city of Boston, at the West part of it, where he had a cottage, a garden plat, and subsequently an orchard planted by his hand. Having escaped the power of the Lord's Bishops in England, and soon becoming discontented with the powers of the Lord's Brethren here, he made a removal about the year 1635. " His death occurred May 26, 1675. He lies buried in classic ground, on Study Hill, where it is said a white stone marks his grave. His name will be found in the first list of freemen of Massachusetts, in 1630, and we hope and trust the musing stranger will hereafter find it on some marble tablet of historical inscription, by the side of his spring, and the banks of his stream." Hist. Coll. 2d Series, Vol. x. p. 170. When or how this mysterious personage reached Boston no one knows. At least Mr. James Savage acknowledges his ignorance ; and what he does not know of such matters, we may be pretty certain is not to be known ; * Samukl Gorton came to this country from London in 1636, and soon occasioned much dis- turbance in the church in Boston by his erratic religious notions. He next went to Plymouth, where he was subjected to corporeal punishment for his errors, and thence in June, 1638, removed to Khode Island. At Newport he was subjected to a similar discipline, on account of his con- tempt of the civil authority. In 1640, ho went to Providence, where Eoger Williams, though approving of neither his principles nor his conduct, treated him withgreat humanity. Having, with some others like-minded with himself, settled down at Patuxet, they proved very trouble- some neighbours, and a charge was brought against them of unjustly seizing the estates of other people. To this charge Gorton was summoned by the Governor of Massachusetts to answer ; but he refused on the ground that he was not within that jurisdiction. He treated the message with great contempt, and was thereupon apprehended, carried to Boston, and tried, and ordered to be liept in close confinement at Charlestown. After being thus confined for one winter, he, with others, was banished the Colony. They obtained an order from the King, August 19, 1644, that they should peaceably enjoy their lands, which were incorporated by the name of Providence Plantations in Narragansett Bay ; and the chief town they named Warwick. In 1648, Gorton was again in Poston, and was threatened with punishment, but was soon restored to his plantation, where he lived to a great age. He ofiiciated as a minister at Warwick, dis- seminating his peculiar doctrines, though it is not easy at this day to decide very definitely what they were. He, however, believed that the sufferings of Christ were within his children, and that He was as much in this world at one time as at another ; that all which is related of Him is to be taken in a spiritual sense ; that He was incarnate in Adam, and was the image of God in which he was created. He published Simplicity's Defence against the soven-h' aded policy, which waa answered by Mr. Winslow; Antidote against Pharisaical teachers; Saltmarsh re- turned from the dead, 1666; a Glass for the people of New England. WILLIAM BLACKSTONE. 3 but it is a curious historical fact that, as early as 1630, only ten years after the settlement of Plymouth, he was found by the Massachusetts Col- ony, on their first arrival. There was at least one person that sympathized with him, — namely, Mr. Samuel Maverick, living on Noddle's Island, ir Boston Harbor, who is described by Johnson, in his Wonder-Working Providence, as '• an enemy to the Keformation in hand, being strong for the Lordly Prelatical power." Johnson also speaks of the Rev. Mr. Blaxton, as living on the South side of the river, on the point of land called Blaxton Point. There is an account of Blackstone's sale of the land on which the city of Boston is now built, in the Second Series of the Massa- chusetts Historical Collections, Vol. iv., p. 202. Dr. Samuel Hopkins speaks of Blackstone as a man of learning, and says with caution, — " He seems to have been of the Puritan persuasion, and to have left his country for his non-conformity." But the preponder- ance of authority would seem to be against this opinion. He adds that " he used to come to Providence and preach, and to encourage his hearers, gave them the first apples they ever saw." Lechford, who wrote in 1641, thus speaks of him : — " One Mr. Blackstone, a minister sent from Boston, having lived there nine or ten years, because he would not join the church ; he lives with Mr. Williams, but is far from his opinions." Having occasion to address a missionary meeting, a few years since, in the city of Providence, I alluded to him nearly as follows, and I quote the words then used, because I know none better to express my opinion of his probable standing in the Church. Having shown that missionary work could not be safely left to individual and private effort, I continued thus : — " I visited this morning, with feelings of peculiar and painful inte- rest, the grave of one of the first, if not the very first, of the Church Clergymen of New England. The Rev. William Blackstone, one of the early settlers of Rhode Island, and from whom the Blackstone River and Canal receive their name ; — a man of learning and unblemished character, who must have migrated to this country almost immediately after the landing of the Puritans at Plymouth Rock, and whose farm once covered the whole Promontory on which the city of Boston is now built, was a clergyman of the Church of England. And here, on the outskirts of this city, did he spend a long life, in the immediate neighbourhood of Roger Williams, and the scarcely less celebrated Samuel Gorton, leaving so little trace of himself that, to this day, it is not certain whether he remained firm in his allegiance to the Church at whose altars he had vowed to serve, or fell in with some of the popular opinions of his day. The truth doubt- less is that he came to this place expressly for retirement and repose. Wearied with the troubles in his native country, and finding very soon among the Puritans of Massachusetts causes of disquietude, similar to those which had driven him from home, he came here for rest, and at his retreat at Study Hill, with his ample and well selected library, with none to molest or disturb him, he endeavoured to serve God in quietness and peace." Very truly yours, THOMAS C. PITKIN. 4 EPISCOPALIAN. WILLIAM WILKINSON. 1650—1663. FROM THE EEY. ETHAN ALLEN, D. D., ASSISTANT MINISTEK OF ST. PETEk's OHUBCn, BALTIMORE. Baltimokb, Md., January 10, 1858. My dear Sir : The first mention we find of the Rev. William Wil- kinson is in the Colonial Records of the Provincial Government of Mary- land. I have examined those Records personally, and drawn from them the materials for the following sketch. And I have been induced to gather and embody these materials from a conviction that it is due to those who first preached the Gospel, and established the Church, in this wilderness land, two hundred years ago, that they should not be utterly forgotten. Mr. Wilkinson came over from England in the year 1650. He was a clergyman of the Established Church, and came hither to make his perma- nent home. He had had the misfortune to lose the wife of his early years, who left him with two daughters. Having then married another, — a widow with one daughter, he left the land of his fathers, and crossed the ocean, to plant himself here. The population was then small, — less probably than a thousand souls ; and the wild Indian had been dislodged from his many tented grounds in this Province, but in two instances at most. Mr. W. came hither, as a minister of Christ, — not to a Church endowed, nor to a people having ability to support him, — for the colonists were as yet all poor ; but to do his Master's work, and to support his own family. He brought with him his wife, — Mary, and her daughter, Elizabeth Budden, his own two daughters, — Rebecca and Elizabeth, and three inden- ted servants, — William Warren, Robert Cornish, and Ann Stevens, — being in all nine persons. These indented servants were such, for the term of four Or five years, to pay the expenses of their being brought over from England. At the end of the term of their indentures, each one was enti- tled to one year's outfit from his master, and one hundred acres of land from Lord Baltimore. These were great inducements for poor men and women in England to migrate to Maryland. And besides, at the end of their term of service, upon their taking up land, they became freemen, and entitled to all the rights and privileges of such in the Province. The con- sequence of this arrangement was that not a few of this class early became wealthy, and others were advanced to public stations, and thus placed their descendants in a position in society, which made them willing to forget the humble condition of their ancestry. Mr. Wilkinson was entitled, by Lord Baltimore's terms of plantation, to nine hundred acres of land ; that is, to a hundred acres each for those com- posing his jhousehold. This was granted him on the 1st of October, 1650, and was laid. out on the Patuxent River, some fifteen or twenty miles North of St. Mary's. He was required, however, as were all others, to pay Lord Baltimore a quit-rent of two shillings per hundred acres. ' Mr. Wilkinson was the first Church of England clergyman who had come into the Lord 'Baltimore's Province, though it had now been settled for sixteen years. He was not indeed the first clergyman of that Church, WILLIAM WILKINSON. 5 who is known to have settled on what is now Maryland soil,* but the first in the settlement at St. Mary's. In this settlement there were, at this time, certainly three places for Protestant worship, — namely, Trinity Church, six miles West of St. Mary's City ; Poplar Hill Church, some six miles Northwest ; and St. Paul's, some twenty miles farther Northwest, in what is now King and Queen Parish. It is not improbable that there was one also on the Patuxent, where Mr. Wilkinson located his land, some twelve or fifteen miles North of St. Mary's ; while there is not known to have been in the Colony but one place for Romish worship. This, among other facts, shows how great a proportion of the emigrants were Protes- tants, at the end of the first sixteen years of the Colony. Lord Baltimore, as is so well known, was himself a Romanist ; and he took care, or some one did for him, to have two Jesuit priests come over with his first colonists, and a number of others came afterwards. But he was not so careful that his settlers should be Romanists. His great object was not, as has been claimed for him, Religion, or the founding of an asy- lum for Roman Catholics — it was simply revenue, and he cared little who settled on his lands, whether Romanists, Church of England men, Puri- tans, or others, so that he might obtain his annual two shillings for every hundred acres of his grant settled, and his large per cent, on the profits of the very lucrative Indian trade of his Province. This existing docu- ments abundantly show. Besides the Romish priests mentioned, there were, no doubt, very early, some visiting preachers from New England, of the Puritans, who spent some time here ; but none appear to have made any permanent settlement. But, with so large a portion of Protestants, it is rather surprising that the colonists should not, from some quarter, have been supplied with the services of a Protestant ministry. They did not indeed live entirely with- out public worship ; for they built, as already stated, places of worship for themselves — rude though in truth they were, being built simply of logs from the forest, still they answered the purpose for which they were inten- ded. They were located near by some landing place, not far from the water side ; for the settlers all chose their residences on the banks of some or other of the many beautiful creeks and rivers, and these were their highways to all public places, to which the oar and the sail monthly carried them ; and they had a fine spring near at hand, while they were shaded and sheltered by the trees of the wild wood. The places of worship, though without any regularly appointed minister, had nevertheless their lay readers, • As early ag 1629, while the territory of what is now Maryland constituted a part of Vir- ginia, Kent Island, on the Chesapeake Bay, opposite the city of Annapolis,— an island which now contains some forty thousand inhabitants, had been settled by Virginia colonists. This was five years earlier than the settlement at St. Mary's. These settlerB,l)eing more than one hundred, were of the Chnrch of England, and had among them a Church of England clergy- man, — the Eev. Richard James. This was the nucleus of the subsequent settlements over on the main land adjoining, constituting the greater part of Queen Anne and Talbot counties ; and so true have those counties been to their early Church, that, to this day, only three llomanist chapels are found there, and but one resident priest. This Mr. James, it appears, had some years previous, been librarian to Sir Robert Cotton, the famous antiquarian ; and when Sir George Calvert, the first Lord Baltimore, obtained, while yet a Protestant, his Charter for Avalon, in Newfoundland, _ Mr. James accompanied him and was minister there ; and thence, it would seem, came with him to Virginia, and settled at Kent Island. In 1638, Lord Baltimore having, by force of arms, obtained possession of this island, Mr. James returned to England, and died at Sir Robert Cotton's that year. Lord Baltimore's Government seized on his estate in the island, confiscated it, and left his widow in poverty. 6 EPISCOPALIAN. by whom the Service of the Church of England was performed, and a sermon read. Thus, though they were without the administration of the sacraments, they were not without public worship. I have nothing to relate of Mr. Wilkinson, save what has been gathered from the public civil documents. But these will give us at least some idea of the minister and the man. We find that he very early created an interest for himself and his ministry, which was shown in the legacies that wore left to him and the church; that he acquired a character which caused his appointment as the guardian of the orphan ; and that his house became the home of the sick and dying. In his humble sphere he went about doing good. A circumstance also early occurred, which showed beautifully, may I not say, his sterling honesty and uprightness. At that time, cattle were allowed to run wild in the forests. And it often happened that the owner knew which were his, only by the mark which the law of the county required he should put upon them, and cause to be identified in the County Records. One evening, towards dark, as Mr. Wilkinson was standing out before his door, at the time when the cattle came in for the night, he perceived one among them which, as he thought, had no mark, and yet was his own. Calling his servants, the animal was caught, and marked with his own cattle mark. But, upon his making examination, he found it had a previous mark which had not before been noticed. The next morning, he mounted his horse ; rode to St. Mary's, which was some miles distant ; went into the Court, which was then sitting, and as soon as he could obtain a hearing, made known what he had done, and brought his servants, and had them sworn to prove the truth of his statements. He was of course acquitted by the Court of all blame, and he then made public advertisement for the right owner to come and claim his property, which was at his disposal. Subsequently to this, we find him taking up eleven hundred acres of land more, showing that, at that time, he had acquired eleven more indented servants, than those before mentioned, the names of whom are on record This does not indeed show that he had fourteen of these servants ; for at the end of five years each one was entitled to his liberty, and went out a freeman. To keep up a supply, therefore, spring and fall, ships came into the Colony from England, laden with this class of men and women, who were sold for their stipulated term of years, to pay the expenses of bringing them over. In this way a supply was kept up, with material advantage to the purchaser and the purchased. One of the greatest trials he ever experienced was his being indicted as an accessory in a case of bigamy. This, if established, was a high offence against English law ; and all the colonists, by Lord Baltimore's charter, were subjects of the King of England, and not only entitled to all the rights and privileges of such, but also amenable for the violation of its laws. There being no power in the Colony, by which a divorce could be granted, a husband and wife, by mutual agreement, divorced themselves. Soon after this, Mr. Wilkinson, knowing the man had no legal divorce, married him to another woman. He consequently was indicted for it, as just stated. This was but a just tribute to the supremacy of the law. The case was called in Court, but whether it came to trial or not, it was laid over, and Gover- WILLIAM ■WILKINSON. f nor Calvert, himself the Presiding Judge, became surety for his appearance, and nothing further is heard of the matter. The issue sho-jfs that his character did not suffer in the estimation of the authorities and inhabitants of the Colony, and that whether he was, under all the circumstances, right or wrong, he did not lose their confidence. His daughter, Rebecca, was married to Thomas Dent, and Elizabeth to William Hutton, brother to the then Secretary of State. Their descend- ants still remain in considerable numbers, and occupy a very desirable position in society. It is of course to be regretted that we know so little of his ministry. Men can readily enter into the labours of those who have gone before them ; but to honour and preserve their memory was not a prevalent virtue in the early periods of our country. We know, indeed, the general esti- mation in which he was held, but we know little or nothing of the measure of his success. It is pleasant to reflect that the foundations which he laid, yet remain — the God he worshipped is worshipped still in the temples which have succeeded those in which he preached, and which stand on the ground where he stood, as Christ's Ambassador, two hundred years ago. Mr. Wilkinson continued his ministry here till his death, which took place in August, 1663. In his will, still on record, he says : " Imprimis, I give my soul to God, and my body to the earth, from whence it came, with humble confidence that both body and soul shall, at the Resurrection, receive a happy union, and be made partakers of that happiness which is purchased by my blessed Redeemer, Jesus Christ, the Righteous." Such were the hopes, and such the faith, of this veteran pioneer in the Church, among the few scattered poor in this then savage and benighted land. Most respectfully and truly yours, ETHAN ALLEN. JAMES BLAIR, D. D * 1685—1743. James Blair was born in Scotland, in the year 1656. He was educated at one of the Scottish Universities, and obtained a benefice in the Established Church of England, as set up in Scotland by the Stuarts. But as neither the Episcopal form of government, nor the Episcopal mode of worship, found much favour in Scotland, Mr. Blair quitted his preferments there, and went to England, in the latter part of the reign of Charles the Second, hoping to be able to exercise his ministry with more comfort and advantage. Dr. Compton, the Bishop of London, being very favourably impressed by both his talents and piety, proposed to him to go as a Missionary to Vir- ginia ; and, having received the appointment, he came to Virginia in the • Preface to his Discourses, 3(3 edit.— Miller's Retrospect, II.— Barnefs History of his own Times, II.— Hawks' Ecclesiastical Contributions, I.— MS. from Rev. Dr. Totten. 8 EPISCOPALIAN. year 1685. He rendered liimself highly acceptable to both the planters and officers of Government, labouring diligently to improve the minds, the manners, and the hearts of the people. In 1689, when Sir Francis Nichol- son was made Lieutenant Governor of Virginia, Mr. Blair was appointed Commissary, the highest ecclesiastical office in the Province. In virtue of this office, he had a seat in the Council of the Colonial Government, presided at the trials of clergymen, and pronounced sentence when they were convicted of crimes and misdemeanors, and indeed exercised all the functions of a Bishop except ordination. The office was more burdensome than profitable ; but it subsequently gave Mr. Blair an important advantage in his great effort to promote the cause of education. He was deeply affected with the low state of both learning and religion in Virginia, and, as the most effective means of elevating both, resolved, if possible, to secure the establishment of a College. With a view to this, he set on foot a subscription, which, being headed by the Governor and his Council, soon amounted to twenty-five hundred pounds sterling. In the first Assembly held by Nicholson, in 1691, the project of the College was warmly seconded and recommended to the patronage of their Majesties ; and Mr. Blair was appointed to present the Address. He, accordingly, crossed the ocean to execute this trust ; and both William and Mary received the plan with marked favour. On the 14th of February, 1692, a Charter for the College was granted ; the Bishop of London being appointed Chancel- lor, and Mr. Blair President, and the College named " William and Mary." Mr. Blair was principally concerned in laying the foundation of this insti- tution, and in watching over and directing its interests ; though it does not appear that he entered formally on the duties of his office as President until the year 1729. Among the most liberal contributors to the object in Great Britain was the celebrated Robert Boyle. The College went tardily into operation, and, but for Mr. Blair's great perseverance, it would probably have been abandoned. In the year 1705, it was overtaken by a sore calamity in the burning of the college building. Still, Mr. Blair was not discouraged. Under the administration of Governor Spotswood, who was decidedly favourable to the enterprise, a new edifice was erected, and the college exercises resumed. Mr. Blair was, for some time. President of the Council of the Colony, and Rector of Williamsburg. He died on the 1st of August,* 1743, in the eighty-eighth year of his age. H as others of the Clergy were then compelled to do, to teach school to supply his family with bread; for being a non-juror, he was prohibited from preaching the (Jospel. He was a roan greatly respected even by those who opposed his political views. He died in 1778, of consumption, aged about forty, and was buried, at his late parish church, in the same grave with Mr. Jones. He left a widow, who survived him many years, and died in Chestcitown; and also three sons and two daughters. They are all now dead, but have left many descendants. Two of his grandsons are highly respectable members of the Baltimore Bar. Mrs. Tayne, the lamented wife of the Rt. Kev. Dr. Payne, now Missionary Bishop of tho Protestant Episcopal Church in Africa, at Liberia, who recently died there, was his grand- daughter. 14 EPISCOPALIAN. in the counties of New York, Queens, Richmond, and 'Westohester, by per- sons annually elected, styled Vestrymen and Wardens, the choice of the minister being left to the Magistrates, and said Vestrymen and Wardens, in those counties. In 1695, Mr. Vesey, previous to his taking Orders, was officiating at Hempstead, Queens County, under the tax just referred to. Visiting occasionally the city of New York, he gave satisfactory evidence of piety and talent in his public performances, which ultimately paved the way for the offer of the contemplated congregation in that city. Governor Fletcher and Colonel Caleb Heatheote took the lead, with the Magistrates, the Vestrymen and Wardens, in making the call, and advanced the neces- sary amount, from the collected taxes, to pay Mr. Vesey's expenses to England for Holy Orders. Grovernor Fletcher now granted a Charter to the inhabitants of the city, belonging to the congregation, who were authorized to elect Church-war- dens and Vestrymen — the Church to be known as Trinity Church. The parties, elected under the Act of 1693, were designated as the Civil Vestry ; those under the Charter of Fletcher, as the Church Vestry. The following is a copy of the proceedings of the Civil Vestry in refer- ence to Mr. Vesey's call : — This Board " having read a certificate under the hands of the Eev. Mr. Samuel Myles, Minister of the Church of England in Boston, in New Eng- land, and Mr. Gyles Dyer, and Mr. Benjamin Mountfort, Church-wardens of the said church, of the learning and education, and of the pious, sober and religious behaviour and conversation of Mr. William Vesey, and of his often being a communicant — the receiving of the most holy sacrament, in said church, have called the said Mr. William Vesey to officiate, and have the care of souls in this city of New York. And the said Mr. William Vesey, being sent for, and acquainted with the proceedings of this Board, did return them his hearty thanks for their good favour and affection showed unto him, and did assure them that he readily accepted of their call, and would, with all convenient expedition, repair to England, and apply him- self to the Bishop of London, in order to be ordained according to the Liturgy of the Church of England, and would return to his church here by the first convenient opportunity." Agreeably to this arrangement, Mr. Vesey embarked for England in the spring of 1697. On the 16th of August following, he was ordained by Dr. Henry Compton, Bishop of London, who, on Mr. Vesey's return imme- diately after, addressed a letter to the Vestry, of which the following is an extract ; — " Gentlemen — I do most heartily thank you for your choice you have made of Mr. Vesey to be your minister ; for I take him to be a man every way capacitated to do you service by his ministry : therefore I have most gladly conferred Holy Orders upon him, and recommend him back to your favourable reception, &c." A few years after this, — about 1712, — the Bishop of London appointed him his Commissary, owing, no doubt, in a degree at least, to the favourable impression which he received in respect to Mr. v., at this time. It would seem that the Governor considered the induction of Mr. Vesey a religious act, from the circumstance of his putting in requisition the Rev. Henricus Selyns of New York, Rev. Johannes Petrus Nucella, of King- WILLIAM VESET. I5 ston, Ulster County, Thomas Wenham and Eobert Lurting, Church-war- dens, to perform that service ; and it accordingly was performed, on Christ- mas day, in the Dutch Church. As the appointments of the Governor and the return made to him by the inductors are in Latin ; asi the Dutch Domi- nies probably possessed but a very limited knowledge of the English lan- guage ; and as the Classis of Amsterdam sent out to this country none but first rate scholars, it has been conjectured, and not without some reason, that the service on that occasion was performed in Latin. Mr. Selyns and Mr. Vesey now preached alternately in this church, one in Dutch, the other in English, for about three months. Meanwhile Trinity Church was so nearly finished that it could be used for Divine ser- vice. Mr. Vesey was about this time married to a Mrs. Reade. The mar- riage license from the Grovernor, as appears from the Records, was dated March 1, 1698. This lady, with her connections, had taken a deep interest in the concerns of Trinity Church ; and on the day that it was first opened for public worship, (Sunday, March 13, 1698,) she appeared in it as a bride. Governor Fletcher, in addition to his other numerous benefactions to the Church, made a grant of a tract of land known as " The King's Farm," for a term of years, subject to a rent. As the rent was his perquisite, he relinquished it to the Church during his administration, which terminated on the arrival of the Earl of Bellamont. The Earl considered the lease, in connection with other grants to indi- viduals, as extravagant and unwarranted, and induced the Legislature to declare them null and void ; which proceeding was approved by the King and Council. The rent he exacted, and handed it over to the minister of the French Church. This gave rise to a violent controversy between the Earl and Mr. Vesey, which was terminated by the sudden death of the Governor, in March, 1701. The next Governor, Lord Cornbury, restored the farm to the Church. Mr. Vesey, in his capacity as Commissary, had a protracted controversy with Governor Hunter, in relation to the induction of a minister to the Church at Jamaica, Queens county : it was ultimately decided by the Courts of Law that the Presbyterian minister at that place was entitled to the church edifice, and there the matter ended. The vacant church on Staten Island had chosen a minister in which the Civil and Church Vestries united. Governor Burnet withheld his Letter of Induction to that living, until he should be satisfied as to the fitness of the minister to fill the place ; and, as a test, proposed to give him a text from which he should write a sermon in the Governor's library. But the proposal was declined. Com- missary Vesey endeavoured to persuade the Governor that the Bishop of London had the exclusive jurisdiction in the case ; but without eflfect. Another minister was afterwards chosen, who presented himself to the Governor, and received the Letter of Induction, in consequence of comply- ing with the Governor's terms. When this afiair was represented by the Commissary to his Supervisor in London, the Governor was censured for the course he had taken. When Colonel Caleb Heathcote was in England, he became a member of the Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts ; and in a letter to the Society, dated NewYork, June 13, 1709, he says of Mr. Vesey, — " His IQ EPISCOPALIAN. life and convei-sation has been very regular, and without the least stain or blemish as to his morals. He is not only a very excellent preacher, but always very careful never to mix in his sermons any thing improper to be delivered out of the pulpit : and the good providence of God has continued him long among us, for a thorough settlement of the Church in this place, where, although the Presbyterians have made several attempts, they have not been able to break in upon us, — a happiness no city in North America can boast of besides ourselves." Mr. Vesey seems, during a part of his ministry at least, to have found both his salary and his perquisites an insufficient support. In 1713, there seems to have existed some difficulty in respect to the payment of his salary, the causes of which, however, are not fully explained by any existing documents relating to the subject. Mr. Vesey's life, combining, as he did, the two offices 'of Eector and Commissary, must have been a most active and laborious one. He was engaged too in some earnest and protracted controversies, which must have put in requisition all his mental force, and disturbed not a little some of his social relations. But he seems to have been a man of an enterprising and resolute spirit, who never shriink from any responsibility which he thought was legitimately devolved upon him. He was aided not a little in his labours by Schoolmasters and Cateehists, which were provided by the Ven- erable Society; and had also as Assistants, at different periods, the Rev. Robert Jenny,* Eev. James Wetmore,t Eev. Thomas Colgan,1: and Rev Robert Charlton.^ * EoBERT Jbnny, the son of Archdeacon Jenny, of Waneytown, in the North of Ireland, came to this country as a Missionary from the Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts, in 1715, being appointed an Assistant to the Her. Mr. Vesey, Rector of Trinity Church, New Yorlc. In 1722, he was transferred to Rye, County of Westchester, N. Y., where he remained till 1728, when he toolc charge of the church at Hempstead, L. I. In 1742, ho accepted an invitation to Christ Church, I'hilndelphia; and in NoTember of that year entered upon his duties as Eector of that church, by a license from the Bishop of London. He died at tile age of seventy-five, in January, 1762, having been fifty-two years in the ministry, and more than nineteen, Rector of Christ Church, ilis remains lie beneath one of the aisles of this church. He was honoured with the degree of LL. D. The Eev. Dr. William Smith, Provost of the College of Philadelphia, preached a sermon on the occasion of his death, in which he malses the following statement concerning him : — " He waa a man venerable in years, and a strilting pattern of Cliristian resignation, under a long and severe illness. Those who knew him best in that situation, know that his chief concern was not for himself but for the distressed and perplexed state of his congregation. He was a man of strict honesty, one that hated dissimulation and a lie, exemplary in his life and morals, and a most zealous member of our Episcopal Church." t James Wetmoke was graduated at Tale College in 1714; was ordained the first Congrega- tional minister in North Haven, Conn., in November, 1718; but in September, 1722, declared in favour of the Church of England. He went to England immediately after, and obtained Orders, and returned in 1723, as Catechist, and Assistant to the Rev. Mr. Vesey. In 1726 he became Eector of the Church at Eye, N. Y., vfhere he continued till the close of his life, 'lie died of the small po3^. May 16, 1760. He left two sons, one of whom, Timothy afterwards beeamo Attorney General of the Province of New Brunswick. He is said to have been a man of highly respeetable talents, and to have devoted himself with great zeal to the interests of the Church with which he was finally connected. He published Quakerism a Judicial Infatuation, repre- sented in three Dialogues ; a Letter against President Dickinson in defence of Waterland s Disooflise on Regeneration, about 1744; a Vindication of the Professors of the Church of England in Connecticut against the Invectives contained in a Sermon by Noah Hobart at Stam- ford, December 31, 1746. In a Letter to a Friend, 1747; a Rejoinder to Hobart s Serious Address; an Appendix to Beach's Vindication. i Thomas Colgan came to this country under the direction of the Venerable Society in 1726, having been appointed to the church in Eye; but, by a subsequent ai-rangemenl' he became Assistant to Mr. Vesey, and continued in that relation till 1732, when he- became Rector of the Church in Jamaica, L. I., where he remained till his death, in 1765. § RoBEBT CiiAULTON oflioiated as Catechist, first at New Windsor, and afterwards at New York, where, in 1732, he became successor to Mr. Colgan, as Assistant to Mr. '^csey. He'was in the habit of publicly, every Sundny, explaining the Church Catechism, and was reported by WILLIAM VESEY. 1 the widow and third wife of Mr. Mareen Duval, who died in 1694, of whose descendantSi by a former wife, was the late Hon. Gabriel Duval, one of the former Judges of the Supreme Court of the United States. I should not wonder if Mr. Henderson had met with Mrs. Duval at that then centre of attraction, Annapolis, — not far distant from his Dover Mission, and less distant East from her residence, and that her fascinations had induced him to go to England, as he did, and get his Mission changed : certain it is that his Mission included her estate. Her late husband had left her a life estate in a large, rich and beautiful tract of land on which his residence was ; and here she lived. The neighbourhood on the North was settled by the Ridgelys, Snowdens, and others, — all rich planters, who had emigrated from Wales, and were no doubt desirous to have Mr. Henderson's ministe- rial services. ■ Early in 1713, as I find it stated in the Records of the parish, Mr. and Mrs. Henderson built a chapel, not far from their residence, on their own land Ion" known by the name of Henderson's Chapel. It was Of wood, and 'occupied the spot where Holy Trinity Church- now stands. Their estate was and still is known as Belair. It subsequently passed into the hands of Governor Ogle, by whose descendants it is still occupied, as the rest of Mr. Duval's lands in that neighborhood are by his descendants. • Mr Adams had a son, Alexandeb Adams, Jr., who was licensed for the Province of Mary- land, by the Bishop of London, December, 21, 1748, and was, for some years, the incumbent of St James' Parish, Ann Arundel County, where he died October 20, 1767i leaving a widow and "^f Jo'nathan White was in the Province of Maryland in the year 1700. He is mentioned in connection with Dr. Brays Visitation, in that year, as having occasioned much scandal on his tiajjaase from Bneland, for which he made a penitential acknowledgment. In the same year C became the incumbent of William and Mary Parish, Charles County, where he continued Ull 1708 when he took charge of Queen Anne Parish in Prince George, and remained there till 1717 and whether at that time he died or removed is not ascertained. 36 EPISCOPALIAN. In the latter part of the same year, as shown in the Eecords of St. Anne's, Annapolis, that parish having become vacant, the Vestry applied to Mr. Henderson for his services. To this he consented, — the distance from his residence being not more than eighteen or twenty miles, — and con- tinued to officiate as Kector there for a year. During his connection with Annapolis, the Parish Eecords show that he took a pew for his family in the parish church, — doubtless for their accom- modation when he was not officiating in his own chapel ; and this he continued to do year after year. In 1716, Dr. Kobinson, then Bishop of London, having jurisdiction over the Church of England in the Colonies, appointed Mr. Henderson to be his Commissary on the Western Shore of Maryland, and the Eev. Christo- pher Wilkinson his Commissary on the Eastern Shore. Mr. Wilkinson had become the incumbent of St. Paul's Parish, Queen Anne County, in 1713. So that, on his appointment as Commissary, he had been Rector of that parish only .about three years. His character is well and faithfully drawn by Dr. Hawks. He continued in his parish in Talbot sixteen years, and died April 15j 1729. He left behind him a wife, Sybella ; two sons, — Christopher and Thomas, and a daughter, Ann. I find no further mention of his family. Mr. Commissary Henderson's first visitation, as is shown by Dr. Hawks, was held at Annapolis, at which there were present twelve clergymen, besides himself, from thirteen parishes. As Mr. H. was not the incumbent of a, parish, one of the twelve must have been Eector of two parishes. There were then, as I may state here, eighteen parishes on the Western Shore, and at least that number of clergymen. I have the names of thir- teen of th^m. Dr. Hawks states (p. 157) that the Clergy present were severally called upoH for their Letters of Orders and Licenses from the Bishop of London. This was asserting an official consequence, which pro- duced a very serious difficulty, and led to an appeal to the Bishop, who found it necessary to interfere in the matter. It was, however, finally settled, and in such a manner as to produce entire satisfaction on the part of the Clergy towards the Commissary. Dr. Hawks, however, surmises that the dispute produced an alienation between Governor Hart and Mr. Henderson, which was not so soon or so easily, healed. But I think it could not have been very serious ; for in December, 1717, the parish in which Mr. Henderson resided, — Queen Anne's, becoming vacant by the death or resignation of the incumbent, the Rev. Mr. White, — on the 10th of March following, the Governor gave it to Mr. Henderson. The income of the parish at that time was about a thousand dollars per annum. Up to this date, he had been living on his own plantation, sustaining himself, and, with the exception of the year he spent in Annapolis, had officiated in the chapel which he had himself built. This may show us something of the condition in which he had placed him- self by his marriage. His chapel, henceforward, became in fact the chapel of the parish J and his services were divided between it and the parish church. Governor Hart died in 1719. In the regular performance of his parochial labours, the Parish Records furnish us with nothing calling for special notice. JACOB HENDERSON. gir His Commissariate was not of very long duration ; for, in 1723, the Bishop of London, Dr. Eoljinson, died ; and with his death the commis- sions of both the Commissaries ceased ; and his successor. Dr. Gribson, did not see fit to renew them. Mr. Henderson's public services thus were no longer called for, and he devoted himself exclusively to his parish. In 1729, however, the existing difficulties in the Colony, which had grown up in relation to the parochial incomes, made it necessary, in order to vindicate the rights of the Clergy, for Mr. Henderson to visit England. In accomplishing the object of his mission, as Dr. Hawks shows he did effec- tually, though not without great difficulty, he was absent eighteen months. During his absence, as the Records show, the duties of the parish were performed by the neighbouring clergy. And this indeed they might well do ; as it was their own cause, in common with the rest of their order, which he had undertaken. When he returned, Mr. Henderson had received from Bishop Gribson the appointment of Commissary for the entire Colony. He was most cordially welcomed back by the Clergy, but not by the Laity, who were bitterly opposed to him. One of the fraternity had the imprudence to attack him rather roughly, but the sequel showed that he gained no laurelsby it. (See Dr. Hawks, pp. 204,05). His first official act, after his return, was to hold Conventions of the Clergy, on both the Eastern and Western Shores. At these meetings, the Clergy generally were in attendance. He charged them, with many earnest exhor- tations, to holiness of life, and gave them much excellent advice. (Dr. H., p. 207.) One subject engaged his special attention, and caused him no little trouble, namely, — clerical discipline. There were a few cases of profligacy among the Clergy, which called for his interference, and in these he was not entirely unsuccessful. The Parish Records, which I have examined, show one ease in which the incumbent of the parish was expelled from it ; and another in which the incumbent was made to employ the neighbouring clergy to officiate in his place, he paying them therefor out of his own parish income. But, in other eases, he met with so much difficulty (Dr. H., p. 222) in effectively exercising his authority, that, at length, in 1734, being quite worn out, he relinquished his office, and the Bishop of London ceased to have a representative in the Colony. On the 19th of January, 1735, Mrs. Henderson died, leaving no child. She was buried under the chancel, in the chapel which shie had no donbt mainly contributed to build, and a marble slab was placed over her grave, with this inscription — " Sacred to the memory of Mary, wife of the Rev. Jacob Henderson, who died in 1735." In the rebuilding of the chapel in 1827, the slab was removed from its former position, and placed conspicu- ously in the wall on the East side of the building, which is of brick. The next year after Mrs. Henderson's death, Mr. Henderson proposed to give them the chapel, — having shingled it anew, and also two hundred acres of land for a glebe. But, on applying to the Greneral Assembly to confirm the gift, a difficulty presented itself, which prevented the passing of such a law. What the difficulty was is not stated ; but it is presumed that, as Mrs. Henderson had only a life estate in the land, it could not be 38 EPISCOPALIAN. taken away from the legal heirs. The matter, however, was finally so arranged that he gave the chapel to the Vestry, and along with it five acres of land. Up to this time the chapel had been his own private property. That chapel, or rather the one that succeeded, is the parish church of a new parish, called Holy Trinity ; and an excellent brick parsonage stands on the land thus given. On the 6th of July, 1737, Governor Ogle, between whom and Mr. Hen- derson there was the utmost harmony, granted him leave of absence from the Province for eighteen months, with a view to his visiting England again ; his place in the parish being meanwhile supplied by his neighbour, the.Kev. William Brogden. During this visit, he was elected a piember of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, and he was the first per- son ever elected from the Colonies. He took a warm interest in the affairs of this Society. He obtained donations for it in his own parish, as well as in other parishes, after his return, besides making liberal contributions to it himself. In May, 1739, he was again at home. In the following years, I find nothing on the Records worthy of notice. He was engaged quietly in the duties of his parish, and seems to have attracted very little public observation. But in August, 1748, he again obtained a license from Governor Ogle for another absence from his parish for eighteen months ; and this, it is stated, was that he might go to Europe to settle his affairs there. He accordingly went, and in April, 1750, had returned to his parish. But it was not long after this that he was called to take his final depar- ture. He died August 27, 1751, in the thirty-fourth year of his ministry in this parish, and in the forty-fifth year after his ordination, having survived his wife sixteen years. He was at least sixty-five years old at his death, — probably much more, — for the Maryland Gazette, of that date, in noticing his death, calls him" the venerable and aged Jacob Henderson." He is. said to have bequeathed all his property to the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. Though I have not seen his will, I find in the Society's papers, upwards of five thousand dollars acknowledged, as having been recovered from his estate. I have thus given you a pretty full outline of Mr. Henderson's life, refer- ring also to the authorities whence the material has been obtained. I will only add that, from Parish Eecords which I have consulted, I find evidence of his having been prompt and energetic in his movements, highly esteemed by the Clergy, and often appealed to by Vestries, whq must have placed great confidence in both his integrity and judgment. Most truly and faithfully your friend, ETHAN ALLEN. ALEXANDER GARDEN. 39 ALEXANDER GARDEN.* 1719—1756. Alexander Garden was born in Scotland, about the year 1685. He was educated in his native country, and became a clergyman of the Estab- lished Church of England. He came to America in 1719, and, shortly after his arrival, was elected Rector of St. Paul's Parish, Charlestown, S. C. He also held the office of Commissary, under the Bishop of London ; — an office which had been vacated, some time before, by the death of the Rev. Gideon Johnstone, t Mr. Commissary Garden, in consequence of the increase of the Episco- pal Church in the Province, deemed it necessary, after some years, to hold Annual Visitations of the Clergy. They were convened, for the first time, on the 20th of October, 1731, when they exhibited to the Commis- sary their Letters of Orders and License to perform the ministerial office in the Province. These Visitations were continued till 1748, when the Commissary resigned his office. The clerical convocations were still con- tinued ; but they were henceforth called " Annual Meetings of the Clergy." In 1735, Mr. Garden's health, owing to his various and arduous labours, had become so much impaired that he found it necessary to devote some time to relaxation ; and he availed himself of the opportunity to make a visit to the Northern Provinces. During his absence, the church was sup- plied by the clergy of the neighbouring parishes. As the parochial duties of St. Philip's had now become too much for one man to perform, the Assembly, on the 29th of May, 1736, made an appropriation for the sup- port of an Assistant to Mr. Garden, requiring that he should be in Priest's Orders, and produce satisfactory testimonials of his ordination by a Bishop of the Church of England. The Rev. William Orr t was, accordingly, sent * Ramsay's History of South Carolina, II. — Dalcho"s Church of South Carolina. — Hawkins' Miss. Ch. Eng. t GiDEOS Johnstone, the son of a worthy clergyman in Ireland, was recommended by the Archbishop of Dublin, the Bishop of Killaloe, and the Bishop of Elphin, his Diocesan, to the Bishop of London, in 1707, as a suitable person to succeed to the office of Commissary in South Carolina. The Bishop, being satisfied with his character and attainments, appointed him, and he immediately crossed the ocean to enter upon the duties of his ofSce. After a tedious pas- sai'e, he arrived off the coa^t, and was stranded on a sand bank, where, for several days, he wiTs in imnjinent peril, and near starvation ; but was at length taken oif by a canoo. He seems to have found a different state of things from what he had anticipated ; for he says in a letter to the Bishop of Salisbury, (Burnet,) " I never repented so much of anything, my sins only excepted, as my coming to this place." But he was received by the inhabitants with great kindness, and was immediately elected Rector of St. Philip's Parish. He seems to have been an invalid during the greater part of his residence in Carolina, and to have suffered especially from severe fits of the gout ; but he was very faithful in the discharge of his duties, and exerted an important influence in healing divisions in both Church and State. In 1712, his health was so much impaired that he found it necessary to make a voyage to England, and he was absent about eighteen months. He returned with an addition of fifty pounds sterling to his salary; bat he did not live long to enjoy it. On the occasion of the Hon. Charles Craven, Governor of the Province, embarking for England, in April, 1716, Commissary Johnstone, with thirty others, went on board the ship to take leave of him; and, as they were returning, sudden squall upset their vessel, and the Commissary, being infirm and unable to exert himself, was drowned in the hold of the vessol. His body was carried to Charlestown, and buried with every expres- sion of respect and sorrow. . „ , , „ j . j i. t. /^-u u- i, r t t William Orr was a native of England. He was ordained by Dr. Gibson, Bishop ot iion- don Deacon, September 19, and Priest, September 29, 1736. In consequenoe of an application from the Vestry of St. Philip s Church, Charlestown, S. C, he was licensed to perform Divine service in the Province of South Carolina. On his arrival, he officiated in St. Philip s from January 20, 1737, until the 15th of March following; when he was elected Assistant to the 4.0 EPISCOPALIAN. out from London, and was unanimously elected Assistant Eeetor of the ParisL During Whitefleld's visit to Charlestown, in 1740, Mr. Garden felt him- self called upon to notice what he deemed the great irregularities of that splendid itinerant, as an accredited minister of the Church of England. He cited him before the Ecclesiastical Court " to answer to certain articles or interrogatories, whivill of Heaven, under the heavy afflictions he met with, in the aecline ot his liie. (and till then he had hardly any experimental knowledge what affliction was.) were as conspicuous and exemplary as any other Christian graces that ilQ P0SSCSS6CIb HENRY CANER, D. D.* 1727—1783. Henry Canee, a son of Henry and Abigail Caner, was born in the year 1700. The presumption is that New Haven was his native. place, as his father was the architect of the first College edifice erected there, in 1717-18. He was graduated at Yale College in 1724. In the following year, he began to read prayers in an Episcopal Church, at Fairfield, Conn. In 1727, he went to England for ordination ; and the Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts appointed him their Missionary to Fairfield. His occasional services at Norwalk met with much acceptance ; and it was not long before he had a respectable congregation there, as well as at Fair- field. On the 27th of November, 1746, the Rev. Mr. Price of King's Chapel, Boston, signified to his congregation his intention of quitting the Eector- ship and Cure of the church and returning to England. The congregation then took the bold and unprecedented step of choosing a committee to recommend a suitable person in Holy Orders, not to the Bishop of London, but to the congregation, to be appointed Rector of King's Chapel, as suc- cessor to Mr. Price. The committee recommended Mr. Caner ; and he was chosen by a large majority. Mr. Caner signified his acceptance of the invitation, and removed from Faiffield to Boston. On quitting his Mission, he sent to the Society by which he was employed a summary of his services, showing that, whereas, on his arrival at Fairfield, there were but twelve communicants, he left sixty-eight ; and that at Norwalk, where there were none, he left an hundred and fifteen, besides twenty at Stamford. The subscriptions raised in the Mission he appropriated to the erection of churches. The next day after his arrival at Boston, (April 11, 1747,) he was con- ducted to the Chapel by Mr. Price, and there, in due form, put in possession of the church. The Churchwardens at the door delivered the key to Mr. Caner, who, looking himself in the church, tolled the bell, and then unlocked the door, and received the Wardens, Committee &c., who wished him joy on having possession of the church. Mr. Caner entered on his duties as Rector with the advantage of a high reputation. He was not only a very popular preacher, but had a remarka- ble talent for business ; and it seems to have been very much through his instrumentality that the design of rebuilding the Chapel, which had before •Hall's History of Nonvalk. — Greenwood's History of King's Chapel. — Columbian Centi- nel, 1793.— Hawkins' Miss. Ch. Eng.— Updike's Hist. Narrag. Ch.— MS. from E. C. Herriok, 62 EPISCOPALIAN. been projeotedj was now resumed and carried forward to its completion. The corner stone of the edifice was laid by Grovernor Shirley, on the 11th of August, 1749, and a Sermon was preached on the occasion by Mr. Caner, which was published. In August, 1760, Francis Bernard made his public entry into Boston, as Governor of the Province ; and Mr. Caner, having convened the Clergy and Wardens of the three Episcopal churches in the town, waited on him with a congratulatory address. When the intelligence of the death of Greorge II., and the accession of G-eorge III., reached this country, Mr. Caner was appointed by the Governor and Council, and House of Representatives, to preach a sermon on the occa- sion ; which he did, in his own church, on the 1st of January, 1761. Mr. Caner received the degree of Master of Arts from the University of Oxford in March, 1735, and the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the same University, in January, 1766. For a short time previous to the commencement of the War, there were a large number of officers of the British army and navy in and about Bos- ton, who were accustomed to worship at King's Chapel, which devolved upon Dr. Caner an increased amount of labour. The last burials which he recorded in the Church Register, were those of three soldiers of the sixty- fifth regiment. In March, 1776, the British troops evacuated Boston, and Dr. Caner went with them, taking with him the Church Registers and plate, and part of the Records of the Vestry. The Registers were obtained from his heirs, more than a quarter of a century afterwards. During the thirty years of his residence at Boston, though he received no part of his support from the. Venerable Society, he continued to act as its confidential friend and correspondent, especially in regard to the recommendation of candidates for Holy Orders. Dr. Caner's escape from Boston is thus described by himself, in a letter dated Halifax, May 10, 1776 :— "As to the Clergy of Boston, indeed, they have for elevenmonths past been exposed to difficulty and distress in every shape; and as to myself, having determined to main- tain my post as long as possible, I continued to officiate to the small remains of my parishioners, though without a support, till the 10th of March, when I suddenly and unexpectedly received notice that the King's troops would immediately evacuate the town. It is not easy to paint the distress and confusion of the inhabitants on this occasion. I had but six or seven hours allowed to prepare for this measure, being obliged to embark the same day for Halifax, where we arrived the first of April. This sudden movement prevented me from saving my books, furniture, or any part of my interest, except bedding, wearing apparel, and a little provision for my small family during the passage. " I am now at Halifax with my daughter and servant, but without any means of support, except what I receive from the benevolence of the worthy Dr. Breyntou."* Shortly after this. Dr. Caner sailed for London, where he was received with every mark of respect and kindness. The Society offered to him the choice of any of the Missions then vacant ; and he was appointed to Bris- tol, Rhode Island. He returned to this country at the close of 1776 or early in 1777, and laboured at Bristol as a Missionary until the termina- *Rev. John Bre ynton was sent as a Missionary, by the Venerable Society, to Halifax, in 1752. He soon established a school in which fifty orphans, beside other children, were very faithfully instructed by a religious soldier, named Ralph Sharrock. He was eminently devoted to his work, was an earnest and eloquent preacher, and was highly esteemed by Christians of every communion. He wa« a resident of the Province of Nova Scotia for more than twenty years. HENEY CA.NEB. (53 tion of tlie War. He spent his last years in England, and died in Long Ashton, at the close of the year 1792, aged ninety-two. One of his daughters was married to Mr. Gore of Boston. The following is a list of his publications : — Nature and Method of Christian Preaching examined and stated : A Sermon preached at Newport, 11. I., 1745. [This Sermon drew forth strictures from Jonathan Dickin- son in his " Vindication of God's Sovereign Free Grace."] The Piety of Founding Churches for the Worship of God : A Discourse at the Laying of the First Stone for Rebuilding King's Chapel in Boston, 1749. God the only Unfailing Object of Trust : A Discourse on the Death of the Prince of Wales, 1751. A Sermon on the Death of Charles Apthorp, 1758. A Sermon on the Death of George II., 1761. A Thanksgiving Sermon on the General Peace, 1763. A Sermon at the Funeral of the Rev. Timothy Cut- ler, D. D., 1765. Dr. Caner's published Discourses show that he was a man of fine intel- lectual endowments and acquirements. He had withal a very popular address, and exerted an important influence wherever he lived. He was undoubtedly one of the most eminent Episcopal clergymen of his day, in this country. GEORGE BERKELEY, D. D.* 1728—1731. George Berkeley was born at Kilcrim, near Thomastown, in the county of Kilkenny, Ireland, on the 12th of March, 1684. He was a son of William Berkeley, an English gentleman, who, having suffered for his loyalty to Charles the First, went over to Ireland after the Restoration, and there obtained the CoUectorship of Belfast. George had the rudiments of his education at Kilkenny school, under Dr. Hinton ; was admitted pen- sioner at Trinity College, Dublin, at the age of fifteen, under Dr. Hall ; and chosen Fellow of that College, June 9, 1707, after a very strict exami- nation, which he passed with great credit. After publishing a number of works which rendered him well known in the department of Letters and of Philosophy, among which were his " Principles of Human Knowledge," and his " Dialogues," designed to disprove the commonly received notion of the existence of matter, he was recommended by Swift to the Earl of Peterborough, who, being appointed Ambassador to the King of Sicily and the Italian States, in 1713, took Berkeley with him as his Chaplain and Secretary. He returned to Eng- land with this nobleman, in August, 1714, after an absence of eight or nine months ; and towards the close of the year had a fever which gave occasion to Dr. Arbuthnot to indulge a little pleasantry on Berkeley's system : — " Poor philosopher Berkeley," says he to his friend Swift, '< has now the • Chandler's Life of Johnson. — Miller's Retrospect, II. — Rees' Cyclopedia. — Holmes' Ameri- can Annals II. —Chalmers' Biographical Dictionary. — Updike's Hist. Narrag. Ch. 64 EPISCOPALIAN. idea of health, which was very hard to produce in him ; for he had an idea of a strange fever on him so strong, that it was very hard to destroy it by introducing a contrary one." His hopes of further preferment expiring with the Eeign of Queen Anne, he soon after embraced an offer from Dr. St. Greorge Ashe, Bishop of Clogher, to accompany his son on a tour through Europe. At Paris, on his way home, he paid his respects to his rival in metaphysical sagacity, the celebrated Pere Malebranche, and had an earnest discussion with him on the principles of his ideal theory. At Lyons, he drew up a curious tract, entitled " Be Motu," which was insert- ed in the Memoirs of the Royal Academy at Paris, and afterwards printed in London. On his return to England, he was introduced by Pope to Lord Burling- ton, and through him was recommended to the Duke of Grafton, who, becoming Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, took him over, as one of his Chap- lains, in 1721 ; and, about this time, the degrees of Bachelor and Doctor of Divinity were conferred upon him. On his first visit to London, Swift had introduced to him the celebrated and unfortunate Vanessa, Mrs Esther Vanhomrigh : this lady had intended Swift for her heir ; but, considering herself slighted by him, she left nearly eight thousand pounds between her two executors, of whom Berkeley was one. In the discharge of his duty as executor, Berkeley destroyed such part of the epistolary correspondence between the testator and Swift as fell into his hands, notwithstanding her expressed wish that it should be published ; the reason given for it being an excessive warmth of expression on the part of the lady. In 1724, Dr. Berkeley was made Dean of Derry, — an office worth eleven hundred pounds per annum, in consequence of which he resigned his Fel- lowship. Prom the time of his arrival in Ireland, he had been occupied with a project for the conversion of the North American Indians, by means of a Missionary College, to be established in Bermuda. He, accordingly, obtained coadjutors, and made a proposal to the Government, which result- ed in the granting of a Charter by George the First ; and the sum of twenty thousand pounds for carrying the scheme into effect was promised, in due time, by the Minister, Sir Eobert Walpole. Trusting to these promising appearances. Dr. Berkeley was married, in August, 1728, to Anne, the eldest daughter of John Forster, Esq., Speaker of the Irish House of Commons ; and actually set sail in September fol- lowing for Ehode Island, with a view of making an arrangement there for supplying his College with such provisions as might be wanted from the Northern Colony.* He took with him his wife, a Miss Hancock, Mr. Smibert, — the celebrted artist, and two gentlemen of wealth, of the names of James and Dalton, a valuable library, and a large amount of his own property. He purchased a country seat and farm in the neighbourhood of Newport, where he resided about two years and a half. His house, which he called Whitehall, was situated in what is now Middletown, about three miles North East from the State House in Newport, near a beautiful water- course, which runs Southward towards Sachuest Beach. He built his house * This is aooordin!; 'o 'he English authorities; but Updike in his "History of the Episcopal Church in Narragansett," states that his arrival on Ehode Island was entirely accidental, — the Captain of the ship in which he sailed not being able to find the Island of Bermuda. GEORGE BERKELEY. 65 in a valley, not far from a hill commanding a fine view of the surrounding country and the ocean ; and his reasons for preferring the valley to the hill were that, " to enjoy the prospect from the hill, he must visit it only occa- sionally ; — that if his constant residence should be on the hill, the view would be so common as to lose all its charms." About a mile and a half South from his house, he had his chair and writing apparatus placed in a natural alcove, which he found among the hanging rocks ; and there was written the greater part of his " Minute Philosopher." During his resi- dence on the Island, he officiated, the greater part of the time, at Trinity Church, Newport ; and, after his return to England, he sent, as a donation to the church, in 1733, a magnificent organ, which, a few years since, was in a state of good preservation. The influence of his sojourn in this country was most benign, not only in Rhode Island but elsewhere, as his talents and learning, as well as fine moral and social qualities, rendered him an object of great and general attraction. The enterprise which brought him hither, however, signally failed. Wal- pole's promise of twenty thousand pounds turned out to be worth nothing. Dr. Gibson, the Bishop of London, (in whose Diocese all the West Indies were included,) held a conference with the Minister, the result of which was that he told the Bishop plainly that, as Dr. Berkeley's friend, he would advise him to relinquish the idea of establishing a College, and return to England. When this information was communicated to the Dean, he had no alternative but to bear the disappointment, as best he could, and to abandon a scheme on which he had already expended much of his private fortune, and more than seven years of the most vigorous part of his life. He embarked for England, at Boston, in September, 1731. Before his- departure from the country, however, he distributed the books which he had brought with him among the Clergy of Rhode Island ; and immediately after his arrival in London, he returned all the private subscriptions that had been advanced in aid of his undertaking. It was not long before he made some very substantial demonstrations of his good-will towards this country. He sent, as a gift to Yale College, a deed of the farm which he. held in Rhode Island ; the rents of which he directed to be appropriated, to the maintenance of the three best classical scholars, who should reside- at College, at least nine months in the year, in each of the three years between receiving their first and second degrees. Whatever surplus of money might arise from accidental vacancies, was to be distributed in Greek and Latin books to such undergraduates as should produce the best Latin composition, on some moral theme that should be given them. He also^ presented to the Library of Yale College nearly one thousand volumes. In February, 1732, he preached, before the Society for Propagating- the Gospel in Foreign Parts, a Sermon, (afterwards published by their request,) containing much valuable information concerning the state of religion in America. The same year he brought out also- his " Minute Philosopher," which has always been considered a masterly performance, and among the most valuable of all his publications. Dr. Berkeley had had the honour of an introduction to Queen Caroline as early as 1712 ; and, after his return from Rhode Island, she often com- manded his attendance to hear from him the results of his- observation in Vol. V. 9 gg EPISCOPALIAN. America. She was so much interested and instructed by his conversation, that she became strongly impressed in his favour, and when the rich Deanery of Down, in Ireland, became vacant, he was, at her suggestion, proposed for it, and the King's Letter actually came over for his appointment. But his friend, 'Lord Burlington, having failed to give notice to the Duke of Dorset, then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, of the Royal intentions, His Excellency was so offended at the omission that it was thought best to press the matter no farther. Her Majesty, being little satisfied with this procedure, declared that, since they would not suffer Dr. Berkeley to be a Bean in Ireland, he should be a Bishop ; and, accordingly, in 1734, the Bishopric of Cloyne becoming vacant, he was, by Letters Patent, dated 17th of March, promoted to that see, and was consecrated at St. Paul's Church, Dublin, on the 19th of May following, by Theophilus, Archbishop of Cashel, assisted by the Bishops of Eaphoe and Killaloe. His Lordship repaired immediately to the Manse-House at Cloyne, where he constantly resided, (except one winter, when he was in attendance on the Parliament in Dublin,) and applied himself with great vigour and fidelity to the dis- charge of his Episcopal duties. He, however, continued his studies with unabated zeal, and in several following years produced a number of works on Science, Philosophy, and Religion, some of which added not a little to his high reputation. In the year 1745, Lord Chesterfield, being now advanced to the Govern- ment, wrote to Bishop Berkeley to inform him that the see of Clogher, then vacant, the value of which was double that of Cloyne, was at his service. But he respectfully, and with many thanks, declined the offer ; partly on the ground that he had already enough to satisfy his wishes, and partly because he had taken the resolution, from almost the time of his being advanced to the prelacy, that he would never change his see. In July, 1752, his health being now considerably reduced, he removed with his family to Oxford, in order to superintend the education of one of his sons, then recently admitted a student at Christ Church College. He had determined, with a view of indulging his passion for literary retire- ment, to spend the rest of his days in that city ; but, being fully sensible of the impropriety of a Bishop's non-residence, he previously endeavoured to exchange his high preferment for some Canonry or Headship at Oxford. Not succeeding in this, he actually applied to the Secretary of State for permission to resign his Bishopric, worth, at that time, at least fourteen hundred pounds per annum. His Majesty was led to inquire who the extraordinary man was who had made such a request ; and, on being told that it was his old acquaintance, Dr. Berkeley, he declared that he should be a Bishop in spite of himself, but gave him full liberty to reside where he pleased. The Bishop's last act, before leaving ClojTie, was to sign a lease of the demesne lands in that, neighbourhood, to be renewed yearly at the rent of two hundred pounds, which sum he directed to be distributed every year until his return, among poor house-keepers of Cloyne, Youghal, and Aghadda. At Oxford he lived highly respected and revered, and busied himself in collecting and republishing all his minor pieces. But he did not live long ; GEORGE BERKELET. Q>j for, on Sunday evening, the 14th of January, 1753, as he was sitting in the midst of his family, listening to a Sermon of Dr. Sherlock's, which his wife was reading to him, he was seized with what the physicians termed a palsy in the heart, and instantly expired. His death was so sudden that his family were not apprized of it till his daughter, on bringing him a cup of tea, perceived that the spirit had fled. His remains were interred at Christ Church, Oxford, where there is an elegant monument erected to his memory. The following is a list of Bishop Berkeley's publications : — Arithmetica absque Algebra aut Eucilide demonstrata, 1707. Theory of Vision, 1709. The Principles of Human Knowledge, 1710. The Substance of three Common-places on Passive Obedience, delivered in the College Chapel, 1712. Dialogues between Hylas and Philonous, 1713. De Motu, 1721. An Essay towards Preventing the Kuin of Great Britain, 1721. A Proposal for Converting the Savage Americans to Christianity, by a College to be erected in the Summer Islands, otherwise called the Isles of Bermuda, 1725. A Discourse preached before the Society for the Propagation of the Grospel in Foreign Parts, 1732. The Minute Philosopher, 1732. The Analyst, (designed to show that Mysteries in Faith are unjustly objected to by Mathematicians), 1734. A Defence of Free-thinking in Mathematics, 1735. Queries proposed for the Good of Ireland, 1735. A Discourse addressed to Magistrates, 1736. Siris : A Chain of Philosophical Reflec- tions and Inquiries concerning the Virtues of Tar-water, 1744. A Letter to the Roman Catholics of his Diocese, 1745. A Word to the Wise : A Letter to the Roman Catholic Clergy of Ireland, 1749. Maxims concerning Patriotism, 1750. Further Thoughts on Tar-water, 1752. The following noble testimony to the character of Bishop Berkeley is from the pen of Sir James Mackintosh : "Ancient learning, exact science, polished society, modern literature and the fine arts, contributed to adorn and enrich the mind of this accomplished man. All his contemporaries agree with the satyrist in ascribing 'To Berkeley every virtue under Heaven.' Adverse, factious and hostile wits concurred only in loving, admiring and contributing to advance him. The severe sense of Swift endured his visions; the modest Addison endeavoured to reconcile Clarke to his ambitious speculations. His character converted the satire of Pope into fervid praise. Even the discerning, fastidious and turbulent Atterbury said, after an interview with him, — ' So much understanding, so much knowledge, so much innocence, and such humility, I did not think had been the por- tion of any but angels until I saw this gentleman.' " Lord Bathurst told me that the members of the Scriblerus Club being met at his house at dinner, they agreed to rally Berkeley, who was also his guest, on his scheme at Bermudas. Berkeley, having listened to the many lively things they had to say, begged to be heard in his turn, and displayed his plan with such an astonishing and animating force of eloquence and enthusiasm that they were struck dumb; and, after some pause, rose all up together with earnestness, exclaiming — ' Let us set out with him immediately.' It was when thus beloved and celebrated that he conceived, at the age of forty -five, the design of devoting his life to reclaim and convert the natives of North America; and he employed as much influence and solicitation as men commonly do for their most prized objects, in obtaining leave to resign his dignities and revenues, to quit his accomplished and affectionate friends, and to bury himself in what must have seemed an intellectual desert. After four years residence at Newport, in Rhode Island, he was compelled, by the refusal of Goveriiment to furnish him with funds for his College, to forego this work of heroic, or rather godlike, benevolence; though not without some consoling forethought of the fortune of the country where he had sojourned." 68 EPISCOPALIASr. A letter written at Newport, and published in the New England Journal, Boston, September 3, 1729, says, — " Yesterday arrived here Dean Berkeley, of Londonderry, in a pretty large ship. He is a gentleman of middle stature; of an agreeable, pleasant and erect aspect. He was ushered into town with a great number of gentlemen, to whom he behaved him- self after a very complaisant manner."* Updike, in his Memoirs of the Rhode Island Bar, writes as follows : — " The late Lodowick Updike said that, when a boy, his father used to take him to hear Bishop Berkeley preach at Trinity Church, in Newport "_ Like all really leaisned men. the Dean was tolerant in religious opinion, which gave him a great and deserved popularity with all denominations. All sects rushed to hear him ; even the Quakers, with tlieir broad-brimmed hats, came and stood in the aisles. In one of his sermons he very emphatically said, ' Give the devil his due — John Calvin was a great man.'" His biographer, the Eev. Gr. N. "Wright, says, — "As to his person, he was a handsome man, with a countenance full of meaning and benignity, remarkable for great strength of limbs, and, till his sedentary life impaired it,' of a very robust constitution. He was, however, often troubled with the hypochondria, and latterly with the nervous colic. " At Cloyne he constantly rose between three and four o'clock, and summoned his family to a lesson on the bass-viol, from an Italian master he kept in the house for the instruction of his children ; though the Bishop himself had no ear for music. He spent the rest of the morning, and often a great part of the day , in study : his favourite author, from whom many of his favourite notions were borrowed, was Plato. He had a large and valuable collection of books and pictui-es, which became the property of his son, the Eev. George Berkeley, LL. D." Bishop Berkeley was the father of four children, one of whom lies buried in Newport. His son Geoege was a distinguished clergyman. He was born September 28, (0. S.) 1733, in London, but in his infancy was removed with the family to Ireland, where he was instructed in the classics by his father. At the age of nineteen, he was sent to Christ Church College, Oxford, where, in due time, he took the degree of Bachelor of Arts, and for a while held the office of Collector in the University. In 1758, he took a small living, the Vicarage of East Grarston, Berks, from which he was removed, in 1759, by Archbishop Seeker, to the Vicarage of Bray, Berks ; ,and subsequently the Archbishop gave him the Chancellorship of Breck- nock, the Rectory of Acton, Middlesex, and the sixth prebendal stall in the Church of Canterbury. He took the degree of Master of Arts in 1759, and that of Doctor of Laws in 1768. The Vicarage of Bray he exchanged for that of Cookham, near Maidenhead, and had, afterwards, from the Church of Canterbury, the Vicarage of East Peckham, Kent, which he relinquished on obtaining the Rectory of St. Clement's, Danes ; which, with the Vicarage of Tyshurst, Sussex, (to which he was presented by the Church of Canterbury in 1792, when he vacated Cookham,) and with the Chancellorship of Brecknock, he held till his death. After a lingering and painful illness, he died on the 6th of January, 1795, and was interred in his father's vault in Christ Church, Oxford. In 1761, he was married to Eliza, eldest daughter of the Rev. Henry Finsham, by whom he had four children. She died on the 1st of November, 1800. He was an accom- plished gentleman, an elegant scholar, and a respectable divine, and was especially distinguished for a spirit of active philanthropy. He published a Sermon preached on the Anniversary of King Charles' Martyrdom, 1785 ; * It is presumed there must be some mistake either in the date of this letter, or in respect to the time when the Bishop is said to have embarked for America, which was September, 1728. GEORGE BERKELEY. Q9 one on Good Friday, 1787 ; one at Cookham, on the King's Accession, 1789. His Sermon on the Consecration of Bishop Home, who was his intimate friend, was published after his death. In 1799, his widow pub- lished a volume of his Sermons with a Biographical Preface. ROGER PRICE * 1729—1747. Roger Price was descended from an ancient family, who are said to have traced their lineage to Royalty. His father, William Price, was Rector of Whitfield, Northamptonshire, England, and his mother, whose name was Isabella CoUingwood, came from Berwick on the Tweed, and was a daughter of Daniel CoUingwood, a Captain in the army of Charles the First, who died from a wound that he received at the battle of Edge Hill. William and Elizabeth Price had ten children, — four sons and six daughters. Three of the sons became clergymen, and four of the daughters clergymen's wives. The father, William Price, died in the year 1749, his wife having died some time before. Of the history of Roger Price's early years nothing is known with cer- tainty, though it is believed that he was educated at the University of Oxford. In 1722, he was presented to the Parish of St. Ann's on the Island of Jamaica ; but whether he ever became the incumbent of that parish, or, if so, how long he remained there, cannot now be ascertained. The following extract from a letter, addressed to him, about that time, by his father, shows that he at least contemplated the acceptance of the place, while it breathes a spirit of deep parental solicitude : — "If it please G-od that you proceed upon your intended voyage, may his protection be your continued guard and guide,, and I shall daily pray that God will present you in all your doings with his most gracious favour, and give you success in what you undertake. "And I think it my duty to give you some advice, which, if you shall think fit to follow, I do not doubt but that you will find your account in so doing. You are going into a far country remote from all your friends : make it, therefore, your first and chief concern to make God your friend, that He may go along with you. Acquaint yourself with Him by constant and fervent prayer ; by meditation, reading, and strict duty and obedience, not fashioning yourself to what you see, but setting yourself a pattern of what you are to teach and preach ; considering that you never can appear so much to advantage, or gain so much esteem and reputation to yourself, as when you walk by rule, and study to order your whole conversation as becomes the Gospel of Christ. Think not that you go abroad to get money, and to enrich yourself by merchandise — you have business of more conse- quence incumbent upon you, — a duty which requires your constant thought •Howe'B Ontury Sermon.— Greenwood's Hist. King's Chap — MSS. from Rev. A. L. Eaury lad aim Frances E. Valentine. 70 EPISCOPALIAN. and attention. Mind the work more than the wages. I had rather you should return with the character of a faithful minister, that had done your duty, given a good example, and answered the end of your appointment, than to have you return with a different character, though with your weight in gold ; and in the end you will be of my mind, whatever you may think at present. Trust not to your own ability, and sufBoiency, and wisdom, in what you are going about ; but consider your own insufficiency, and seek help and direction where it may and only is to be found. And that is in Grod. Our all-sufficiency is from Him. Make the Word of God your rule to walk and act by, and you will never do amiss. The office you undertake is so far from indulging you in any unbecoming liberties, that it requires the most exact conduct and behaviour, your example being that which will be far more prevalent than your preaching ; and your living in a barbarous and heathen country should lay the greater obligation upon you to live suit- ably to the purity of your Christian profession, that your light may shine for your direction and conviction of others, and to the glory of God. Abstain from all things unbecoming your profession, from all appearance of evil, and if you will take my advice, from all kind of gaming, which can no ways turn to your advantage, very often to your damage and reproach. You will observe the miserable condition of the natives where you go, the slavery, ignorance, and barbarity, in which they live ; bless God for the happiness you enjoy, and prize it by your thankful acknowledgments, and by a right use and improvement of it." In 1725, Mr. Price was presented to the Kectory of Lee, in the county of Essex ; and this living he retained till the close of his life. He also possessed two others, — one at Durrington, and one at Wiltshire, in addition to an entailed estate at Beckley. In March, 1727, the Eectorship of King's Chapel, Boston, was rendered vacant by the death of the Kev. Samuel Myles ;* and, shortly after, the * Samuel Mvles was graduated at Harvard College in 1684, and received the degree of Master of Arts from the TJniversity of Oxford in 1693. He was inducted into the Rectorship of King's Chapel on the 29th of June, 1689, and continued in the regular discharge of his duties until July, 1692, when he visited England for the purpose of laying before the proper authorities the condition of the Chapel and Congregation, and obtaining aid in their behalf. Ho returned on the 24:th of July, 1696, having been very successful in enlisting the Royal bounty in aid of his objeot ; part of which was an annuity of one hundred pounds for the support of an Assistant Minister at the Chapel. In March, 1699, the Rev. Christopher Bridge, who had been educated at the University of Cambridge, England, arrived, as an Assistant to Mr. Myles J but, after a few years, a serious disagreement arose between the Rector and the Assis- tant, in consequence, as it would seem, of the inequality of their ofScial rights, which had well nigh convulsed the Church, and in 1706 put in requisition the authority of the Bishop of Lon- don to effect a reconciliation. The difficulty was finally settled by the removal of Mr. Bridge the same year, to the Narragansett Church, R. I. Mr. Myles having remained without an Assistant for about two years, the Rev. Henry Harris was sent over, early in the year 1709 to take Mr. Bridge's vacated place. On the 16th of April, 1723, Mr. Myles laid the corner sline of Christ Church, which was opened for public worship, by Dr. Cutler, on the 29th of Decem- ber following. In the summer of 1727, his health had become so much impaired that he was incapable of attending any longer to his public duties. He diedeariy in March, 1728, having been the Rector of the Chapel for nearly forty years. Dr. Greenwood speaks of him as havine been "a worthy and pious man, and an acceptable preacher;" also as "prudent and ener- getic." Mr. Bridge, above mentioned, seems not to have had a more peaceful ministry at Narra- gansett than at Boston. The Bishop of London, in a letter to the officers of King's Chanel speaks of him as having " committed an insolent riot upon the Church of Rhode Island-" but what the nature of it was has not been ascertained. After remaining a short time at Narra- gansett, he became Rector of the Church in Rye, N. T., in January, 1709, and there closed his mmisty and his life, on the 23d of May, 1719, aged about forty-eight years. The " Bos- ton News Letter," of that date, says he was " a religious and worthy man, a very good scholar, md a hne, grave preacher ; his performances in the pulpit were solid, judicious and profitable. ROGER PRICE. 71 congregation proceeded to make arrangements for supplying the vacancy. Mr. Thomas Sandford, who was their agent in London, had an interview on the subject with the Bishop of London, the result of which was that it was agreed that his Lordship should recommend some suitable person as Kector, who should be the person whom Mr. Sandford, as the agent of the Congre- gation, should present to his Lordship for license. Mr. Price was accord- , ^ ingly recommended, presented, and licensed. His license was dated March i^ l^^'^ ) 4, 1728—29. The Bishop (Dr. G-ibson) says of him in a letter written in April, 1729, — " He has been long known to me, and is one whom I am willing to trust with the power of Commissary for inspecting the lives and manners of the Clergy, if he succeed in that place ; and I think a better service cannot be done to a congregation than the inducing both parties to unite in him." Mr. Price's induction to his Rectorship is thus narrated : — "About four o'clock in the afternoon, (June 25, 1729,) the Rev. Mr. Roger Price was conducted into King's Chapel by the Rev. Mr. Henry Harris, it being a few hours after the arrival of the Rev. Mr. Price, and a letter from Mr. Thomas Sandford to the Committee was read, importing that the Rev. Mr. Roger Price was the person he had presented to the Lord Bishop of London, by virtue of the power devolved upon him by the votes of the congregation of the 13th of March, 1727—28. "Whereupon the Rev. Mr. Price produced the following License and Certificate, reading them in the Church, and then delivered them to the Church-wardens, to be recorded in the Church Booli." Herie follow copies of the Bishop's License in Latin, and Mr. Price's declaration in English to conform to the Liturgy, duly sealed and signed. Then the account proceeds : — "These above being read, the Rev. Mr. Henry Harris, the Church-wardens, the Vestrymen, and the people who were present, all went out of the church, the Church- wardens at the door delivering the key of the church to the Rev. Mr. Price, who, lock- ing himself into the church, tolled the bell, and then unlocked the door of the church, receiving tlie Church -wardens and Vestrymen into the church again, who wished him joy in having possession of the church. Then the Rev. Mr. Price ordered the Clerk to give public warning in the church, upon the Sunday following, that the congregation meet in the church next Wednesday, at eleven of the clock in the forenoon." The next year, (1730,) Mr. Price received from the Bishop of London a commission as Commissary, an oihce which added not a little to both his labours and his responsibilities. On the 15th of April, 1734, Commissary Price laid the Corner stone of Trinity Church, and on the 15th of August, 1735, he preached the first sermon in the new edifice. Mr. Price had not been long settled as Rector, before differences began to spring up between him and his congregation, on account of what they his conversation very agreeable and improving : and though a strict Churchman iu bis principles, yet of great respect and charity to Dissenters, and much esteemed by them." In 1733, Cnitis- TOPHEB Brid&b, believed to be a son of this Mr. Bridge, graduated at Harvard College, was afterwards settled as an Episcopal clergyman on the Island of Jamaica, and died in 1773, at the age of seventy. Mb. Harris, above mentioned, returned to England, with the consent of the church, in the winter of 1714, partly to attend to his own private business, and partly to request the Vener- able Society to send ministers to two new Episcopal Churches, one in Newbury, the other in Marblehead. He returned late in 1715, and was received by his people with great joy. After- wards, however, owing to some cause which is not now understood, he became obnoxious to a considerable portion of them, so that, on the decease of Mr. Myles, he could not be chosen Rector. Mr. Price was actually appointed, and Mr. Harris assisted in his induction, but he survived that event for only a few months. He died on the 16th of October, 1729. His stand- ing with his congregation may be judged of by the fact that, more than a year after his decease, they voted that no money should be paid out of the church stock towards defraying the expenses of his burial, though they had granted an expensive funeral to Mr. Myles. 72 EPISCOPALIAN. regarded an assumption, on his part, of undue authority. In consequence of this, in May, 1734, he communicated his intention of leaving the church and returning to England ; and the announcement seems to have occasioned little regret. He took his passage on hoard a vessel bound to London, and actually set sail in her ; but, being detained at Nantasket by contrary winds, he came to Boston, made his peace with his congregation, and again became their Kector. He consented to the six following articles, as the condition of his being received back : — " 1. To have no pretensions to the perquisites of the money for burying under the church. " 2. To have no pretensions in choosing a Church-warden. " 3. To have no pretensions to the Church stock. " 4. To have no pretensions to the Church library — only the use of them. " 5. To preach on Sunday afternoon, when it can be done. "6. To make due entries of the Church Marriages, Christenings, and Burials, in the Book provided for that purpose." These conditions give a clue to the nature of the assumptions of which the congregation complained, and not less to the different spirit which was even then springing up in King's Chapel, from that which was not only tolerated but cherished on the other side of the water. There is a tradition among the descendants of Mr. Price that his return to Boston, after having set sail for England, had an important bearing upon his future domestic relations. It is said that, on the Sabbath after his return, he attended Divine service at Trinity Church, and that, in some accidental wandering of the eye, he saw, for the first time, the young lady, who shortly after became his wife. At any rate, he was married sometime the next year to Elizabeth, daughter of John Bull, and great-granddaugh- ter of a person by the name of Bull, who was Mayor of St. Edmondsbury, England. She was a lady of great personal attractions, and possessed a considerable estate ; from which it would appear that he was duly attentive to the advice given him by his father, in a letter dated March 11, 1729, in which, speaking of the choice of a wife, he says, — " Choose by weight j then you will be sure of something." In 1741, he addressed the following letter to the Bishop of London, a copy of which (without date,) has been found among his papers. It sheds some light upon the difficulties which existed at that time between himself and his congregation : "Mt Lord: " Mr. Whitefield,* who is the occasion of much debate and enquiry, is expected here the next fall. I should be glad to receive your Lordship's directions for my behaviour towards him . The troubles of my church daily increase, and my desire of quitting this station increases with them. There is at present a warm contest in my congregation, relating to the sale of the pews belonging to the members of the new Church, who still continue to vote, and thereby foment differences in mine. The consequence of this dispute, as indeed of most others ni the church, *Mis8 Frances B. Valentine, a grcat-gvnnddaiighter of Commissary Price, who has kindly furnished mo this letter, accompanies it ivith the following statement:— " My mother says, whatever instructions the Bishop of London may have given to her grandfather, regarding his treatment of Mr. Whitefield, it is certain they were good friends, and that Mr. Whitefiold was very ill at Commissary Price^s house in Boston, and received every attention, during his illness from him and his family; and that, after Mr. Whitefield left Boston, he wrote to the Commis- sary, warmly thanking him for his great kindness." EOGEE PRICE. 73 is the non-payment of my salary, the dissatisfied party commonly withdrawing their contribution, for which we can find no remedy but patience. If j'our Lord- ship would please to express such a disapprobation of this irregularity as to allow me to hold both places in the church till the minister's salary is fixed upon some sure basis, and to acquaint them with the reason of this indulgence, I believe I could, by this means, establish the constitution of this church for the future, which can scarce be effected when they have no favour to ask, and another minister to officiate; and indeed, in this case, my very enemies would assist in it. " We received, not long ago, the agreeable news of a new Governor, and that Mr. Shirley, a very worthy gentleman, and a member of the Church of England, residing here, was the person ; but our hopes are something dampened by a later account, which informs us that the present is like to be continued by a strong interest the Quakers have made for him. This disappointment in our expecta- tions is so much the more grievous, inasmuch as the interest that keeps him in was purchased by his unjust treatment of the Church of England, and basely recommending the Quakers to the favour of the General Court, by which they obtained a law to exempt them from paying any ministerial rate, which was denied to the members of the Church of England, then petitioning for the same privilege. I hope, my^ Lord, such unjust behaviour, a distinguished affront toward the National Church, does not pass for merit at home; at least that the churches here have some friends in England, who will not see such unworthy treatment of their brethren approved of and rewarded, without some notice and resentment. I am your Lordship's Most dutiful Son and Obedient Servant, KOG. PRICE." About 1743-44, Mr. Price, without resigning his charge at Boston, went to Hopkinton, Mass., and purchased a large tract of land " on the banks of a noble river," (as he writes to his brother.) There he built a church at his own expense, conveying the land on which it stood in trust to the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, " for the ben- efit and use of the Church of England, and for no other use, intent or purpose whatsoever." This church he endowed with a glebe of a hundred and eighty acres, in trust to the above named Society, " for the benefit and advantage of an orthodox minister of the Church of England, who shall preach and perform Divine service according to the rites and ceremonies used in said Church of England, to the people from time to time dwelling in and near Hopkinton, and for no other use intent, purpose, or persons what- ever." This deed is dated July 9, 1748. For about three years, Mr. Price acted as Missionary in Hopkinton, and after him, the Rev. John Troutbeck ; and upon the removal of the latter to Boston, the church remained unsupplied ufltil it became virtually extinct, and the glebe was well-nigh lost. Some years since, the Rev. Alfred L. Baury opened a cor- respondence with the Secretary of the Society above named, and was furnished with a power of Attorney, in consequence of which the property has been recovered at Mr. B.'s sole expense, and the income applied agree, ably to Mr. Price's intention. The parish is already, it is understood, in a promising condition. Vol,. V. 10 74 EPISCOPALIAN. Mr. Price's relations to his people at Boston seem to have been occasion- ally disturbed by the occurrence of adverse circumstances ; and on more than one occasion the Bishop of London was appealed to. At length, on Thanksgiving, November 27, 1746, he again signified to them his intention to resign his Bectorship, and return to England. In April following, he conducted his successor, the Kev. Henry Caner, to the Chapel, — the same form, substantially, of putting him in possession of the church being observed as had previously been in Mr. Price's own case. In June follow- ing, he sailed for England in the Mermaid man-of-war, taking his eldest son with him, and leaving his wife and two children in Boston. He addressed the following letter to his wife, dated " PoBTSMOUTH Bat, June 18, 1747. "MtDbae: " We sailed from Nantasket Thursday night, about nine o'clock, and are now waiting before Piscataquay Town for the mast ships, which will make a fleet of ten sail, besides our own ship. There are some gentlemen from Piscataquay now on board, among which is Mr. Quinsay, who will deliver you this. Billy is well, and feels pleased. He was at first scared with the firing of the great guns, but his fear is now over, and he is very little affected with the motion of the ship. He fares very well, as we do all, and every thing is as agreeable as we could expect. I hope you will take care of yourself and children; particularly that they may be instructed in their duty to God, by prayer and reading. I think it best that Henry should go into the country. Remember to send home Mr. Franklin's pamphlet. Let your thoughts and dependance be much fixed upon God, and He will direct you for the best, which, that He may do will be the constant prayer of Your affectionate husband, BOG. PRICE." " Remember me to all friends, and thank Mr. Derby for his kindness." It would appear from letters still extant that, after remaining in England a year or two, Mr. Price returned to America for his family, and remained here till the summer of 1753 ; though it does not appear whether, during that time, he was in the exercise of his clerical function. After his final return to England, he resided at Leigh, where he was " Incumbent of the Parish of Leigh, in the Deanery of Broughing, and Archdeaconry of St. Albans." During his residence in this country, Mr. Price, as has been already stated, bought an extensive tract of land in and around Hopkinton, extending from Framingham to Westborough ; but, after his return to Eng- land, it was badly managed by his agents, and a considerable portion of it was lost to his family. The Rev. John Troutbeck, who succeeded him as Missionary at Hopkinton, and whom he had requested to look after his affairs there, thus writes to him under date, January 23, 1755 : — " I thank you for the good opinion you are pleased to entertain of me, in trusting me with the power of an Attorney to manage your afiairs ; but, after making some inquiry into the state of them, I find them in so bad a condition that I dare not by any means engage in them I am far from thinking Hopkinton the Paradise it was described to be ; but, however, I shall not complain of it, if I can have my health in ROGER PRICE. 75 it, which indeed I am afraid of, as I have been more confined by the want of it since I came here, than I have been my whole life before." Mr. Price's family were not pleased with a residence at Leigh ; and he made several attempts to obtain a more desirable living, but without success. Indeed, notwithstanding his large landed estate in this country, he seems to have been somewhat embarrassed in his worldly circumstances. But the time of his departure from the world was now drawing nigh. In Novem- ber, 1762, in consequence of an exposure from performing service in a church-yard, on a foggy night, he was seized with a violent ague, which rendered it impossible for him to reach home without assistance, and which was followed by a fatal inflammatory fever. He died at Leigh, December 8, 1762. He was the father of six children, five of whom were living at the time of his death. His family, shortly after his decease, removed from Leigh, to make room for the new incumbent ; and took up their residence at Hammersmith, in the County of Middlesex. In May, 1764, Mrs. Price petitioned the " Gov- ernors of the Charity for the relief of Poor Widows and Children of Cler- gymen," representing the condition of her family as one of pressing need; and she was admitted a " Pensioner of the Corporation ;" though the amount that she received is not known. Mrs. Price, after this, resided chiefly among her friends. She died at Beckley, on the 5th of August, 1780, in the sixty-third year of her age. Thomas, the third . son, and fourth child, of Mr. Price was drowned) in the Serpentine River, on the 9th of January, in consequence of breaking through the ice while he was skating. He was a young man of great promise, and had nearly reached his twenty-first year. Henry Yelverton, the second son and third child, died on the 14th of August, 1780, aged thirty-nine years. William, the eldest son and second child, was a Major in the British army ; came to this country with his sister Elizabeth in the summer of 1783, and the next year gave up his commission in the army, and retired on half pay. From that time he resided at Hopkinton, where he died, greatly lamented, on the 7th of December, 1802, leaving two daughters. Elizabeth, the eldest child, died in Boston, July 3, 1826, in her ninety-second year. She was buried in Hopkinton, having been a libe- ral benefactor to the church there, which her father had been instrumental of establishing. Andrew, who was born after his parents returned to Eng- land, was educated at Oxford, became a clergyman of the Established Church, and had a living at Bromley, and one at Britwell, Salome, near Titsworth, Oxfordshire. He resided at the latter place, and died there on the 7th of June, 1851. He died from exhaustion of the brain, having nearly completed his ninety-seventh year. The Rectory in which he died had been in his wife's family more than four hundred years. He left no children, and never came to this country. Mr. Price, while in this country, published two Sermons ; one on occa- sion of the death of John Jekyll, Esq., Collector of Customs, 1733 ; and the other on the death of the Queen, 1788. The Rev. Dr. Greenwood, in referring to the former of them, says, — "The style is considerably studied and ornate, and the sentiments are good and well suited to the occasion. It is such a sermon as would be heard with interest, at any time, by any congregation." 76 EPISCOPALIAN. ARTHUR BROWNE. 1729—1773. FROM THE EBV. CHARLES BUEEOtTGHS, D. D., EEoiOK OF SI. John's chueoh, poktsmouth. Portsmouth, N. H., July 10, 1867. Rev. and dear Sir : We are often astonished at the vast effects pro- duced by apparently inconsiderable causes, and at the full assurance they give us of the providential government of God in relation to all the events of the world. Who could have imagined that the sailing of Dean Berkeley, on his philanthropic mission to the Bermudas, was to exert a powerful influence in connection with the Christian Ministry, extending through at least two generations, upon the religious interests of the capital of New Hampshire ? The fact was that Dean Berkeley's scheme of Christianizing the Indians of America fired with missionary zeal the heart of Arthur Browne, then a student in Trinity College, Dublin, where the Dean was educated, and placed that noble youth over the Episcopal Church in this town. The Dean's liberality established a foundation at Yale College for three students, who should continue, on certain conditions, as resident graduates of the College ; and one of these students was the Bev. Dr. Joseph Buckminster, who was, for thirty years, the highly respected and honoured minister of the North Parish in this town. It is, however, only the life and character of the Rev. Arthur Browne, which I propose to make the subject of this communication. He was a son of the Rev. John Browne, who was a native of Scotland, but who seems in early life to have removed to Ireland. He was descended from the Coul- stones, — a highly respectable family, and one of his descendants was a Miss Browne, who was Countess of Dalhousie, and about thirty years since pos- sessed the paternal estate of the Coulstones. He had married in Ireland, soon after the battle of Boyne, at which he was present, which was fought on the River Boyne, about two miles above Drogheda, and twenty-five from Dublin, — a battle in which King William the Third, in person, defeated King James the Second and his army, on the 1st of July, 1690 ; a battle which was said to have been one important cause of the subsequent pro- gress of the British empire in wealth, power, and population. He held in the Church the distinguished rank of Archdeacon of Elphin. Arthur Browne was born at Drogheda, in Ireland, in the year 1699. His birthplace was of great historical fame, as, in 1649, it was stormed by Qliver Cromwell, who put most of the inhabitants to the sword. He was educated at Trinity College, Dublin, where, on the 29th of July, 1729, he received the degree of Master of Arts. It was only about a year before this that Dean Berkeley embarked for Bermuda, on his philanthropic pro- ject. The contagion of his enthusiasm was irresistible. He defended the wisdom of his expedition for the conversion of the Indians with such elo- quence that some of his warmest opponents were confounded, and said " Let us go immediately with him." The kindled susceptibilities of Arthur ARTHUR BROWNE. 77 Browne impelled him to missionary activity. He offered himself to the service of the Venerable Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts. He was ordained by Dr. Edmund Gibson, Bishop of London, in the year 1729, and was immediately designated to an Episcopal church in Providence, R. I. Before leaving Ireland, he was married to Mary, daughter of the Rev. Thomas Cox, D. D., of Drogheda. It is said that, for a little time, he was Private Secretary to Dean Swift, who, it was then rumoured, would probably be sent as Bishop to America. Mr. Browne came to this country immediately after receiving ordination, and arrived at Newport, R. I., on the 2d of September, 1729. He remained there till October 1, 1730, when he went to Providence, and entered on his duties as the minister of the King's Chapel in that town, — being the third Rector of that church. He remained there nearly six years, — till February, 1736. It was a truly noble spirit that brought this young man to our American shores ; — that led him to quit his native country and happy home, and sacri- fice his bright prospects, to encounter the many inconveniences and evils incident to this new country, its hostility to Episcopacy, its low state of religion, and the extensive prevalence of infidelity, especially among men in high places. For Dean Berkeley, after his return to Ireland, stated in his Annual Discourse before the Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts, that, "though some persons of a better sort were accus- tomed to assemble themselves regularly on the Lord's day for the perform- ance of public worship, yet that most of those who were dispersed through the Colonies, seemed to manifest a thorough indifference for all that was sacred, being equally careless of outward works and inward principles, whether of faith or practicia. Of the best of them it may certainly be said that they live without the Sacraments, not being so much as baptized." But Arthur Browne had put his hand to the plough, and would not look back. He soon realized excellent fruits of his ministry at Providence. When he had been there three years, he stated in the Report of his Mission that, " on his first coming to this place, he found the number of persons attending Divine worship very small, and the communicants numbering only twenty- seven persons ; but that then he had more than one hundred persons in his congregation, and forty-six communicants." The attachment of his parish- ioners to him was proved by the fact that they presented to him, to his heirs and assignees, a parsonage house, and a glebe consisting of twenty acres of orchard, meadow, and pasture land. His talents, learning, and usefulness made him very widely known and highly respected. His fame reached this place, (Portsmouth,) and the Episcopalians here, who had founded a church in 1732, expressed an earnest desire that he should become its minister. It happened that David Dunbar, the Lieuten- ant Governor of New Hampshire, who had been among the most active in forming the church, was a warm admirer of Arthur Browne, and was among the most zealous for his settlement here. For this purpose repeated entrea- ties were made to him, to the Bishop of London, and to the Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts. At length, on the 25th of August, 1735, an unanimous and most urgent invitation was sent to him to 78 EPISCOPALIAN. become the minister of this church ; and the invitation was accepted. Most reluctantly did his parishioners at Providence part with him. It appears, from the Records of that parish, that Mr. Browne gave back to the parish the parsonage house and glebe given to him, and ordered that they should become the property of the future ministers of the church. There is a tradition that one reason of his leaving the church was, that the contri- butions promised for his support were not faithfully paid. In 1736, Mr. Browne came to reside here, and for thirty-seven years was the faithful, revered, and beloved pastor of the Episcopal church in this town, where his name and virtues are still held in grateful remem- brance. His character, talents, and preaching were, through providence, eminently influential in giving strength and permanence to this church. His able and faithful care caused its roots to spread far and deep. Not the semblance of a stain rests upon his character. He commanded the respect, esteem, and confidence of all who knew him. Though living in troublous times, that involved powerful temptations to swerve from the plain path of rectitude, his elevated principles, sound sense, uncommon discretion, and generous and philanthropic spirit, enabled him to pursue a course that commanded the universal approbation of the virtuous and wise. He was a thorough theologian and an accurate scholar. His discourses were eminently instructive as well as impressive ; as is proved not only by a uniform tradition, but by the few specimens which he gave to the world through the press. In controversy he held a vigorous pen, and evinced great directness, clearness, and logical acumen. He was a laborious and faithful missionary. He had a highly conservative mind, which kept him from the two extremes of latitudinarianism and enthusiasm. He combined, in a remarkable degree, firmness of opinion and purpose with kindness of heart ; was highly respected and esteemed by all denominations, and is spoken of by those who have seen and heard him, as one rarely surpassed in dignity and influence. In the year 1750, he passed several months in England, where he received the highest attentions. He returned home with renewed interest in his duties, and his labours were subsequently crowned with signal success. But time at length began to make inroads upon his constitution, and to admonish him that his period of active labour was drawing to a close. On the 13th of July, 1772, he intimated to his parish his inability to preach any longer, and urged them to apply, with as little delay as possi- ble, to the Venerable Society for another minister. While such a purpose was in the course of accomplishment, the declining health of Mr. Browne sufliered a severe shock by the death of his wife, on the 5th of April, 1773. His friends prevailed on him, shortly after, to take a journey to Cambridge, and visit his daughter, the wife of the Eev. Winwood Serjeant. But, while there, he had an attack of apoplexy, and expired on the 10th of June, 1773, in the seventy-fourth year of his age, and the thirty-seventh of his ministry. His remains were brought to Portsmouth, and were depos- ited in the Wentworth tomb, in the grave-yard of the church he had so long served. The Rev. Mr. (afterwards Bishop) Bass, of Newburyport, preached a Funeral Sermon from the words, — " Your fathers, where are they ? " He ARTHUH EROWNE. 79 said, — " This man of God came into our country a young man. Soon after his entering into Holy Orders, and for more than forty years, with very little interruption, he laboured in the work of the ministry, which he executed with great reputation, having been all along esteemed an excellent preacher and orator, and a faitRful parish minister." The following is a list of Mr. Browne's publications : — A Sermon deliv- ered on the day appointed for the Execution of Penelope Kenny, 1739. A Sermon on the Folly and Perjury of the Rebellion in Scotland, preached at Portsmouth, 1746. A Sermon delivered at Boston, before a Lodge of Free Masons, 1755. A Sermon delivered on the Annual Fast, 1757. A Ser- mon on the Doctrine of Election, preached at Portsmouth, 1757. Remarks on Dr. Mayhew's Incidental Reflections, by a Son of the Church of Eng- land, 1763. "The death of so" respectable a pastor," (says the New Hampshire G-azette of that date,) must, to his parishioners, be a most afflicting stroke of Providence. His great ability as a divine and eminent preacher is too well known to need an eulogy ; and as his moral character, hospitality, generous and universal benevolence were the eminently striking ornaments of his conduct in life, his death is universally lamented by all who had the happiness of his acquaintance. He was an affectionate husband, a tender parent, a generous friend, and a truly pious and honest man." Thus lived and died Arthur Browne, the only Episcopal minister settled in New Hampshire from the days of the Rev. Richard Gibson,* in the year 1642, to the year 1786. It may be said that he died in a good time. He was taken from all that fearful accumulation of horrors brought on by the Revolution, from which his loyalty would not have allowed him to escape. Truly it is not given to man to know on earth the mercy of God's appointed hour for his death. Arthur Browne had nine children, and as most of them were distin- guished, either in their characters or their relations, your readers may perhaps be gratified to know something respecting them. I therefore sub- join the following account : — 1. Thomas Browne, the eldest son, was born in Dublin, Ireland, and died in this town, when he was quite young, and shortly after the settlement of his father here. It was doubtless before the year 1740. 2. Marmaduke Browne was born in Providence, R. I., in the year 1781. He was educated at Trinity College, Dublin, where he was admitted to the degree of Bachelor of Arts, February 16, 1754. After receiving Deacon's Orders from the Bishop of London, he returned to this country, being appointed by the Honourable Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, as an itinerant missionary, to be Assistant Minister to his father in the Province of New Hampshire. He was early married to an Irish lady of considerable wealth, and distinguished also for her amiable manners and earnest piety. After the death of Mr. Honyman, the Rector • Rev. Richard Gibson was sent to this country as minister to a fishing plantation, belonging to one Trelawney, of Plymouth, England. He exercised his ministerial function in full accordance with the Episcopal ritual and discipline. In 1642, he was preaching to the fishermen on the Isle of Shoals. He was summoned before the Court at Boston, for scandalizing the Govern- ment there, and denying their title; but, upon his submission, they discharged him without fine or punishment, on the ground that he was a stranger, and about to leave the country. 80 EPISCOPALIAN. of Trinity Churcli, Newport, E. I., in 1750, an earnest application was made to Mr. Browne to become his successor ; but he declined. The Eev. Mr. Pollen was chosen Rector, and remained in that office till 1760, when he resigned it ; and the application to Mr. Browne was now renewed with increased urgency, and was successful. He was settled over that church on the 11th of December, 1760. He went to England on a visit in 1769. He was a man of eminent abilities, learning, and piety ; and his ministry was both happy and successful. His wife died on the 6th of January, 1767. His own decease, doubtless hastened by the severity of that afflic- tion, occurred on the 19th of March, 1771. The Rev. Mr. Bisset,* his Assistant Minister, preached the Discourse at his Funeral. In the year 1795, a tablet Was erected to the memory of Marmaduke Browne, by his son, Arthur Browne, which is now to be seen on the wall of Trinity Church at Newport — it is of marble ; has a likeness of Mr. Browne, on the top, in basso relievo ; and bears a most just and beautiful notice of him, written in Latin. It was an honour to him to have such an expression of filial gratitude and veneration from a son who held in Ireland so high a rank ; who was a member of Parliament from the University of Dublin ; was Fellow and Proctor of Trinity College ; was King's Professor of Grreek, and Doctor of the Civil Law, — on which subject he wrote a celebrated treatise. He was also Prime Sergeant of Ireland. He closed a career of singular usefulness and honour, at the age of fifty, in the year 1795. 3. Lucy Brow?ie was born at Providence, about 1733. On the 25th of February, 1750, she was married to Colonel Smith, of the British army, who soon afterwards left this country to join his regiment. In the autumn of that year, she accompanied her father to England, and went to South Wales, the station and home of her husband, where she continued to reside till her death, which occurred in the year 1770. 4. Jane Browne was born in Providence, in 1734. She was married in Portsmouth, N. H., by her father, on the 23d of September, 1759, to Mr. Samuel Livermore, who was graduated at Princeton College in 1752 ; studied Law with the Hon. Edward Trowbridge ; commenced the practice of Law at Portsmouth, in 1758, and attained to great professional emi- nence ; was Judge Advocate of the Admiralty Court before the Revolu- tion ; Attorney General of New Hampshire ; Chief Justice of that State ; and a Senator of the United States from 1793 to 1801. He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Laws from Dartmouth College, in 1792. He had a large landed estate in Holderness, N. H., where he died in May, 1803, in the seventy-second year of his age. Rev. George Bisset came from England to Newport, as Assistant to Mr. Browne, and as schoolmaster, in 1767, and his passage was paid by the church. When Mr. Browne went to England, in 1769, Mr. Bisset supplied his place as minister. On the 28th of October, 1771, the Venerable Society having declined sending them a Missionary, the congregation elected Mr. Bisset as Mr. Browne's successor. He oontinned with them until the evacuation of the Island, which took place on the 26th of October, 1779, — when he went to New York, with sev- eral members of Trinity Church, leaving his wife and child behind, in the most destitute circumstances. His furniture was seized by the State of Rhode Island, but afterwards, upon the petition of his wife to the General Assembly, it was restored to her; and she, with her child, waa permitted to go to her husband in New York. He was appointed a Missionary to St. John's about 1786, and died there in 1788. The celebrated Br. Samuel Peters says of him, — he "is a very sensible man, a good scholar and compiler of sermons, although too bashful to appear in company, or in the pulpt." AETHUR BROWNE. g]^ Mary Browne was born at Providence, early in the year 17S6, and was married to the Rev. Winwood Serjeant, by her father, in Portsmouth, October 31, 1765. She died of paralysis in Bath, England, in 1808. Mr. Serjeant was probably a native of Bristol, England, and bom about the year 1739. He was ordained Priest by Dr. Pearce, Bishop of Rochester, December 19, 1756, and the same day was licensed, by the Bishop of Lon- don, for South Carolina. Early in 1759 he was made Assistant Minister of St. Philip's Church, Charleston. He resigned this situation towards the close of the same year, in consequence of sickness and domestic afflic- tion, and removed to St. George's Parish, Dorchester, where he remained as Missionary till his departure from that Province, in 1767. He had been married previous to his coming to America, and his wife followed him to this country, but afterwards returned to England, and died there. After his second marriage, he returned to England, on a visit, and came back to this country in the summer of 1767, as Missionary to the Church of Cam- bridge, Mass. On the 16th of July, of that year, the Church voted to provide him a house, and to pay him his salary of a hundred pounds, from the Easter following. He preached the Sermon at the Opening of the Con- vention of the Episcopal Clergy in Boston, at the King's Chapel, on the 14th of September, 1774. He was repeatedly invited that year to preach at Portsmouth, while the church was vacant by the decease of his father- in-law ; but he was unwilling to leave his own church at Cambridge. But the dark and troublous period of the Revolution drove him from his home, and the cherished scene of his clerical labours. On the 18th of February, 1775, he was made Chaplain of a ship of war in Boston Harbour. In the year 1777, he resided, for a while, in Newburyport, Mass. He had the agony of knowing that his church was occupied for barracks, and that its noble organ was broken. In 1778, he went to England, and resided at Bristol. His health was now much impaired, in consequence of an attack of para- lysis, which he had suffered the year before. He became extremely poor, and left Bristol for Bath, where he had another attack of his malady, and where he died on the 20th of September, 1780. His son, Marmaduke Browne, aged fourteen years, died about the same time with him, and was buried in the same grave. Two daughters survived him — Mary, born in Cambridge, in 1769, and Elizabeth, born some years afterwards. To the credit of the Grovernment, his widow obtained an annual pension of a hun- dred pounds. 6. Anne Browne was born in Portsmouth, in 1738, and was married, February 9, 1756, to Capt. G-eorge St. Loe, of the British Navy. She was divorced from her husband, and immediately afterwards went to Ire- land. She was again married, in 1767, lived in England, and became the mother of three children. She was married a third time, to a man by the name of Kelly, of reckless character, who treated her with the utmost neglect. She died probably before the year 1790. 7. Elisabeth Browne was born in Portsmouth, in the year 1741, and was married to Major Robert Rogers, memorable for his daring exploits with the Indians, during the French war. He was a native of Dunbarton, N. H., though his parents had emigrated from Ireland. He was Captain of a company at the battle of Fort Edward, and was Major of the Rangers Vol. V. 11 82 EPISCOPALIAN. at Ticonderpga, in 1758, when Aberorombie was defeated. He was made Governor and Commander in Chief at Mackinaw. He was wild, improvi- dent and extravagant, and fell a victim to his evil habits. He died about the beginning of the present century, while on the King's Bench in Eng- land. His widow became the wife of Captain John Koche, of Concord, N. H., who commanded the Rangers previous to the celebrated John Paul Jones. Mrs. Rogers left one son, Arthur, who died at Portsmouth, about twenty years since ; and she herself died at Concord about the year 1812. He pubjished A Concise Account of North America, London, 1765 ; Jour- nals of the French War, 1765, — which was republished at Concord, N. H., in 1831, under the title, — " Reminiscences of the French War, with the Life of Stark." 8. Arthur Browne was born in Portsmouth, probably in the year 1743. He entered the British army when he was only sixteen years of age ; for three years was stationed at Quebec ; for several years was sta- tioned near Cork, in Ireland ; about the year 1768, received a Captain's commission ; was married to a lady in Ireland ; went in 1773 to Gibraltar, and remained there with his regiment till 1784 ; and then returned to Eng- land and resided at Biddeford. In 1790, he sold out his commission at a great price. For a part of it, he obtained the Governorship of Kinsale, where he then resided. There he died, August 1, 1794, leaving no children. 9. Peter Browne was born in Portsmouth, in or about the year 1746 ; entered the British army, when only fourteen years of age, in 1760 ; the next year was ordered to Barbadoes ; and was afterwards, for many years, stationed at Fort George, Inverness. He was married to an English lady, in 1772. He was for a considerable time at Gibraltar, in the capacity of a Major, and died in the year 1786, leaving two children. With much regard, very truly yours, CHARLES BURROUGHS. JOHN BEACH.* 1732—1782. John Beach was born in the year 1700. He is supposed to have been a descendant of Richard Beach, whO' settled early at Watertown, and after- wards removed to New Haven, where he had a son, John, born in 1639. He graduated at Yale College in 1721, studied Theology, entered the min- istry, and was settled for a number of years as Pastor of the Congregational Church at Newtown, Conn. Having become intimate with the Rev. (after- wards Dr.) Samuel Johnson, who resided at Stratford, and often preached at Newtown, he was led to doubt the validity of his own ordination ; and, though he examined the subject in the hope of getting rid of his scruples, the farther his examination extended, the more his doubts increased, until finally, early in the year 1732, he declared his conformity to the Church of England. Shortly after this he was sent to England, with strong recom- • Chandler's Life of Dr. Johnson. — Hawkins' Miss. Ch. Eng. JOHN BEACH. 33 mendations, as a candidate for Holy Orders. Among other testimonials he presented was one from Mr. Honyman, a distinguished Missionary in Rhode Island, to the Bishop of London, in the following terms : — " Mr. Beach is universally esteemed by all that know him in this country, for the sake of his good morals and his learning; of this indeed your Lordship will be the best judge. He has been, for some years, a teacher amongst the Dissenters, now joins our communion upon principle, and offers his service to the Church; and it is earn- estly desired that he may return again to the place where he has lived long, and is extremely beloved. It is evident to me that no money in England is laid out to more advantage than what is expended in propagating religion in this country, in the way of our Church; and that even upon a civil as well as a religious account." Mr Beach was, accordingly, ordained and appointed to the Mission at Newtown, where he arrived in September, 1732. A considerable number of his former charge had already adopted his views, and declared for Episcopacy. In the first Report which he made to the Society, six months after he began his Mission, he states that he has forty-four communicants, and the number is constantly increasing. In 1736, his communicants were a hun- dred and five, and at the time of Whitefield's visit, he writes thus : — " Both my congregations (Newtown and Reading) are in a flourishing condition, hav- ing lost nothing by the spirit of enthusiasm, which of late prevails exceedingly among the Independents in these parts ; but ten families from them have professed themselves of the Church of England, and have joined with us." In October, 1743, after informing the Society that his people were build- ing a church, in the hope of having a settled minister, he adds, — " But the Independents, to suppress this design in its infancy, having the authority in their hands, have lately prosecuted and fined them for their meeting to worship God, according to the Common Prayer ; and the same punishment they are like to suffer for every offence in this kind, although it is the common approved practice of the same Independents to meet for worship in their own way, when they have no minister. . . . . . The case of the people is very hard. If, on the Lord's day, they continue at home, they must be punished ; if they meet to worship God, according to the Church of England, in the best manner they can, the mulct is still greater; and if they go to the Independent meeting in the town where they live, they must endure the mortifica- tion of hearing the doctrines and worship of the Church vilified, and the important truths of Christianity obscured and enervated by enthusiastic and antinomian dreams." The Mission of Reading, in which Mr. Beach was labouring, was twenty miles in length, and twelve in breadth; while he was not unfrequently called upon to visit families at a distance of fifty or sixty miles. These calls, however, he was not always able to answer, on account of bodily indisposition. After the death of the Rev. James Honyman, Missionary at Newport, R. I., in 1750, the church of which he had had the care petitioned the Vener- able Society that Mr. Beach might be sent to them as their minister. The petition was granted ; but Mr. Beach felt constrained, on account of his feeble health, to decline the appointment; fearing, as he said, that "the people might complain that a worn out man was imposed upon them." In 1760, he was called to preach before the Clergy at their Convention at New Haven ; and his Sermon was afterwards published, with a preface by Dr. Johnson, recommending it as well suited to stay the progress of latitudinarianism. It was highly approved also by the Missionaries, and gained a wide circulation. In 1762, his congregation had increased so much that he was enabled to report that "it considerably exceeded the whole number of Dissenters; g4 EPISCOPALIAN. and that, whereas, on his first arrival, there were not more than twenty communicants, there were now three hundred out of a population of a thousand Church people." In a letter dated April 12, 1765, he saySj — " I am now engaged ia a controversy with some of the Independent ministers about those absurd doctrines, the sum of which is contained in a thesis published by New Haven CoHege, last September, in these words, namely'—' Obedientia personalis non est neccssaria ad justiflcationem.' They expressly deny that there is any law of grace, which promises eternal life upon condition of faith, repentance, and sincere obe- dience, and assert justification only by the law of innocence and sinless obedience. Though my health is small, and my abilities less, and though I make it my rule never to enter into any dispute with them, unless they now begin, yet now they have made the assault, and advance such monstrous errors as do subvert the Gospelj I think myself obliged, by my ordination vow, to guard my people as well as I can against such strange doctrines, in which work hitherto I hope I have had some success, for the Church people here are very well fortified against both Jlntinomianism and Enthusi- asm, both which rage amongst the Independents, neither are there any of my parish- ioners infested in any degree with Deism." Writing from Newtown, May 5, 1772, he says, — "As it is now forty years since I have had the advantage of being the Venerable Society's Missionary in this place, I suppose it will not be improper to give a brief account how I have spent my time,' and improved their charity. Every Sunday I have performed Divine service, and preached twice, at Newtown and Reading, alternately. And in these forty years I have lost only two Sundays through sickness ; although, in all that time, I have been afSicted with a constant colic, which has not allowed me one day's ease or freedom from pain. The distance between the churches at Newtown and Heading is between eight and nine miles, and no very good road, yet have I never failed one time to attend each place according to custom, through the badness of the weather, but have rode it through the severest rains and snow-storms, even when there has been no track, and my horse near mining down in the snow-banks, — ^wliich has had this good effect on my parishioners, that they are ashamed to stay from church on account of bad weather, so that they are remarkably forward to attend the public wor- ship. As to my labours without my parish, I have formerly performed Divine service in many towns where the Common Prayer had never been heard, nor the Scriptures read in public, and where now are flourishing congregations of the Church of England, and in some places where there never had been any public worship at all, nor any ser- mon preached by any preacher of any denomination. " In my travelling to preach the Gospel, once was my life remarkably preserved in passing a deep and rapid river. The retrospect on my fatigues, as lyingon straw, &c., gives me pleasure, while I flatter myself that my labour has not been quite in vain ; for the Church of England people are increased much more than twenty to one; and what is infinitely more pleasing, many of them are remarkable for piety and virtue; Bnd the Independents here are more knowing in matters of religion than they who live at a great distance from our Church. We live in harmony and peace with each other, and the rising generation of the Independents seem to be entirely free from every pique and prejudice against the Church." The following is the last letter which he ever addressed to the Society : — " Newtown, October 31, 1781. " It is a long time since I have done my duty in writing to the Venerable Society, not owing to my carelessness, but to the impossibility of conveyance from here ; and now do it sparingly. A narrative of my troubles I dare not now give. My two congrega- tions are growing; that of Reading beingcommonly about three hundred, and at New- town about six hundred . I baptize about a hundred and thirty children in one year, and lately two adults. Newtown, and the Church of England part of Beading, are (I believe) the only parts of New England that have refused to comply with the doings of the Congress, and for that reason have been the butt of general hatred ; but God has delivered us from entire destruction . " I am now in. the eighty-second year of my age, yet do constantly alternately per- form service, and preach at Newtown and Reading. I have been sixty years a public preacher, and, after conviction, in the Church of England, fifty years; but had I been sensible of my insufliciency, I should not have undertaken it. But now I rejoice in that I think I have done more good towards men's eternal happiness than I should have done in any other calling. I do most heartily thank the Venerable Society for their liberal support, and beg that they will accept of this, which is, I believe, my last bill, which, according to former custom, is due. JOHN BEACH. 85 "At this age, I cannot well hope for it, but I pray God I may have an opportunity to explain myself with safety ; but must conclude now with Job's expression — ' Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye my friends.'" Mr. Beach died six months after this, fairly worn out with labour. His death is thus spoken of by the Kev. (afterwards Dr.) Bela Hubbard, of New Haven: — "We have to lament the loss of the great and good Mr. John Beach, who, for half a century, hath been a most worthy and dutiful Missionary from the Society, at Newtown and Heading, where he deceased on the 19th of March, 1782, in the eighty-second year of his age." The following is a list of Mr. Beach's publications : — Appeal to the Unprejudiced : In a Supplement to the Vindication of the Worship of God, according to the Church of England, 1737. A Sermon on the Duty of Loving our Enemies, 1738. A Sermon delivered at Newport, R. I., on Rom. vi. 23, 1745. G-od's Sovereignty and his Universal Love to the Souls of Men reconciled, in reply to J. Dickinson, 1747. Second Vindi- cation of G-od's Sovereign Free Grace indeed : In a Fair and Candid Examination of the last Discourse of the late Mr. Dickinson, entitled "A second Vindication of God's Sovereign Free Grace," 1748. A Calm and Dispassionate Vindication of the Professors of the Church of England against the Abusive Misrepresentations and Fallacious Argumentations of Mr. Noah Hobart in his Address, 1749. Continuation of the same, 1751. An Inquiry into the state of the Dead, 1755. A Sermon at New Haven before the Clergy of the Church of England, at their Annual Convention, 1760. A Sermon on the Inquiry of the Young Man in the Gospel. A Sermon on the Death of Dr. Samuel Johnson, 1772. WILLIAM BROGDEN. 1735—1770. FROM THE KEV. ETHAN ALLEN, D.D. Baltimore, December 17, 1857. My dear Doctor Sprague :— The notice of Mr. Brogden, which I am about to give you, I have gathered from his own papers, from the Records of the parish where he ministered, and from some of his descendants. It shows certainly what some of the Clergy of the Colony of Maryland were in his days, and that God did then, as always, vouchsafe to the world some witnesses for Himself and his truth in the Church. William Brogben was the son of a gentleman of the same name, who, as I learn from papers that have lately eome into my possession, lived in Calvert County, Md., on the Patuxent River, and was a merchant and a large shipper of tobacco. He died in 1785, the very year of his son's admission to Holy Orders. Of this son the first authentic notice which we have is found in his Letters of Deacon's Orders, which were placed in my hands by his grandson. Dr. William Brogden. This document shows that he was ordained by the Bt. Rev. Edmund Gibson, Lord Bishop of London 86 EPISCOPALIAN. on Wednesday the 6th of August, 1735, in the Chapel Koyal at Whitehall, Westminster, in the County of Middlesex. How soon after his admission to Holy Orders Mr. Brogden came over to Maryland, I have not been able to ascertain ; but very early thereafter we find him the incumbent of All Hallow's Parish in Arundel County. Ho was successor in this parish to the Kev. Joseph Colbatch, who, hav- ing been ordained by the Kt. Rev. Henry Compton, Lord Bishop of Lon- don, July 4, 1694, came over to the Colony, and immediately took charge of this parish, and continued in it till his death, which took place in January, 1734, having been Rector of it nearly forty years. Mr. Colbatch was a clergyman of a very high character. A few years before his death, as we learn from Dr. Hawks, the Bishop of London wrote to him, inviting him to England, that he might there be consecrated to the Episcopate, and then return to Maryland as his Lordship's Suffragan in the Province. He was not, however, permitted to leave. Such was the opposition then to a resi- dent Bishop in the Colony, that the Grovernment issued a writ of ne exeat, and his departure was thus prohibited. And this, be it remembered, was done by a Protestant Government of the Established Church of England in the Province. After having become the Rector of All Hallow's, Mr. Brogden was mar- ried to Mrs. Haddock, of Prince George County ; but she did not live long, and he was then married, December 14, 1741, to Miss Elizabeth Chapman. In the following year, he purchased a beautiful farm, of twelve hundred acres, some twelve miles Southwest from Annapolis, the seat of Government. That farm is still in possession of his grandsons. And the house which he built on it, and in which he lived, while Rector of the parish, is still standing. It is of wood, and forms an appendage to the residence of Dr. Brogden. It is a hallowed spot. There, near by that study, is still to be seen the famous old oak, which Mr. Brogden, soon after he had settled here, sent to England for, and which is said to have been raised from an acorn from the tree at Boscobel, in which King Charles II. was hidden, after the battle of Worcester, in September, 1651 ; and truly it is worthy of its high descent. There too is still seen a likeness of Mr. Brogden, hanging on the wall. It is an inter- esting memorial, and quite icharacteristic. He is taken in a dressing gown, with books and mathematical instruments around him. There are still in existence two volumes in his own handwriting. One of these is now before me — it consists of about two quires of letter paper, folded in octavo form, written evidently in his younger years, in his beautiful and compact manner. The first part of it is " Epistola Clericana contra Dodwell, defensiones 1, 2, 3, arid 4, ezcerp^a," occupying nearly one half of the volume. Then " Some Reflections on that part of a Book called Amyntor, or the Defence of Milton's Life, which relates to the Primitive Fathers, and the Canon of the New Testament, by Mr. T." This indeed is not of great length. The rest of the volume contains " Rohinsonii Tkeosis Medi- cina et Merborum Abbreviata." Though much decayed it shows the direction of his studies, and is a monument of his patient industry. It is in truth a beautiful exemplification of the motto on the old parchment coat of arms which he brought over with him, — " labcyr ipse voluptas." ■WILLIAM BROGDEN. g^ The other manuscript volume to which I referred, was doubtless written while he was Kector of All Hallow's. It is not only an admirable speci- men of penmanship, and of his untiring industry, but seems also to illustrate the character of his piety. It is a blank book, in the small octavo form, into which he copied the Prayers of the Book of Common Prayer, and others, with selections from the Psalms in metre, after the manner of those now in use in our American Common Prayer Book, with the Music set to them, and also a number of Hymns. It was evidently his pocket companion in his pastoral work, and reveals to us something of the spirit with which he engaged in it. It shows clearly his reverence for our admirable Book of Prayer. In 1751, Mr. Brogden became the Kector of Queen Anne's Parish, Prince George's County — the parish immediately adjoining All Hallow's on the West. Here he succeeded the Rev. Jacob Henderson, who had been the Rector there for more than forty years. On the 5th of November, 1754, the Anniversary of the Deliverance from the Gunpowder Plot, for which there is a special service provided in the English Prayer Book, he preached a Sermon which was published in a small quarto pamphlet of forty-seven pages, under the following title : — ■ " Popish Zeal inconvenient to Mankind, and unsuitable to the Laws of Christ — A Sermon preached in St. Barnabas Church, Queen Anne Parish, on the 5th of November, 1754, by William Brogden, Rector of the said Parish, in Prince George's County." In a letter prefixed to it, addressed to the Vestry, and other inhabitants of the parish, he says, — " I have the charity to believe that many of their Church would abhor Popery, could they persuade themselves that it espoused and practised the horrid things we are able to prove against it. Popery is always the same — always bent upon amassing wealth and power, upon ruling men's consciences, sense, and reason, and upon extirpating all that oppose its errors. But where it wants power to put these schemes in practice, it has the policy to truckle to the times, and stoops to wear a disguise. And this is the reason that, in Protestant countries, it is never shown in its true colours to Protestants — and perhaps to but few Papists themselves." The Discourse shows Mr. Brogden to have been not only a man of piety, and an independent and unflinching spirit, but also to have been a well read historian, a fine clas- sical scholar, and conversant with the French language. Mr. Brogden continued in his parish in St. George's County till his death, which took place in the year 1770, — (the same year in which his friend Cradock, of Baltimore County, died,) having served in the ministry of his Divine Master, thirty-five years. That he was one of the lights of the Church of Maryland cannot reasonably be doubted. His talents were of a high order, and his learning, theological, classical and general, was extensive. He left behind him, it is said, a very valuable library, most of which was presented, by the present resident in the old parsonage, to Bishop Johns, of Virginia, whose estate is near Mr. Brogden's. But there is a valuable remnant still. None of his manuscripts, however, are now known to be in existence, except the volumes to which I have referred. But these which remain make us regret that the others are lost. 38 EPISCOPALIAN. At his death he left two daughters, one of whom was married, — and four sons — the eldest of whom inherited his estate in Ann Arundel County ; whose sons,— Dr. William Brogden, and D. McCullough Brogden Esq., still reside there. His eldest son, Major William Brogden, died in 1824, at the age of eighty-three. In the Kevolution, Major Brogden was found on the side of the liberty of his country, whose service he entered, as Captain of a volunteer com- pany. But he did not abandon the Church of his fathers. He was a mem- ber of the Diocesan Convention a number of times, and was one of those who signed the ratification of the Constitution and Canons of the Diocese, upon its final organization. And thus we have an instance, — and by no means a solitary one,— of an ante-revolutionary clergyman, whose descen- dants were found steadfast to their Country and their Church, in the day of their peril. I am, my dear Sir, Very sincerely Yours, ETHAN ALLEN. RICHARD PETERS, D. D.* 1735—1776. Richard Peters was of a very respectable family in Liverpool, Eng- land, was highly educated in his native country, and came to Philadelphia, as a clergyman of the Church of England, about the year 1735. From November, 1735 to May, 1736, he was employed, by request of the Rev. Archibald Cummings,t Rector of Christ Church in Philadelphia, to assist him in preaching and reading prayers. In August following, the Vestry of the Church addressed a letter to the Lord Bishop of Loudon, in favour of Mr. Peters, requesting that he would "grant him Letters of License, to exercise his function in order to be an Assistant to the Rev. Mr. Cum- mings." This application was granted ; but, unfortunately, after Mr. Peters had officiated as an Assistant for a few months, a serious misunder- standing arose between him and the Rector, in consequence of which he tendered his resignation. On the 28th of July, 1737, the Vestry had a meeting, and agreed, in view of their peculiar circumstances, to send an Address to the Bishop of London. The following extract from the Address shows that they held Mr. Peters in high esteem, and that they sympathized with him in the difference that had arisen between him and the Rector : — • Dorr's Hist. Christ Ch. — Memoir of Bishop White. — ^Various Original Letters. t Archibald Chmmingb, on the 9th of September, 1726, laid before the Vestry of Christ Ohnroh a license from the Bishop of London, appointing him Minister of said Church, and was aooordingly received. In the Minutes of a meeting of the Vestry, April 9, 1730, he is, for the first time, styled Rector, — the title having never been applied to any of his predecessors. He died in April, 1741, after a generally peaceful and acceptable ministry of fourteen years and seven months. The Church Uegister which he kept, and which is still in existence, shows that his labours must have been very arduous. He was married, on the 8th of April, 1728, to Jane Elizabeth Asshetoo. RICHARD PETERS. gQ " Although this gentleman, for reasons which we humbly heg leave to say appear to us to be just, has thought fit to decline continuing to give his assistance, yet we shall, upon all occasions, endeavour to testify that sense we have of the great regard your Lordship has shown to this church and congregation, in that appointment. " And we humbly beg leave to say that though your appointment of Mr. Peters has not pleased some few among us, yet it is true that, during the time he has exercised his ministerial function in this city, he has given great satisfaction in general to our congregation, and has been of real service to the Church of England; to which, by his conduct, both in the pulpit and out of it, he has drawn great numbers of the more understanding Dissenters of all persuasions. And as we are all assured that it is a I)leasure to your Lordship, at all times, to hear of the prosperity of the Church of England, and especially of that part of it more especially under your Lordship's care, at the same time we hope your Lordship will pardon our taking the liberty in expres- sing our duty and gratitude to your Lordship for the care of this church, and in doing justice to the Rev. Mr. Peters, who, we humbly beg leave to say is truly deserving of the favour conferred upon him by your Lordship, in allowing him to be Assistant to the Minister of this church." Mr. Peters continued to reside in Philadelphia, after the resignation of his place as Assistant to the Kector, and had an important agency in man- aging the concerns of the church. He also accepted from the Proprietary Government the Secretariship of the Land office, and was Secretary to a succession of Governors ; and continued to be of the Governor's Council until his decease. When St. Peter's Church was completed, the Kector, Rev. Dr. Jenny, applied to him to preach the Opening Sermon, on the ground that it was a compliment due to him, not only in regard to his abilities, but also in con- sideration of the many important services he had rendered to the church. His engagements, however, obliged him to decline the invitation, and the service was performed by the Rev. Dr. William Smith. In June, 1762, the Rev. Mr. Duche, one of the ministers of the United Churches, being about to embark for England, with a view to receiving Priest's Orders, the Vestry unanimously requested Mr. Peters to occupy his place during his absence. He did occupy it to the great satisfaction of the churches. On Mr. Duche's return, the Vestry addressed a letter to Mr. Peters, dated December 6, 1762, testifying their high gratification in having been thus favoured with his services, and at the same time inform- ing him that he had been unanimously chosen their Rector. The election was cordially approved by the two Assistant Ministers, who united with the Vestry in their application to the Bishop of London to license Mr. Peters to officiate as Rector of the United Churches. Mr. Peters accepted the appointment, and immediately entered on the duties of his office. The Vestry, in their letter to the Bishop of London, praying for his approbation of their choice, humbly requested that he would dispense with the formality of Mr. Peters' waiting upon him in person, and would signify his approval by a letter addressed to Mr. Peters himself. In OctobeJ^, 1763, a letter was received from the Bishop of London, approving of Mr. Peters' appointment as Rector, on condition, however, that he should embrace the first convenient opportunity of coming to England, and having the license granted to him in due form. In conformity with this requirement, as well as with a view to give him- self the relaxation which his enfeebled health required, he announced to his Vestry, in June, 1764, his purpose of going to England, and his wish that the Rev. Dr. Smith should officiate for him occasionally during his absence. The Vestry readily assented to his wish, and shortly after sent him a letter Vol. V. 12 90 EPISCOPALIAN. testifying their high appreciation of his character and services, and their earnest prayers that he might be restored in health to the exercise of his ministry among them ; to which he responded in a tone that indicated a warm attachment to them, and a deep interest in their moral and spiritual welfare. He reached England about the close of summer, and remained there, travelling in various directions, and visiting his friends, somewhat more than a year. On his return to Philadelphia, at the close of 1765, the Vestry went, in a body, to the parsonage house, to welcome him back, and offer, him their cordial congratulations. The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by the Uni- versity of Oxford, near the close of 1770. In 1772, Dr. Peters urged upon the Vestry the necessity of having two Assistant Ministers appointed, and recommended the appointment of Mr. Thomas Coombe, and Mr. (afterwards Bishop) William White. After some consultation with them, they were, accordingly, appointed on the 30th of November. In June, 1775, the Continental Congress having recommended the 20th of July following as a day of general Easting, Humiliation, and Prayer, through all the American Colonies, Dr. Peters convened his Vestry with a view to consult them in respect to the course which he should himself pur- sue. The Vestry promptly advised him to comply with the recommenda- tion, and assured him that a refusal would give great offence to his congre- gations ; and he, accordingly, told them that the churches should be opened on that day for appropriate services, and that notices to that effect should be given on the succeeding Sunday. This arrangement was carried oat, and a highly patriotic sermon preached in Christ Church, before the mem- bers of Congress, by the Rev. Mr. Duche. On the 22d of September following. Dr. Peters, in consequence of bodily infirmities, resigned his Rectorship of the United Churches, after having held the office thirteen years. On accepting his resignation, the Wardens ^nd Vestrymen testified their grateful appreciation of his charac- ter and services, and their good wishes for his happiness, in the following address : — " Rev. Sir: — Permit the Church -wardens and Yestrymen of the united Episcopal Churches of Christ Church and St. Peters, in the city of Philadelphia, in Vestry met, to take leave of you in the most affectionate manner, and to assure you, with great sincerity, that we shall ever recollect with pleasure the happy union and peace that pre- vailed in the congregation, during your Rectorship. We thank you, Sir, for the pious zeal you have ever exercised in your ministry to these churches, and gratefully acknow- ledge your distinguished liberality to them upon all occasions. We very much regret your loss of health, which induces you to resign your office as Rector, and take the liberty to assure you that our warmest wishes for your health and happiness will ever attend you. To this the Doctor replied in a brief address, thanking them " for the affectionate manner in which they were pleased to take leave of him," and assuring them " that he should retain as kind and as cordial a love for, and regard to, them as if he was still their Rector ; and should be glad of every opportunity to show the reality of his affection for them." On the Sunday following, he took leave of the two congregations, still intending, however, to remain among them, as he actually did, during the residue of his life. RICHARD PETERS. 91 Dr. Peters' health, after the resignation of his charge, gradually declined until the 10th of July, 1776, when he died at the age of seventy-two years. The Rev. Dr. Dorr, in his Historical Account of Christ Church, says that Dr. Peters " was a gentleman of fortune, and a most liberal benefactor of the Church." I have had an opportunity of reading a number of his let- ters in manuscript, from which I should infer that he was a man, not only of high intelligence, but of a genial and kindly spirit. Bishop White says, — "Although I shall always remember those two gentlemen" (Dr. Peters and Mr. Duchfi) " with respect and affection, on account of their merits and of their kindness to me; yet there was in each of them a singularity of religious character, which lessened the profit of an intercourse with them." Afterwards, speaking of Dr. Peters, he says, — '■ The singularity alluded to, was his adopting of the notions of Jacob Behmen and TVilliam Law; in consequence of which his sermons were not always understood. In social discourse, he could be exceedingly entertaining on any ordinary, and on any literary, subject, especially if it regarded classical or historical learning. Yet, from the moment of turning the conversation to religion, he was in the clouds." HENRY BARCLAY, D. D * 1737--1764. Henry Baeolay was the son of the Rev. Thomas Barclay, Missionary at Albany under the Venerable Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts. He (the father) was Chaplain at Fort Hunter in Albany, in 1708, and read service, and preached to the citizens, in Dutch. He officiated also at Schenectady, once a month, and often for the Indians, twenty-four miles beyond Schenectady, until November, 1712, when the Rev. William Andrews,! came out as a Missionary from the Venerable • Berrian's Hist. Trin. Ch., N. T.— Hawkins' Miss. Ch. Eng.— Doo. Hist. N. Y., III., IV. 6 . . t Rev. William Andrews came out as successor to the Kev. Thoroughgood Moore, in the Mission to the Mohawks. Little is known of him, except that, at a meetiug of the Commis- sioners of the Indian Affairs, held in Albany, the Sachems received and welcomed him with great formality and respect ; that a difference soon arose between him and Mr. Barclay, the latter being charged with aspiring to be Andrews' Bishop; and that his Mission proving unsuccessful, he abandoned it in 1719. There was another Episcopal clergyman by the name of William Andrews, who lived at a later period. He was a native of Ireland; and, after having been some time in this country, he returned home in 1770, when he was ordained by the Bishop of London, and appointed, by the Venerable Society, Missionary at Schenectady, where some of his relatives, it seems, already resided. Having married, in the mean time, he entered on his charge immediately after receiving Orders, to the satisfaction of his congregation. He opened a Grammar School in the fall of 1771, but the labours attendant on this, with ill health and other causes, led him, in 1773, to relinquish this Mission, and migrate to Virginia. He resided, for some time, at Williamsburg ; but learning that the Mission at Johnstown had become vacant, he applied to Sir William Johnson for that church. I find no evidence, however, of his return to the valley of the Mohawk. Rev. Thorodsbqood Moobi:, above mentioned, arrived at New York, in 1704, and pro- ceeded thence to Albany, as Missionary to the Mohawks. Owing to the influence of the fur traders, his labours among them proved fruitless, in consequence of which he returned to New York. He went next to Burlington, N. J., where he was greatly scandalized at the conduct of Lord Cornbury and his Lieutenant Oovemor, and actually refused to admit the latter to the Lord's Supper, for thishe was imprisoned; but he contrived to make his escape, and embark for England. The ship in which he was a passenger foundered at sea, and he, with all on board, perished. 92 EPISCOPALIAN. Society to tie Mohawks. His congregation in Albany met, for seven years, in a small Lutheran Chapel ; when, by the advice and assistance of Governor Hunter, they undertook to erect a church edifice for them- selves. In due time, they accomplished their object, and a fine stone building was opened for Divine service in November, 1716, — ^just four years from the time of the projection of the enterprise. Mr. Barclay was the first Kector of St. Peter's Church in Albany, and was succeeded, in 1728, by the Kev. John Miln. After leaving Albany, he was, for some time, Assistant to the Kev. Mr. Vesey, Eector of Trinity Church, New York. ' Henry Barclay was born about the year 1714 or 1715. He was gradua- ted at Yale College in 1734. The next year, he was appointed, on Mr. Miln's recommendation, catechist to the Mohawks, at Fort Hunter. On his first arrival among them, he found them apparently docile and atten- tive, and thought the prospect of their being converted to Christianity altogether encouraging. In 1737, Mr. Miln having been, at his own request, transferred to the Mission of Monmouth County, N. J., Mr. Barclay went, with high recom- mendations, to England, to obtain ordination as Deacon and Priest. His object having been accomplished, he returned immediately to this country, and was gratefully welcomed by those to whom he had been accustomed to minister, especially by his Indian hearers, many of whom are said to have shed tears of joy. He now succeeded Mr. Miln, as Bector of St. Peter's. In addition to his services on Sunday, he catechised the Indians in the evenings, when, from thirty to fifty adults would be present. On occasion of the gathering of the Six Nations to renew their league of friendship with the English, he preached to large numbers of them, and had the pleas- ure of hearing the Mohawks make their responses regularly in the Ser- vice. He was also frequently called to preach to the Dutch in their own language. In 1741, Mr. Barclay informed the Venerable Society that his congre- gation at Albany consisted of an hundred and eighty English, besides two independent companies ; and in the Mohawk country, of five hundred Indians, settled in two towns, at thirty miles distance from Albany ; — that he had sixty English, and fifty-eight Indian, communicants ; and that the vice of intemperance among the Indians was greatly on the decrease. In 1743, his statement was that two or three only of the whole tribe remained unbap- tized, and that, with the consent of the Governor, he had appointed two Mohawk schoolmasters to teach the young Mohawks, and that they were both very diligent and successful. Mr. Barclay continued to prosecute his Mission with great zeal and success, till the latter part of the year 1745, when his work was rudely checked, first by the intrigues, and afterwards by the hostile invasion, of the French Indians. After the death of the Rev. Mr. Vesey, first Rector of Trinity Church, New York, which occurred in 1746, Mr. Barclay was elected his successor ; and, as his prospects of usefulness among the Indians were now exceedingly dubious, if not absolutely hopeless, it took him but little time to arrive at the conclusion that the indications of Providence were in favour of his accepting the invitation from New York. Accord- HENBT BARCLAY. 93 ingly, he was duly inducted into the Rectorship, on the 22d of Octo- ber following. The Society for the Propagation of the Grospel highly approved of Mr. Barclay's being appointed to the office of Eector, and of his acceptance of it, and requested that he would dispose of what- ever funds remained in his hands for the service of the Mohawk tribe, as his judgment might direct. They also signified their earnest desire that he would continue to render as much attention to the Indians as might consist with the duties he owed to his immediate charge, and also that he would endeavour to find some suitable person to be appointed their Mis- sionary, as soon as it might be deemed safe to attempt a residence among them. To this proposal he gave a cordial assent ; but intimated, at the same time, that he had little hope of accomplishing anything for the bene- fit of the Indians, at least during the continuance of the war. In the year 1747, the Rev. Mr. Charlton, who had been a Catechist, and an Assistant to Mr. Barclay in Trinity Church, was transferred to the Church of St. Andrew, on Staten Island ; and the Rev. Samuel Auch- muty succeeded in his place. At the close of 1753, Dr. Samuel Johnson, of Stratford, Conn., was called as a Lecturer in Trinity Church ; and he commenced his labours there about the time that he entered upon his duties as President of King's College. He officiated in turn with the Rector and Assistant, but without having any other parochial charge. In 1760, Mr. Barclay received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the University of Oxford. In 1762, Dr. Barclay was induced, at the suggestion of Sir William Johnson, to undertake the superintendence of a new edition of the Indian Prayer Book. He seems to have devoted much time to the enterprise, but his knowledge of the Indian language was not sufficiently minute to enable him to proceed in it with much facility. He was interrupted in his work, at no distant period, by declining health, and it was in an unfinished state at the time of his death. Dr. Barclay died on the 20th of August, 1764. In a note to a Funeral Sermon of the Rev. Mr. Inglis on Dr. Auehmuty, is the following honourable mention of Dr. Barclay : "As in his arduous mission at Albany and among tlie Mohawk Indians, he had distinguished himself by his zeal and indefatigable labours, so, when chosen Rector of Trinity Church, the same assiduous attention to the duties of bis office, the sarao ardour in promoting religion as formerly, marked every step of his conduct. His character was truly respectable, his disposition most amiable and engaging. Meek, afiFable, sweet tempered and devout, his life was exemplary, whilst he cherished the warmest spirit of benevolence and charity. During his incumbency, the congregation greatly increased." 94 EPISCOPALIAN. GEORGE WHITEFIELD * 1738—1770. George Whitefield was born at Gloucester, England, December 16, (0. S.,) 1714. His father, wbo was first a wine-mereliant, and afterwards an inn-keeper, died when this (his youngest) son was only two years old ; in consequence of which, his earliest education devolved entirely upon his mother. His wonderful powers of oratory began to display themselves at a very early age ; though his thoughts seem never to have been directed towards the ministry till he was about seventeen. ■ He had also, while he was quite young, been the subject of some religious impressions ; but his prevailing inclinations were decidedly opposed to religion, and he was at one time in great danger of being ruined through the influence of evil companions. It pleased God, however, to recover him from the snare, to revive the impressions which he had striven to efface, and to render him an earnest and diligent inquirer in respect to the salvation of his soul. At the age of seventeen, he received the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, and from that time manifested a deep interest in religious things, and great watchfulness and concern in regard to his spiritual condition. Having enjoyed, for several years, the benefit of a public school in his native town, in which he became a proficient especially in the Latin clas- sics, he was sent, at the age of eighteen, to the University of Oxford. The state of religion, not only in the University, but in the country at large, was now exceedingly low ; insomuch that even a belief in Christianity was very commonly regarded as evidence of an unphilosophical, if not an imbe- cile, mind. The sect of Methodists, however, had just arisen at Oxford, with the two Wesleys at its head, and Whitefield, at the expense of no small degree of odium from his fellow students, mingled freely with this new sect, and was recognised as one of them ; but he gradually became more rigid in his austerities than any with whom he was associated, and he even imagined that it was his duty to shut himself up in his study till he had so far perfected the work of self-mortification that he could rise above the influence of all unhallowed motives. To such an extreme did he carry his abstemious habit, that he became sickly and emaciated, and was appa- rently drawing rapidly near to the grave ; but by medical aid his health was soon restored, and with it a sounder state of mind, and a more consist- ent and rational course of conduct. From this period, his grand aim seemed to be to do good to his fellow creatures ; and he not only availed himself of every opportunity of religious conversation with those who were his daily associates, but he devoted much of his leisure to visiting among the poor, and especially to reading and praying with the prisoners in the County jail. At the age of about twenty-one, the Bishop of Gloucester, Dr. Benson, sent for him, and told him that though he had intended to ordain none under three-and-twenty, yet he should consider it his duty to ordain him * Gilllw' Life of Whitefield.— Middleton's Biographia Evangolica. — Parsons' and Pember- ton's Sennons on his death. GEORGE WHITEFIELD. 95 whenever lie might apply. Accordingly, by the earnest persuasion of his friends, having carefully studied the Thirty-Nine Articles, and become satis- fied that he could conscientiously consent to them, and made other prepara- tion for the service, of a more spiritual kind, he was ordained at Grlouces- ter, June 20, 1736 ; and immediately after returned to Oxford, with the intention to continue his studies a while longer, in connection with the exer- cise of the ministerial office. Shortly after this, he thought it his duty to accept of an invitation to officiate at the Chapel of the Tower of London ; and, accordingly, he spent two months there, preaching, catechising, and visiting the soldiers. His preaching produced a great sensation, and those who were inclined at first to sneer at his youthful appearance, were soon rapt in admiration of his wonderful powers. Meanwhile, the communications which had been received from the Wesleys, in regard to the great destitution of religious privileges in Georgia, awakened in him the desire, and finally led to the purpose, of coming on a sort of missionary tour to this country. The Bishop of Lon- don and the Archbishop of Canterbury both approved of his determination ; and, accordingly, after having made the necessary preparations for his voy- age, he embarked for Georgia, toward the close of December, 1737. Pre- vious to this, he had preached in many of the larger towns in England, with unprecedented popularity, though not without considerable opposition. Immediately on commencing his voyage, he found himself in circum- stances most unfavourable to religious enjoyment, being surrounded by a set of dissolute soldiers and sailors, who scrupled not to utter their blas- phemies in his presence, and even to hint to him their suspicion that he was an impostor. But, by his great prudence, he succeeded in overcoming their prejudices, and winning their confidence ; and long before they were at the end of their voyage, he was at liberty to preach the Gospel as often as he desired, and had the pleasure of seeing a large number, among whom was the Captain of the ship, who had before been a scoffing infidel, giving evidence of having abandoned their evil habits, and become the humble fol- lowers of the Lord Jesus. The effect of his ministrations was not a little assisted by the breaking out of an alarming disease on board the ship, which not only furnished occasion for his friendly and benevolent offices, but disposed the minds of those around him to greater seriousness, and ren- dered more welcome the voice both of consolation and of instruction. Shortly after he landed at Savannah, he was seized with a violent fit of fever and ague, which, for some little time, confined him ; and when he had gathered strength to look about upon his new field of labour, he found every thing bore the aspect of an infant colony ; and what was still more discouraging, he saw, or thought he saw, that there were some features in its constitution, which must be changed before any essential progress could be realized. He became, at an early period after his arrival, deeply impressed with the importance of establishing an Orphan House in that region, somewhat upon the principle of that founded by the celebrated Francke at Halle ; and he had soon so far matured this project that he was ready to set about the accomplishment of it. Having laboured between three and four months in Georgia, he went, about the middle of August, to Charlestown, S. C, where he spent a single 96 EPISCOPALIAN. Sabbath, preaching with wonderful acceptance to an immense congregation, and then embarked for London, with a view to accomplish the double object of obtaining Priest's Orders, and laying the foundation of his Orphan House. After a most uncomfortable and perilous voyage of nine weeks, he found himself again in the great Metropolis, but he soon perceived a change in some who had been the friends and patrons of his enterprise. The Arch- bishop of Canterbury, and the Bishop of London particularly, met him ' with only cold civility ; and he quickly ascertained that the change had been occasioned by his journals, which they regarded as not a little tinc- tured with enthusiasm. The Trustees of the Colony of Georgia, however, received him with great cordiality, and were pleased not only to express their satisfaction with the accounts concerning him which had reached them during his stay in the Colony, but also to present him to the living of Savannah, with five hundred acres of land upon which to erect an Orphan House. Notwithstanding many of the pulpits, in and about London, were closed against him, there were enough that were open ; and he preached constantly to overflowing congregations, and with surprising effect. In January, 1739, he went to Oxford, and received Priest's Orders from his ever faithful friend. Bishop Benson ; and, immediately after, returned to London, with a view to make collections in the different churches in behalf of his Orphan House. But by this time the prejudice against him had become so strong, on the ground of his alleged fanatical irregularities, that the ministers of the Establishment, with very few exceptions, refused him their countenance. He went shortly after to Bristol, where he met with scarcely a better reception ; but he had here the most wonderful success in preaching in the open air to the colliers. His congrega- tion continued to increase till it was supposed to amount to nearly twenty thousand. " The first discovery of their being affected," he says, " was to see the white gutters made by their tears, which plentifully fell down their black cheeks, as they came out of their coal pits. Hundreds and hundreds of them were soon brought under deep conviction, which, as the event proved, happily ended in a sound and thorough conversion." After having made a short tour in Wales, and some parts of England, he returned to London about the beginning of May ; and, by request of the stated clergyman, attempted to preach at Islington Church ; but, in the midst of the service, the Church-warden came and demanded his license, or otherwise forbade his preaching in the pulpit. The consequence was that he left the church with his congregation, and preached in the church- yard. From this time his preaching was generally in the open air ; and on the succeeding Sabbath, he ventured into Moorfields, a very public place in London, where, though he had been warned that it would be at the peril of his life that he should go, he preached to an immense multitude without any serious molestation. Here, and at some other places in the neighbour- hood, he continued to preach daily, for several months, his common audito- ries, at a moderate computation, consisting of more than twenty thousand, while, at the same time, he was constantly receiving liberal collections for his Orphan House. In August, 1739, he sailed the second time for Ameriea, and, after a passage of nine weeks, arrived at Philadelphia, in the early part of GEORGE WHITEFIELD. 97 November. He was then invited to preach in the Episcopal churches, and was listened to by immense congregations, consisting of persons from every denomination; but, on visiting New York shortly after, he found the Episcopal church there closed against him, in consequence of which he preached two or three times a day, for more than a week, in the fields, and in the Kev. Mr. Pemberton's f Presbyterian) church, to vast assemblages, and apparently with great effect. From New York he travelled South by land to Savannah, stopping at various places, especially in New Jersey, where he had great pleasure in making the acquaintance of Mr. (afterwards President) Dickinson, and the Tennents. Wherever he preached, — and he preached at nearly every stop- ping place, — the most earnest attention was awakened, and in many cases extensive revivals of religion ensued. Previous to his arrival in Savannah, his friend, Mr. Habersham, had selected a lot for the Orphan House, of five hundred acres, about ten miles from the city ; and on the 25th day of the succeeding March, (1740,) Mr. Whitefield, with his own hand, laid the first brick of the great house, which he called Bethesda, — i. e., a house of mercy. By this time, nearly forty children were taken in to be provided with food and raiment ; and a house had been hired for their accommodation, until that which was in the progress of building should be ready to receive them. In August of this year, (1740,) Mr. Whitefield, in compliance with the urgent invitations of some of the most distinguished ministers of Boston, such as Dr. Colman, Mr. Cooper, &c., made a tour into New England. When he was within a few miles of Boston, on his way thither, he was met by some of the leading inhabitants of the town, among whom was the son of Governor Belcher, who had come out to welcome his arrival, and to assure him of the general interest that prevailed in respect to his visit. The Governor himself, with Secretary Willard, immediately waited upon him in person, and they ever afterwards showed themselves his cordial and devoted friends. Having ascertained that the Episcopal church was closed against him, he began immediately to preach in the different CongregationaL churches, and as these would accommodate but a small portion of those- who wished to attend, he quickly adjourned to the Common. From Boston,, he journeyed as far East as Portsmouth; thence as far North as North-- ampton, where he visited Jonathan Edwards ; preaching to vast congrega- tions in every important place that lay in his way. He then returned to- Savannah, taking New Haven and New York in his route, and reached the Orphan House on the 14th of December, having made very considerable^ collections, during his Northern tour, in aid of his benevolent establish- ment. At the commencement of the next year, (1741,) he made another passage across the Atlantic, and reached London about the middle of March. But here he found himself in much worse odour than he had been at any pre- ceding period. While he was travelling in this country, he had written, two very indiscreet letters, in one of which he declared that Archbishop ■ Tillotson knew no more of religion than Mohamed, and in the other, in, which he had attempted to reply to some of John Wesley's peculiarities,. he had used some too unqualified expressions concerning absolute Eepro*- VoL. V. 13 98 EPISCOPALIAN. bation ; the effect of which had been to alienate from him not a few whom he had regarded as his own spiritual children. Some of them treated him not only with coolness but absolute contempt ; and, as they passed by where he was preaching, actually stopped their ears that they might not even hear the sound of his voice. The prejudice against him, however, soon began to yield, and he was preaching again, in different parts of the country, with the same wonderful effect which had formerly attended his ministrations. About this time, he received frequent and earnest invitations from cler- gymen of different denominations to visit Scotland ; and especially from the celebrated Ebenezer and Ealph Erskine. But, on his arrival there, he found that before they could extend to him the hand of fellowship, they had a duty to perform in setting him right on the subject of Church-govern- ment, and the Solemn League and Covenant. He distinctly stated to them that this was a matter with which he did not wish to trouble himself ; that his grand aim was to save the souls of men ; and that he was ready to preach the doctrine of a free salvation wherever he could find persons to listen to it. But, notwithstanding this embarrassment, he preached in various parts of Scotland, to immense and deeply impressed and delighted auditories, and collected, during his tour, not less than five hundred pounds in money and goods for the benefit of his orphans. In October of this year, he returned to England, and shortly after, was married in Wales to a Mrs. James, a widow, between thirty and forty years of age ; of whom, he says in one of his letters, — " She has been a house- keeper many years, once gay, but for three years last past, a despised fol- lower of the Lamb of God." Having preached, for some time, with great effect, both at Bristol and London, he resolved upon the somewhat hazardous experiment of attempting to carry the Gospel among the multitudes of the lower classes, who assembled, during the holidays, to witness all sorts of vulgar exhibitions. At six o'clock in the morning, he took his stand in the field, at a convenient place, and commenced preaching ; and being encour- aged by the earnest attention and deep feeling manifested by his audience, he ventured to return at noon, and again at evening ; and though a most powerful opposition was excited, insomuch that his life seemed in imminent danger, yet he was mercifully preserved, and had the pleasure of knowing that his labours on that day had been blessed to the awakening, and ulti- mately to the hopeful conversion, of many hundreds of persons. After leaving the field, he resorted, with an immense congregation, to the Taber- nacle, where he received, as he afterwards said, at a moderate computation, a thousand notes from persons under convtefrion. In giving an account of the exercises of that evening in a letter to a friend, he says, — " I cannot help adding that several little boys and girls who were fond of sitting around me on the pulpit, while I preached, and handing me people's notes, thongli they were often pelted with eggs, dirt, &c., thrown at me, never once gave way; but, on the contrary, every time I was struck, turned up their little weeping eyes, and seemed to wish they could receive the blows for me. God make them, in their growing years, gieat and living martyrs for Him, who out of the mouths of babes and suck- lings perfects praise." Early in the summer of 1742, Whitefield made a second visit to Scot- land. Many who had before looked at him with a suspicious eye, and some who had even assumed towards him an openly hostile attitude, now gave him GEORGE ■WHITEFIELD. 99 a cordial welcome, though there were still some, especially of the Seceders, who were shy of him, and even went so far as to observe a Fast on account of his reappearance in the country. Just before this, the memorable revi- val had commenced in Cambuslang, — one of the most remarkable revivals with which any portion of the Christian Church has ever been blessed ; and Whitefield, shortly after his arrival in the country, was, as might be ex- pected, attracted to this scene of Divine Wonders. The work extended from Cambuslang for many miles around ; and the whole community seemed completely absorbed in the one great concern. Whitefield's own account of it is as follows : — " Persons from all parts flocked to see, and many from many parts went home con- Tinced and converted unto God. A brae or hill, near the manse at Cambuslang, seemed to be formed by Providence for containing a large congregation. People sat unwearied till two in the morning to hear sermons, disregarding the weather. You could scarce walk a yard, but you must tread upon some, either rejoicing in God for mercies received, or crying out for more. Thousands and thousands I have seen, before it was possible to catch it by sympathy, melted down under the "Word and Power of God. At the celebration of the Holy Communion, their joy was so great that, at the desire of many, both ministers and people, in imitation of Hezekiah's pass- over, they had, a month or two afterwards, a second, which was a general rendezvous of the people of God. The Communion table was in the field; three tents at proper distances, all surrounded by a multitude of hearers; above twenty ministers (among whom was good old Mr. Bonnar) attending to preach and assist, all enlivening and enlivened by one another." After passing several months in Scotland, during which he was continu- ally occupied in preaching in different parts of the country, he received intelligence that the Spaniards had landed in Georgia. In a letter which he wrote to his friend, Mr. Habersham, immediately after, he says, — " I long to be with you, and methinks could willingly be found at the head of you, kneeling and praying, though a Spaniard's sword should be put to my throat." He had the satisfaction of hearing, after a short time, that the Spaniards were eflfectually repulsed, and that the evil which had been threatened was mercifully averted. In October of this year, he returned to England, where he remained nearly two years, preaching the Gospel to immense multitudes, and almost everywhere with great success. But wher- ever he went, he had to encounter violent opposition, which, in some cases, discovered itself in deliberate attempts, and even deeply laid plans, to take his life. Providence, however, always delivered him out of the hands of ' his enemies ; while the desperate hostility which was manifested towards him was not unfrequently overruled for the advancement of the cause upon which his heart was so earnestly set. In August, 1744, in an enfeebled state of health, occasioned, no doubt, by his excessive labours, he embarked a third time for America ; and, after a passage of eleven weeks, during which he says " we had a church in our ship," he landed at York, in Maine. Immediately after he arrived, he was taken seriously ill, so that his life was considered in jeopardy ; but, after a few days, he was so far restored as to be able to proceed on his journey towards Boston. But, on his arrival there, he found a less cordial wel- come, even from some of his former friends, than he had anticipated ; for the extravagances which had sprung up, in consequence of the fanaticism of Davenport and others, and to which no doubt he had himself con- tributed, had thrown a shade of suspicion over the general character of the work. J^OO EPISCOPALIAN. It was not long, however, before the current of public feeling began to flow towards Urn witb increased strength, and the facilities for his labours were proportionably multiplied. At the suggestion of some of his friends, he opened an expository lecture at six o'clock in the morning, and it was seldom that the number of his hearers on these occasions was less than two thousand. In a letter to a friend, written about this time, he says, — " It was delightful to see so many of both sexes, neatly dressed, flocking to hoar the word, and returning home to family prayers and breakfast, before the opposers were out of their beds. So it was commonly said, between early rising and tar-water, the physicians would have no business." In the spring of 1745, when the first expedition against Cape Breton was set on foot, under the command of Col. Pepperell, "Whitefleld was requested by one of the leaders in the enterprise to furnish a motto for a flag, to be carried on the occasion ; and, though he at first declined doing it, as being hardly in keeping with his character as a Christian minister, yet, upon being urged, he gave them this : — " Nil desperandum Christo duce." " If Christ be Captain, no fear of a defeat." This had a most auspicious effect upon the expedition ; for it led numbers to enlist who had before hesitated from conscientious considerations. And just before they embarked, having received a request from the officers that he would give them a sermon appropriate to their circumstances, he preached from these words, — "As many as were distressed, as many as were discon- tented, as many as were in debt, came to David, and he became a Captain over them." The sermon had a most inspiring effect, and it was only about six weeks afterwards that he was called to preach a Thanksgiving Sermon on the occasion of the surrender of Louisburg. The New England people, desirous of detaining Mr. Whitefield as a constant resident among them, proposed to build a large place of worship, where he might labour steadily ; but this proposal he declined, on the ground that the itinerating course to which he had already accustomed himself, would be likely to subserve, in a higher degree, the interests of Christ's Kingdom. He therefore moved on gradually towards the South, stopping at various points, particularly in New Jersey, where he had most refreshing interviews with Brainerd and Tennent ; and in Virginia, where he was surprised and delighted to find that the reading of some of his ser- mons preached in Scotland, and taken down in short hand and printed, had been the means of awakening the attention of a large number to their immortal interests. On his arrival in G-eorgia, he found that, through the bad management of the Trustees of his institution, a considerable debt had accumulated upon him, which occasioned him some temporary embarrass- ment. Not long after this, he came as far North as New York, when his health was so much impaired that he resolved, in compliance with medical advice, to visit the Bermuda Islands ; and he, accordingly, embarked, and arrived there in March, 1748. On his arrival in Bermuda, he was met with the greatest kindness, and very soon found that a door was opened for his favourite work of preaching the Grospel. As the Island on which he resided was but a few miles long, he was accustomed to traverse it nearly every day, and to preach at several different places ; and he found the plain and simple habits of the people in GEORGE WHITEFIELD. ]^01 a high degree favourable to the legitimate effects of Grospel truth. The record of his labours, as "exhibited in his diary, during the three months that he continued here, shows that he could never, in any circumstances, forget, for an hour, the cause and honour of his Master ; and that even the object that more immediately carried him thither, — the recruiting of his bodily energies, was regarded by him as altogether subordinate to the business of preaching Christ, and winning souls. Having remained at the Islands till some time in June, and fearing to encounter the climate of Georgia during the warm season, he determined to sail for, England, and accordingly availed himself of an opportunity that just then occurred, and reached London on the 6th of July, 1748, after an absence of nearly four years. Shortly after his arrival in London, Lady Huntingdon sent him an earnest and respectful invitation to come to her house ; and after he had preached two or three times, she informed him that several of the Nobility were desirous of hearing him. The next time he preached, some of the most distinguished of them were among his hearers ; and he was quite surprised at the respectful and apparently reverent attention with which they listened to him. The Earl of Chesterfield thanked him, and said, — " Sir, I will not tell you what I shall tell others, how I approve of you ; " and even Lord Bolingbroke, who came to hear him, and who, he said, sat like an Archbishop, was pleased to say.to him, at the close of his discourse, that "he had done great justice to the Divine attributes." He continued to preach for some time at Lady Huntingdon's, — generally twice a week, and his preaching was attended with a manifest blessing. In September of this year, he made a third- visit to Scotland, where he was met in general with a most hearty welcome, though there were two or three Ecclesiastical Bodies, who put themselves into a somewhat hostile attitude towards him. During this visit, he rendered essential service to the College of New Jersey, then in its infancy, by drawing towards it the favour- able regards of many excellent people, and thus preparing the way for the application in its behalf, which was made two or three years afterwards, by Messrs. Tennent and Davies. On his return to England, his health was considerably impaired, and he preferred ranging about the country, to con- tinuing in London. He imagined that travelling and preaching were rather favourable than injurious to his health ; and in a letter to his friend, the Rev. Mr. Hervey, who was also a sufferer from bodily debility, he says, — "We are immortal till our work is done. Christ's labourers must live by mira- cle ; if not, I must not live at all ; for Grod only knows what I daily endure. My continual vomitings almost kill me, and yet the pulpit is my cure, so that my friends begin to pity me less, and to leave off that ungrateful caution, — ' Spare thyself.' I speak this to encourage you." In 1750, he visited Scotland again, and was received with still more warmth of affection than on any of his former visits. His desire to spend and be spent for his Master often carried him beyond his strength ; in relation to which he writes as follows : — " By preaching always twice, and once thrice, and once four times in a day, I am quite weakened ; but I hope to recruit again. I am burning with a fever, and have a violent cold, but Christ's presence makes me smile at pain, and the fire of his love 102 EPISCOPALIAN. burns up all fevers whatsoever." The succeeding winter (1750-51) he spent in London, where he was taken off from his labours, and confined to his room, for a considerable time, by a violent illness. After his recovery, he made another preaching tour through the West of England, and in the following May, he visited Ireland for the first time. Having remained in Ireland a few weeks, and excited great interest by his preaching, wherever he went, he passed over from Belfast to Scotland, and almost immediately returned to London, with a view to embark again for America. After a sorrowful parting with his friends in England, he sailed for Georgia, with a company of Germans, and arrived at Savannah about the close of October, when he was gratified to find his Orphan House in a prosperous condition. He divided his labours between Georgia and South Carolina, till the close of April, 1752, when, fearing that his health could not endure the heat of a Southern summer, he again took passage for London. Shortly after he landed in England, we find him on his way again, by a circuitous route, to Scotland, preaching every where with his usual power and effect. About this time he addressed a letter to Dr. Franklin, with whom he seemed to be on intimate terms, of which the following is an extract : — " I find you grow more and more famous in the learned world. As you have made a pretty considerable progress in the mysteries of electricity, I should now humbly recommend to your diligent unprejudiced study* the mystery of the new birth. It is a most important, interesting study, and, when mastered, will richly answer and repay you for all your pains. One, at whose bar we are shortly to appear, hath solemnly declared that without it we cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Tou will excuse this freedom; I must have aliquid Christi (something of Christ) in all my letters." On the 1st of March, 1753, he laid the foundation of the new Taber- nacle, (the house in which the celebrated Matthew Wilkes preached,) in London ; and preached on the occasion from Exodus xx. 24. On the 10th of June following, he had the pleasure to witness the completion of the building, and delivered his first sermon in it, from I. Kings, viii. 11. About the close of this year, his friend and fellow-labourer, the Kev. John Wesley, was supposed to be near the close of life, and Whitefield hastened to London "to pay his last respects to his dying friend." In writing to a friend concerning him, he says, — " The physician thinks his disease is galloping consumption. I pity the church, I pity myself, but not him. Poor Mr. Charles will now have double work. But we can do all things through Christ strengthening us." Wesley, however, soon began to recover, and was spared to the Church many years after White- field himself was called to his reward. The Kev. Messrs. Tennent and Davies who had been commissioned by the Synod of New York to visit Great Britain about this time, with a view to collect funds in aid of the College of New Jersey, met Mr. White- field in London, and found him ready to co-operate with them for the promotion of their object by every means in his power. By his kind suggestions, as well as his recommendatory letters, he rendered them the most important service; and it was probably to him as much as any other individual that they were indebted for the uncommon success by which their mission was crowned. GEORGE WHITEFIELD. JQg In the early part of the next year, (1754,) he made his fifth voyage to this country, bringing with him upwards of twenty destitute children, with a view to their finding a home in his Orphan House. He came by way of Lisbon, where he passed about three weeks, and was greatly affected by what he witnessed of the prevalence of Popery. He wrote a description of the abominations which passed under his eye, in a letter to a friend, which he accompanied with the strongest expressions of gratitude to God for that glorious Reformation by which Britain was delivered from such spiritual slavery and degradation. After a passage of six weeks from Lisbon, he arrived at Beaufort, S. C, with his orphan charge all in health, on the 27th of May. Having got them comfortably settled at their new home, he travelled by water to New York, with greatly improved health, and con- tinued to preach, chiefly in New York and Philadelphia, and between the two places, till the middle of September. " Every where," he observes, " a Divine power accompanied the word, prejudices were removed, and a more effectual door opened than ever for preaching the Gospel." At the Com- mencement in New Jersey College, of which Mr. Burr was then President, Mr. Whitefield received the honorary degree of Master of Arts. Immedi- ately after Commencement, there was a meeting of the Synod, at which he was also present, and preached several times to delighted and deeply affected audiences. From New Jersey he travelled North in company with his friend. Presi- dent Burr, as far as Portsmouth, N. H. ; and in Boston particularly he found both the ministers and churches more favourably disposed towards his ministrations, than in any preceding period. Indeed, the opposition which had prevailed against him in former years had in a great measure died away, insomuch that he was generally welcomed with the warmest expressions of confidence and good-will. In the spring of 1755, he returned to England, and the first thing that he noticed, on his arrival, was the increased prosperity of religion in his native land. " Many in Oxford," he writes, " are awakened to the know- ledge of the truth, and I have heard almost every week of some fresh minister or another that seems determined to know nothing but Jesus Christ and Him crucified." In the course of this year, he opened a new Tabernacle at Norwich, and before the close of the next year, he had the pleasure also of opening the celebrated Chapel in Tottenham Court Eoad, which he had been instrumental in causing to be erected, and which was subsequently often the scene of his labours. About this time, he made two visits to Scotland, in quick succession, — ■ the latter in the spring of 1757, during the sessions of the General Assem- bly of the Scotch Kirk. Many of the clergymen attended on his preaching, and some who had been strongly prejudiced against him, not only had their prejudices removed, but avowed themselves henceforth decidedly in his favour ; and a large number of them, including also the King's Commis- sioner, testified their respect for him by inviting him to an entertainment. Prom Scotland he passed over to Ireland, where he had well-nigh lost his life, from having, at the close of a religious service, fallen into the hands of a Popish rabble. He was, however, almost miraculously preserved, though not without severe injury ; and, on leaving the place the next morn- 104 EPISCOPALIAN. ing, he writes, — " I leave my persecutors to his mercy, who, of persecutors has often made preachers. I pray God I may thus be avenged of them." And in another letter he writes, — " I received many blows and wounds ; one was particularly large and near my temples. I thought of Stephen, and was in hopes, like him, to go off in this bloody triumph to the immedi- ate presence of my Master." In the summer of 1760, he began to be subjected to a somewhat singular kind of persecution, — that of being burlesqued and ridiculed in a theatrical performance. There was a farce called " The Minor," — supposed to be written by a certain Rev. Mr. Madan, — acted at Drury Lane Theatre, which was designed to bring Mr. Whitefield's person and manner into con- tempt ; but the performance was a miserable compound of dulness and impiety, which served only to excite the indignation of those who had any respect for Christianity or its ministers. They quickly found that their labour was lost ; and that which was intended for his injury, actually resulted in increasing his usefulness, by rendering still greater the number who thronged to heiar him. During a considerable part of the year 1761, his health was so much enfeebled, that he was, in a great measure, for the time, laid aside from his work ; but the prescriptions of several eminent physicians in Edinburgh, under the Divine blessing, so far availed to his recovery that, in April, 1762, we find him again vigorously at his work in Bristol, and preaching five or six times a week, apparently without inconvenience. On returning to London, however, he found himself again sinking under a pressure of care, and in the month of July he made a voyage to Holland, in respect to which he subsequently writes, — " The expedition to Holland was, I trust, profitable to myself and others, and if ever my usefulness is to be continued at London, I must be prepared for it by a longer itineration both by land and water." Notwithstanding he was in the strictest sense a cosmopolite, he evidently not only had a strong attachment to this country, but felt, especially in his latter days, that his home was here rather than any where else. Accord- ingly, in the summer of 1763, having passed a little time in Scotland, he embarked for the sixth time for America, and arrived here in the latter end of August, after a voyage of twelve weeks. As it was thought hazardous for him to travel immediately to the South, as his inclination would have prompted, he made a tour into New England, preaching every where, and generally with great acceptance. While upon this journey, he visited Dr. Wheelock's Indian School, with great satisfaction ; and, on writing to a friend concerning it, immediately after, he says, — " How would you have been delighted to have seen Mr. Wheelock's Indians. Such a promising nursery of future missionaries I believe was never seen in New England before. Pray encourage it with all your might." He returned from Bos- ton Southward, in the course of the autumn, and arrived at his Orphan House in Georgia about the close of the year. In the summer of 1765, he returned to England again, and almost imme- diately after his arrival was called upon to open Lady Huntingdon's Chapel in Bath, — an occasion in which he seems to have felt the deepest interest. Uut his bodily infirmities were beginning now to interfere, in no small GEORGE WHITEFIELD. JQS degree, with his public labours ; though his unquenchable zeal would never suffer him to be inactive, unless necessity were absolutely laid upon him. " Oh, to end life well," says he ; " methinks I have now but one more river to pass over. And we know of One that can carry us over without being ankle deep." He remained in Great Britain, traversing various parts of the country, though oppressed with infirmities, till September, 1769, when he once more embarked for America, never to return to his native land. His parting with his friends was a scene of unusual tenderness, and he seems to have had an impression, amounting almost to an assurance, that he was coming away to die. After his arrival in Georgia, however, his health became so much better that he was able to preach vigorously, and almost as frequently as he had done in his best days. He was received with unusual cordiality by the most distinguished men of the Colony; and the Governor, and Coun- cil, and General Assembly were pleased, in a formal manner, to express their gratitude to him as a public benefactor. Again he travelled to the North with an intention of returning so as to spend the winter at his Orphan House ; but God had a different purpose concerning him, and his career was now rapidly drawing to a close. During the month of September, he preached nearly every day, ranging from Boston to Old York and Kit- tery, in Maine. On his return from Portsmouth to Boston, he had engaged to preach at Newburyport, but before he reached the latter place, he yielded to the importunity of the people that he would preach at Exeter ; and, after having continued his discourse for nearly two hours, in the open air, he left, greatly fatigued, for Newburyport, where he arrived Saturday night, with the expectation of preaching the next day. In the course of the night, he awoke several times, and complained much of a diflElculty of breathing ; and at six o'clock, the next morning, (September 30, 1770,) he expired in a fit of the asthma, at the house of his friend, the Rev. Jonathan Parsons. The account of his death-scene and funeral, as it was sketched by some who were eye witnesses, is intensely interesting. It is generally known that the remains of this venerable servant of Christ were deposited in a vault belonging to the Rev. Mr. Parsons' Church, where they continue to this day. Whitefield's Letters, Sermons, Controversies, and other Tracts, with an account of his Life, were published in seven volumes, octavo, 1771. The following notice of Whitefield, from Dr. Franklin's Autobiography, is at once the most extended and the most impartial testimony concerning him, that T can find from any one who could speak from personal knowledge ; and it is scarcely less illustrative of the character of the writer than of the subject : — "In 1739, arrived among us from Ireland, the Rev. Mr. 'Whitefield, who had made himself remarltable there as an itinerant preacher. Hewasat first permitted to preach in some of our churches; but the clergy, taking a dislike to him, soon refused him their pulpits, and he was obliged to preach in the fields. The multitudes of all sects and denominations that attended his sermons were enormous, and it was a matter of speculation to me, who was one of the number, to observe the extraordinary influence of his oratory on his hearers, and how much they admired and respected him, notwith- standing his common abuse of them, by assuring them they were naturally half beasts and half devils. It was wonderful to see the change soon made in the manners of our inhabitants. From being thoughtless or indifferent about religion, it seemed as if all the world were growing religious, so that one could not walk through the town in an evening, without hearing psalms sung in different families of every street. Vol. V. 14 106 EPISCOPALIAN. "And it being found inconvenient to assemble in the open air, subject to its inclem- encies, the building of a house to meet In was no sooner proposed, and persons appoint- ed to receive contributions, than sufficient sums were soon received to procure the ground, and erect the building, which was one hundred feet long and seventy broad; and the work was carried on with sach spirit as to be finished in a much shorter time than could have been expected. Both house and ground were vested in trustees, expressly for the use of any preacher, of any religious persuasion, who might desire to say something to the people at Philadelphia; the design in building being not to accommo- date any particular sect, but the inhabitants in general ; so that even if the Mufti of Constantinople were to send a missionary to preach Mohamedanism to us, he would tind a pulpit at his service. " Mr. Whitefield, on leaving us, went preaching all the way through the Colonies to Georgia. The settlement of that Province had been lately begun, but, instead of being made with hardy, industrious husbandmen, accustomed to labour, the only people fit for such an enterprise, it was with families of broken shop-keepers, and other insolvent debtors, many of indolent and idle habits, taken out of the jails, who. being set down in the woods, unqualified for clearing land, and unable to endure the hardships of a new settlement, perished in numbers, leaving many helpless children unprovidud for. The sight of their miserable situation inspired the benevolent heart of Mr. Whitefield with the idea of building an Orphan House there, in which they might be supported and educated. Returning Northward, he preached up this charity, and made large collections ; — for his eloquence had a wonderful power over the hearts and purses of his hearers, of which I myself was an instance. " I did not disapprove of the design, but as Georgia was then destitute of materials and workmen, and it was proposed to send them from Philadelphia, at a great expense, I thought it would have been better to have built the house at Philadelphia, and brought the children to it. This I advised ; but he was resolute in his first project, rejected my counsel, and I therefore refused to contribute. I happened soon after to attend one of his sermons, in the course of which I perceived he intended to finish with a collection, and I silently resolved he should get nothing from me. I had in my pocket a handful of copper money, three or four silver dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As he proceeded, I began to soften, and concluded to give the copper. Another stroke of his oratory made me ashamed of that, and determined me to give the silver, and he finished so admirably that I emptied my pocket wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all. At this sermon there was also one of our club, who, being of my sentiments respecting the building in Georgia, and suspecting a collection might be intended, had, by precaution, emptied his pockets betore he came from home. Toward the conclusion of the discourse, however, he felt a strong inclination to give, and applied to a neigh- bour, who stood near him, to lend him some money for the purpose. The request was fortunately made to perhaps the only man in the company who had the firmness not to be affected by the preacher. His answer was, 'At any other time. Friend Hopkin- son, I would lend to thee freely; but not now, for thee seems to be out of thy right senses.' "Some of Mr. Whitefield's enemies affected to suppose that he would apply these collections to his own private emolument; but I, who was intimately acquainted with him, being employed in printing his Sermons and Journals, never had the least suspi- cion of his integrity, but am to this day decidedly of opinion that he was in all his conduct a perfectly honest man ; and methinks my testimony in his favour ought to have the more weight, as we had no religious connection. He used, indeed, some- times, to pray for my conversion, but never had the satisfaction of believing that his prayers were heard. Our's was a mere civil friendship, sincere on both sides, and la.sted to his death. . " The following instance will show the terms on which we stood. Upon one of his arrivals from England at Boston, he wrote to me that he should come soon to Phila- delphia, but knew not where he could lodge when there, as he understood his old friend and host, Mr. Benezet, was removed to Germantown. My answer was, 'You know my house; if you can make shift with its scanty accommodations, you will be most heartily welcome.' He replied that if I made that kind offer fot Christ's sake, 1 should not miss of a reward. And I returned, — ' Don't let me be mistaken; it was not for Christ's sake, but for your sake.' One of our common acquaintance jocosely remarked that, knowing it to be the custom of the saints, when they received any favour, to shift the burden of the obligation from off their own shoulders, and place it in Heaven, I had contrived to fix it on earth. " The last time I saw Mr. Whitefield was in London, when he consulted me about his Orphan House concern, and his purpose of appropriating it to the establishment of a College. "He had a loud and clear voice, and articulated his words so perfectly that he might be heard and understood at a great distance, especially as his auditors observed the most perfect silence. He preached one evening from the top of the Court House GEORGE WHITEFIELD. 107 steps, which are in the middle of Marljet Street, and on the West side of Second Street, which crosses it at right angles. Both streets were filled with his hearers to a considerable distance. Being among the hindmost in Market Street, I had the curi- osity to learn how far he could he heard, by retiring backwarddown the street toward the river: audi found his voice distinct till I came near Front Street, when some noise in that street obscured it. Imagining then a semi-circle, of which my distance should be the radius, and that it was filled with auditors, to each of whom I allowed two square feet, I computed that he might well be heard by more than thirty thousand. This reconciled me to the newspaper accounts of his having preached to twcnty-flve thousand people in the fields, and to the history of generals haranguing whole armies, of which I had sometimes doubted. " By hearing him often, I came to distinguish easily between sermons newly com- posed, and those which he had often preached in the course of his travels. His deliv- ery of the latter was so improved by frequent repetition that every accent, every emphasis, every modulation of voice, was so perfectly well-turned and well-placed that, without being interested in the subject, one could not help being pleased with the discourse; a pleasure of much the same kind with that received from an excellent piece of music. This is an advantage Itinerant preachers have over those who are stationary, as the latter cannot well improve their delivery of a sermon by so many rehearsals. His writing and printing, from time to time, gave great advantage to his enemies; unguarded expressions and even erroneous opinions, delivered in preaching, might have been afterwards explained or qualified, by supposed others that might have accompanied them, or they might have been denied; but Htera scripta manet. Crit- ics attacked his writings violently, and with so much appearance of reason as to diminish the number of his votaries, and prevent their increase ; so that I am satisfied that if he had never written anything, he would have left behind him a much more numerous and important sect, and his reputation might, in that case, have been still growing, even after bis death, as, there being nothing of his writing on which to found a censure, and give him a lower character, his proselytes would be left at liberty to attribute to him as great a variety of excellencies as their enthusiastic admiration might wish him to have possessed." FROM THE REV. JOTHAM SEAVALL Chestekville, Me., January 1, 1848. Kev. and dear Sir: You ask me for some account of the great Whitefleld. Though I was not quite eleven years old when I saw and heard him, he made an impression upon my mind, which now, in my old age, is almost as vivid as ever. He stands alone among all the men whom I have ever seen. I fear I shall strive in vain to communicate to you my own impressions concerning him, or to add any thing important to the knowledge which you have of him already. With the circumstances of his death at Newburyport you are doubtless well acquainted. On the Thursday immediately preceding that event, I heard him pi-each in York, Me., my native place. He was of about the middle height, perhaps a little inclined to corpulency, though not otherwise than well-propor- tioned, full faced, but at that time somewhat pale. He wore a large white wig and surplice. He was somewhat troubled with the asthma; and though his voice was originally one of great melody, and capable of being modulated to any tone or force within the compass of human ability, I well remember that, at the time referred to, he spoke with some degree of hoarseness. His text was John xiv. 6, — " I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." In the course of his ser- mon he made remarks like the following, which, however tame they may seem on paper, fell with wonderful power from his lips: — " Suppose," said he, " any one of you were lost in a wilderness, and knew of no way to get out — how grate- fully would you welcome the person who should come to show you the way! Well, you are all by nature lost in a wilderness, — the wilderness of sin and death; and the blessed Jesus is so kind and merciful that He has come from Heaven to show you the way — nay. Himself is the Way. But there are those who tell us of some other way of getting to Heaven— and what do you think 'hat can be i Oh it is a way of works! They would construct out of their own 108 EPISCOPALIAN. doings a ladder by which to climb up to glory." He then struck the pulpit with tremendous force, and raised his voice, and cried out, — " Works carry a man to Heaven! It were not more presumptuous than for a person to undertalce to climb to the moon by a rope of sandl'j Towards the close of his discourse, v?hile he was entreating sinners to come to Christ, — the way to holiness, to hap- piness, and to Heaven, he brought to view the gracious and powerful advocacy of the Saviour, and in that connection told the following story. " In the time of the old Eoman Republic," he said, "there was a man who had done worthily for his country, and in the wars in which he had served, had lost both his hands, though the stumps of his arms still remained. He was greatly esteemed and beloved in the community in which he lived. A brother of his was under trial for some offence, before a Court Martial, and there was every prospect that he would be condemned. The unfortunate man being apprized of his brother's perilous condition, made his way into the Court, stretched up the stumps of his arms, but said nothing. The Court, aware of the relation he sustained to the man they were trying, almost immediately pronounced upon him a sentence of acquittal. So Christ," added he," has no need to say any thing in the Court of Heaven — it is enough for him to lift up his wounded hands, and show liis pierced side — these will constitute an availing plea in the poor sinner's behalf, without his actually saying any thing." The effect of this story, with the gesture and expression of countenance that accompanied it, was perfectly elec- trical: nothing that can be put on paper can convey even a remote idea of it. The meeting-house in which I heard him preach was the same in which Mr. Moody, of whose fame you have doubtless heard, had preached for many years; and I recollect his making an allusion to Mr. M. in his sermon to this effect : — " The first time I preached here," said he, " Father Moody would not sit with me in the desk — he said he was not worthy, and took his chair and sat down in that broad aisle, saying that he would sit there and judge of my doctrine. Afterwards he was pleased to say, — 'If ever I felt the power of God on my soul, I have this day.' Now he is singing new anthems in the Kingdom of Heaven." Mr. Whitefield, with all his gifts and excellencies, was not without his defects of both body and mind. I distinctly remember, for instance, that he was squint- eyed. And I.believe too that he had his full share of self-complacency. It was currently reported, in those days, that Mr. Edwards, who, during Whitefleld's earlier visits to this country, resided at Northampton, felt himself constrained to deal plainly with him, and tell him wherein he thought he had erred; and though Whitefield at first resented the reproof as impertinent and uncalled for, yet he afterwards, with a Christian spirit, apologized for what he had said. I recollect too, as I was once travelling through Virginia, to have been told by a son of the late Dr. James Wad dell, that his father, whom Whitefield used sometimes to visit, once ventured to remind him of some things in the former part of his course that he thought inconsistent with clerical propriety ; and the reply was, — " Young Whitefield said and did many things that old Whitefield is ashamed of." But whatever may have been his defects, probably there are few of Christ's ministers who will have so many jewels as he in their crown of glory. I might tell you much more about Whitefield, but as you asked for my per- sonal recollections only, I believe I am no w at the end of them. I will therefore only add that I am very truly and fraternally Yours, JOTHAM SEWALL. JOHN CHECKLET. 109 JOHN CHECKLEY.* 1739—1753. John Checkley was born in Boston, in 1680, but his parents were from England. He had no brother, and only one sister, who died at the age of seventeen. He was early sent to the Grrammar School in Boston, under the care of the celebrated Ezekiel Cheever ; but afterwards went to England, and finished his studies at the University of Oxford. On leaving the University, he travelled extensively in different European countries, and collected many valuable paintings, manuscripts, and other curiosities. The date of his return to this country is not ascertained ; but it is known that he was in Boston in 1715. Mr. Checkley seems to have been, during his whole life, most untiringly devoted to the interests of the Church of England. In 1723, he published a pamphlet in Boston, entitled "A Modest Proof of the Order and Gov- ernment settled by Christ and his Apostles, in the Church." It immedi- ately called forth an earnest and somewhat elaborate answer from Dr. Wigglesworth, Professor of Divinity in Harvard College ; and indeed it gave rise to the first great controversy on the subject of Episcopacy on this Continent. About this time. Dr. Cutler, President of Yale College, renounced his ordination, and declared in favour of Episcopacy ; and as he was soon after settled over Christ Church, Boston, he and Mr. Checkley were brought into intimate relations, and co-operated vigorously for the defence and promotion of the interests of the Church to which they belonged. In the course of the same year, Mr. Checkley published another book, with the following title : — "A Short and Easy method with the Deists. To which is added a Discourse concerning Episcopacy, in defence of Chris- tianity, and the Church of England, against the Deists and Dissenters." In the latter part of the work, which alone was written by himself, (the first part being Leslie's famous argument with the Deists,) he handled with great freedom the people of New England, and especially the Clergy, and made some offensive allusions to the family then on the throne of Great Britain. This, in those tolerant days, was not to be endured ; and, accord- ingly, he was prosecuted and tried for a libel, and sentenced to " pay a fine of fifty pounds to the King, and enter into recognisance in the sum of one hundred pounds, with two sureties in the sum of fifty pounds -each, for his good behaviour for six months, and also pay costs of prosecution." Upon this trial, he made a speech in his own defence, which he afterwards pub- lished in England, including also, in the same pamphlet, "the Jury's Verdict, his Plea in arrest of Judgment, and the Sentence of the Court." He concludes his plea thus — " the Dissenters are afiirmed to be no minis- ters; to be schismatics and excommunicate by the laws of England, which are part of the law of the land ; and, therefore, to say the same things of them, I humbly hope, shall not be deemed a libel." * Eliot'6 Biographical Dictionary. — Massaohuaotts Hiatorloal CoUeotionSj VIII. — Updike's Hist. Narrag. Ch. 1X0 EPISCOPALIAN. In 1727, Mr. Checkley, having reached the age of forty-seven years, went to England with a view to obtain Holy Orders. A letter signed by the Rev. John Barnard, and the Rev. Edward Holyoke, the two Congrega- tional ministers of Marblehead, was sent to Dr. Gibson, the Bishop of London, stating that Checkley " was a bitter enemy to other denomina- tions, a Noil-juror, and that he had not a liberal education." The Bishop read this letter to Grovernor Shute, who was then in England, and who substantially confirmed its statements ; whereupon he refused to grant him ordination ; and he returned to this country, as he left it, a layman. But, notwithstanding this disappointment, he still kept to his purpose of being a minister in the Church of England ; and, after about a dozen years, he resolved on making a second application. Accordingly, in 1739, he crossed the ocean again, and succeeded in accomplishing his object. He was ordained by Dr. Weston, Bishop of Exeter, at the extraordinary age of fifty-nine. Mr. Checkley, on returning to his native country, was sent as a Mission- ary to Providence, R. I. There he ministered, officiating at intervals at Warwick and Attleborough, for fourteen years. He died on the 15th of February, 1753, in the seventy-third year of his age. Besides the pamphlets already mentioned, Mr. Checkley wrote a small tract, opposing the Calvinistic view of Predestination, which was published, and afterwards replied to by his intimate friend, Thomas Walter, in the year 1715. Mr. Checkley was married, shortly after his return from his first visit to England, to a sister of the Rev. Dr. Miller,* the Episcopal Missionary at Braintree. They had two children, a son and a daughter. The son (John) was graduated at Harvard College in 1738, studied Divinity under the direction of his father, went to England for Orders, was appointed Mis- sionary to Newark, N. J., and during his sojourn in England, died of the small-pox. He was reputed a young man of fine talents, and most estima- ble moral qualities. The daughter (Rebecca) was married to Henry Paget, an Irish gentleman. Dr. Eliot, in his Biographical Dictionary, thus describes the elder Checkley : — " He was a very excellent linguist; was well acquainted with four languages, besides the vernacular — Hebrew, Greek, Latin, and Indian, which rendered him a companion for learned and curious men, all of whom were fond of the company of John Checkley; though some were offended by his opinions, and others thought him too much of a wag for an intimate acquaintance. Anecdotes concerning him were constantly repeated by people of the last generation, when a company wished to be entertained with witty stories, or ludicrous tricks; many of these were doubtless without foundation, but they mark the character of the man." * Ebbnezee Miller was gradaated at Harvard College in 1722; went to England and obtained Episcopal ordination in 1727, and returned as a Missionary from the venerable Society, and became Rector of the Church at Braintree, on the 25th of December, of that year ; was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the University of Oxford in 1747; and died on the 11th of February, 1763. His decease was unkindly noticed in one of the newspapers, which gave occasion to a heated controversy between the Episcopalians and the Independents. THOMAS CRADOCK. HI THOMAS CRADOCK. 1742—1770. FROM THE REY. ETHAN ALLEN, D. D. Baltimoke, Md., December 11, 1857. Rev. and dear Brother : I am happy to comply with your request, in furnishing you with some notices of the life and character of the Rev. Mr. Cradock, which I have gathered partly from the Vestry llecords of St. Thomas' Parish, of which he was the incumbent, but far more from his private papers, placed at my disposal by his grandson, Dr. Thomas Walker, now an octogenarian, and residing at Trentham, his grandfather's place, ten miles Northwest from Baltimore. Nor should I forget to mention the Doctor's conversations, which also furnished something never before com- mitted to paper. It has been interesting to me to trace the history of a man of such talents, and learning, and prospects in his native land, coming over to the new world, and settling himself down in a back-woods parish, — a man of such decided piety, and such controlling influence among his people, and leaving us such an example of vigorous activity and generous self-sacrifice. If others shall be as much interested in contemplating his life and character as I have been, I shall not regret the time devoted to keeping his memory from passing utterly away. Thomas Cradock was born atWolverham, in Bedfordshire, England, in the year 1718. Wolverham was one of the estates of the Duke of Bedford. Soon after the birth of a younger brother of Mr. Cradock, the lady of the Duke presented him also with a son. But so feeble was her health that she was unable to take charge of her infant, and Mrs. Cradock readily undertook to nurse and bring it up ; and by this means the Duke's son, and Mrs. Cradock's sons became early and intimately associated. And so tenderly and faithfully did she perform her part, that the Duke, as an acknowledgment of his obligations to her, took upon himself the education of her two sons. He placed them under the same masters with his own son, and, at a proper age, sent them all to Cambridge, where they pursued their studies till their course was finished. The Duke intended both the Cradocks for the Episcopate ; and by such influence as he wielded, it was not uncommon for men, at that time, to be made Bishops in England. In the case of John, the younger brother, he was successful. After being, by the patronage of Lord Gower, whose daughter the Duke married, the Rector of St. Paul's, Covent G-arden, London, and subsequently the Duke's Chaplain, in the year 1757 he accompanied that nobleman to Ireland, upon his accession to the Vice Royalty of that Island, and in two months after his arrival, he was appointed to the See of Kilmore. In 1772, he was transferred, and became Archbishop of Dublin, and a member, conse- quently, of the House of Lords. He died, December 11, 1777, and was buried in St. Patrick's Cathedral. *' He was," says his biographer, "a portly, well looking man, of a liberal turn of opinion, and of a social and generous disposition." 112 EPISCOPALIAN. Thomas had been intended by the Duke for one of the Sees in England. But an attachment having sprung up between a sister of the Duke's lady and himself, he was induced by her friends to migrate to Maryland. It is said that the Duke of Bedford's influence with Lord Baltimore, the Pro- prietary of the Province, procured him the promise of a good parish, and that St. Thomas was erected into one for him. His patron doubtless looked forward to the Episcopate for him in this country ; but from motives of State policy, no Bishop for the Colonies was permitted to be appointed, and the Duke's intentions therefore failed of being realized. Mr. Gradock, it is believed, came to Maryland in the year 1742. In October of that year, the General Assembly passed an Act for the erection of a chapel of ease in the Northwestern part of St. Paul's Parish, about twelve miles from Baltimore town, to be called St. Thomas, providing also that, upon the death of the then Rector of St. Paul's, the Rev. Benedict Bourdillon,* the parish should be divided by a line running nearly due East and West, about eight or nine miles North of the town, the North part to become St. Thomas' Parish, and the chapel the parish church thereof. On the 5th of January, 1745, Mr. Bourdillon died. Accordingly, St. Thomas then became an independent parish ; and on the 4th day of February, Mr. Cradock presented his Letters of Induction to the newly elected Vestry, from his Excellency Thomas Bladen, Esq., Grovernor of the Province of Maryland, to exercise the office of Minister in the parish. At that time, it may be remembered, the appointment of a minister to a parish was not in the hands of the people of the parish, nor in the hands of the Vestry, as it now is. The appointment was at the disposal of Lord Baltimore, the Proprietary of the Province. It was given him in his Charter ; and he ever used this appointing power by his Grovernor. Indeed, by that Charter, he held the appointment of ministers of all denominations — no church of any name could have a minister to officiate, but by his appoint- ment ; and thus it continued till '76. The parish was then a Northwestern frontier parish. The lands, three miles North of the church, had been patented only five years before this. The church is about three miles North from the Southern boundary of the parish ; and its brick walls are as perfect and entire now, as when they first went up. It is situated on a hill, the highest eminence perhaps within many miles around. It can be seen in every direction for a great distance. There were consequently no water-springs near by, as is generally the case * Rev. Behedict Bourdillon was of French origin, probably a Hngoenot, who, having received ordination in the English Church, came over into the Province of Maryland, aa did many others of the same class of emigrants about that time, and in 1735 became the incumbent of Somerset Parish, in Somerset County. On the 24th of July, 1739, he was presented to St. Paul's Parish, Baltimore County, (now City.) In less than two years, the people of his charge had so increased, that a chapel of ease wa« needed for the frontier forest inhabitants, some ten miles distant from the parish church. The Vestry agreed to this; and Mr. B. drew up a subscription for building it, commencing thus: — "Whereas the founding and building of churches have, through all ages, since the planting of Christianity in the world, been reckoned a most noble, generous, advantageous and laudable custom, tending to advance the glory of God, and of our Lord Jesus Christ, and to promote the knowledge of eternal salvation, we, therefore, the sub- scribers, upon these considerations," io. He headed the subscription with an amount four times as large as that of any other person in the parish. This chapel, after Mr. B's death, be- came the parish church of St. Thomas' Parish, of which the Rev. Thomas Cradock and the Rev. Dr. Andrews were subsequently Rectors. The Governor of Maryland was a particular friend of his, and was godfather to one of his sons. He appears to have been a man of infirm health, but an earnest, energetic pastor. He was much lamented by his parishioners. He left a widow and one or more children. THOMAS CRADOCK. 113 In the country churches of Maryland ; but there still are, in the very church yard, noble branching old oak and chestnut trees, under whose shade, when the summer sun sent down his mid-day rays, the worshippers of a hundred years ago, after toiling up the ascents leading to the sanctuary, seated themselves to enjoy the cool shade and refreshing breeze. It is truly a beautiful spot for a church, — like a city set on an hill ; and does credit to the taste and judgment of those by whom it was selected. Mr. Cradock's salary, on taking charge of the parish, was small. The Clergy then were supported by a tax on every white male, and every ser- vant over sixteen years of age, of forty pounds of tobacco. This tax was collected and paid over by the County Sheriff. And it was collected from all, whether they were Episcopalians, Quakers, or Romanists, the two latter being the only Dissenters from the Church of England, in the Colony, at that time. So rapidly did the settlements extend in Mr. Cradock's parish, that, at the time of his death, his salary was more than five times as much as when he took charge of it. In a little more than a year after his induction into the parish, Mr. Cra- dock was married to Catherine, daughter of John Eisteau, Esq., High Sheriff of the County. Mr. R. was a Huguenot, who had fled to Maryland from France, upon the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. Strong in his Pro- testant prepossessions, he was so much pleased with his daughter's marry- ing a Protestant clergyman, that he presented her with the farm called Trentham, — a part of his estate which would have otherwise descended to her brother. In the Maryland Gazette, then published in the city of Annapolis, and the only paper in the Colony, under' date of May 5, 1747, the Rev. Mr. Cradock advertised to take young gentlemen into his family, and teach them the Latin and Greek languages, and furnish them with board at twenty pounds, Maryland currency, that is about fifty-three dollars and twenty cents per annum, in advance. This school was accordingly opened, and it was probably more from the desire of usefulness, and the love of literary pursuits, than with a view to add to his means of support. For besides his parish income, which was then indeed small, — not amounting to three hundred dollars, it will be recollected that he was in possession of a good farm. This school was continued by him for some years, and was patron- ized from the more Southern counties of the Province. Mr. Cradock was so much devoted to his studies, that, not unfrequently, when he had friends visiting at his house, he would withdraw himself unobserved, and when inquired for, was sure to be found quietly ensconced in his study. And the present remains of both his theological and classical library put it beyond all doubt that it presented some temptations to such a seclusion. During this year also, (1747,) Mr. Cradock published two Sermons ; one of which was preached in St. Thomas' Church, from Psalm cxxii, 6, 7, on the day of the Governor's Thanksgiving, on the occasion of the Suppression of the Scotch Rebellion ; and the other, on the same occasion, in St. Paul's Church, Baltimore town, from Proverbs xvii. 22. In the latter Discourse,, referring to the fact that the defeat of the Pretender was a glorious triumph of Protestantism, he utters this impassioned language : — " Yes, my brethren and fellow citizens, let us remember what we are, whence we came, and. Vol. V. 15 114 EPISCOPALIAN. whom we sprung from , — that we are Britons ; that we are the sons of those who valued life less than liberty, and readily gave their blood to leave that liberty to posterity. Let us remember what right every Englishman enjoys, and that the proudest of us all cannot, dares not, oppress his meanest, lowest brother. And Oh let us remember that we can choose our religion likewise, and need not tamely, basely submit to the slavish yoke of a Roman Pontiif ; — a yoke which I hope I may now boldly say, our proud enemies attempted to put upon us in vain, and which every honest man would have rejected with the loss of his last blood. These, all these, let us remember ; and can we then be otherwise than merry and joyful, and pour forth our whole soul in grateful acknowledgment to the Divine Being." Somewhere between 1750 and 1753, when, as he states, he had lived nine years in the Province, he preached " to a numerous audience of all ranks," but where is not stated, a Sermon from Titus i. 5: " For this cause I left thee in Crete, that thou shouldst set in order the things that are wanting, and ordain Elders in every city, as I had appointed thee." This Sermon was requested for publication ; and a copy, now before me, was prepared for the press, and was introduced by a Preface. Whether it was published I am unable to ascertain. The object was, from a statement of facts relative to the ministry in the Colony, to show the necessity of the Episcopate in it. After making some startling revelations, he adds, — - " I shall consider all that hear me of the same communion with myself; and that therefore they will readily agree some such power and authority is wanting in this Province ; and that great are the mischiefs that spring from the want of it. Consequently it is high time that we bestir ourselves, and endeavour to have that authority delegated to somebody that is worthy of it, from its proper fountain." To give encouragement to such a movement he says — " Four or five years ago, we heard of such an authority being to be settled among us, and that a venerable Prelate at home would not accept of a certain Bishopric without a full promise that the Plantations should have a particular Bishop of their own. I had an opportunity of hearing a letter from that same Prelate to our late worthy Commissary, wherein he mentions his having applied to Parliament for that purpose. And I think we may also be certain — from the excellent letter that our present noble Proprietary was pleased to honour one of our order with — that we should not want his assistance in the promoting so good a work." In carrying out his subject, he lays down and sustains, learnedly and eloquently, the four following propositions : — " 1st. That where men in any oiEce are under no restraint, and in no apprehensions of being called to an account, they will naturally deviate from their duty, and fall into the ways of wickedness and folly. 2d. Not only so, but when this is the case, wicked men will endeavour to get into such offices, and the more because they know they cannot be called to an account for their misconduct therein. 3d. The people must be in a bad condition indeed, whose welfare, tempo- ral or eternal, depends on such persons. 4th. The enemies of a cause thus unhappily managed, will wonderfully rejoice at it, and will give full play to their injurious aspersions." The Sermon is full of interest in many respects. Extracts cannot do it justice. THOMAS CRADOCK. 1]^5 In the year 1753, Mr. Ci-adock published a Version of the Psalms. It was a translation from the Hebrew original into uniform heroic verse. It was published by subscription, as the notice of it in the Maryland Gazette shows ; and the number and character of the subscribers, some of whom took a large number of copies, indicate something of the high public estimate of the author. It is certainly a monument of Mr. C.'s learning in that department, and is well worthy of not being forgotten. The period to which we have now come still found but few inhabitants North of the church, and the country was mostly one unbroken wild wood, where the Indians and wolves alike prowled not unfrequently, and the wild deer were often seen and hunted. After the defeat of Braddock, in 1755, at what is now Pittsburg, the Indians passed down this side of Fort Cum- berland to within sixty or seventy miles of St. Thomas, in large parties, for murder and plunder. It created great alarm all over this region. And it was probably at this time that we hear of those who attended the church on the Lord's day, burnishing their arms and preparing their ammu- nition, on Saturday evening, and next day, at the sanctuary, placing their guns in the corner of the pews, during the hour of Divine service. This was no doubt so ; and all this but about one hundred years ago, in what we now call old Maryland. I have alluded to Mr. Cradock's devotion to literature. And it will, I think, strike any one as a matter of some interest, that a highly educated student from Cambridge University, England, should be found in the then back-woods of a Transatlantic Colony, so lovingly immersed in Hebrew, Greek, and Roman literature. Not that it led him, by any means, to the neglect of his parish — tradition brings no such accusation. On the con- trary, he was his people's pastor and friend, and so long as he lived, it is not known that there was a Dissenting place of worship in his parish. Still, he found time, with his parish, his school, and his farm, to court the Muse, and delve in classical antiquity. There is still, in the possession of his descendants, a fragment of a manuscript, containing some of his poetical translations of Martial ; an Elegy on a young lady in about eighty lines ; Hymns on various subjects, and for different occasions, &c. These Hymns show not only his evangelical views, but the cheerful and lively tone of his piety. And while the internal was thus sedulously cared for, he was not inattentive to things outward. The pulpit, and desk, and chancel, were furnished with the largest old English folio Bibles and Prayer Books ; and he officiated always in the surplice. About 1763, Mr. Cradock was visited with a most remarkable paralysis, which continued till the day of his death, — some six or seven years after. His whole body was paralyzed, so that he was unable, of himself, to change the position of his limbs ; and yet his mind retained its full vigour. During all this time, he seldom failed to fulfil his Sabbath appointments. He had to be carried to the church, and then placed in his chair ; for he could not stand while officiating ; and if his head happened to sway over to his shoulder, the sexton would come and place it in its upright position. He was a large man, exceeding in weight two hundred and fifty. His ser- mons he was obliged to have written by an amanuensis ; and Mr. George Howard, one of the young gentlemen educated by him, was for some years IIQ EPISCOPALIAN. thus employed. After his death, Mr. Cradock's own sons performed that service for him. There still remain quite a number of his manuscript sermons, in his own hand writing, as well as in that of his amanuensis. The number of communicants in the later years of his ministry was large. It is matter of regret that it was not then, as now, the custom to keep a register of their names. But the number is still remembered. His daughter was accustomed, in after times, to tell of having been at the Communion in St. Thomas', when there were present more than a hundred communicants. It was the palmy day of that parish. In February, 1769, he was called to a severe affliction in the death of his eldest son, Arthur, in the twenty-second year of his age. He was looking forward to the ministry, for which he was already prepared, and was awaiting the return vessels in the spring to go to England for Orders, when he was seized with a fatal illness. He is still remembered for his piety and zeal. They were such as gained for him in his day the name of Methodist, then already rife in England. Young as he was, he was accus- tomed to hold religious services at Westminster, as it is now called, — a village in his father's parish, more than twenty miles from his residence. He was also a poet, and indeed so were the whole family. On the 7th of May, 1770, in the fifty-second year of his age, Mr. Cradock entered into his rest ; having been the incumbent of St. Thomas' Parish a little more than twenty-five years. A friend who, in London, published his obituary, writes thus concerning him : — " He was universally allowed to be a sincere Christian, a polished scholar, an elegant and per- suasive preacher, a tender parent, and an affectionate husband. And though, for many years, by the will of Providence, he was rendered inca- pable of performing the ordinary duties of life, yet he seldom omitted his duty as a Minister of the Established Church ; and by his piety, charity, benevolence, and hospitality, he had the rare felicity of rendering himself acceptable to those of a different communion from himself, and to every one who had the pleasure of his acquaintance. Nor was he less fortunate in his domestic happiness : conscious to himself of his own integrity, he never suspected that of others." He thus left behind him a name and character which were a precious legacy to his family and friends. Mr. Cradock, at his death, left a widow, who survived him twenty-five years, and died at the age of eighty-two. He also left two sons and a daughter. John, the eldest son, who was twenty-one years of age, when his father died, became a physician. He was a Whig of '76, and served one year with General Washington in the Flying Camp, holding a Major's commission. He was, for many years, a Vestryman in the parish, and was frequently a delegate to the Diocesan Convention. He died at the age of forty-five, leaving behind him a son and four daughters. Thomas, the younger son, was also a physician. He too was an active promoter of the Kevolution. He was a Vestryman in the parish for forty years, often their representative in the Diocesan Convention, and one of the delegates to the first General Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church. He became distinguished in his profession, and died a bachelor, at the age of sixty-nine, having spent his days at Trentham, on his father's estate, which he had inherited. THOMAS CRADOCK. H'J Ann, the daughter, married Charles Walker Esq., a planter. She sur- vived her father thirty-six years and died at the age of fifty-one, leaving behind her five sons and seven daughters. Mr. Walker was, like his brother in law, a Vestryman for forty years, in St. Thomas' Parish. St. John's Church in the Valley, and its parsonage, stand on ground given by him in 1816. He died in 1825, aged eighty-one. Mr. Cradoek gave much attention to the education of his children. Thomas is especially spoken of for his early attainments in the classics ; being able, at the age of twelve, to repeat entire pages of Homer in the Greek. But to the education of his only daughter he was particularly devoted; and a specimen of her poetry that I have seen, written at the age of fourteen, on the death of her brother, shows that her mind must, even then, have attained to no inconsiderable degree of cultivation. After the death of Mr. Cradoek, the church which he had served so long, owing to various adverse circumstances, became exceedingly depressed, and in 1777, was offered to Mr. Asbury, who had, a few years before, come to this country. But the Cradocks stood firm, and, with a few friends helping, the church was preserved, and, having passed through various fortunes, still lives, there being now several Episcopal churches, within the old bounds of the parish. Under God, therefore, it will be seen, that it is owing to the Rev. Thomas Cradoek, the Rector of St. Thomas', in 1745, that the parish has this day a name to live. Surely the memory of such a man is worthy of being embalmed in the church. Wishing you health, happiness, and much of God's presence and favour, I am your friend and brother, ETHAN ALLEN. THOMAS BACON. 1745—1768. FROM THE REV. ETHAN ALLEN, D. D Baltimobe, Md., February 4, 1858. Dear Sir : Before commencing my sketch of Thomas Bacon, allow me to indicate to you the sources from which the material for it has been drawn. Having occasion, some few years since, to look into his " Laws of Mary- land " for help in pursuing the general History of our State, and finding there how much it was indebted to him, I became interested to know some- thing, if possible, of his own life and character. Not long after, I came across a copy of his little work, addressed to Slaves. And in the Preface I found some interesting facts pertaining to his personal history. Subse- quently, on a visit to Myrtle Grove, in Talbot County, the residence of the late Hon. Robert H. Goldsborough, formerly of the United States Senate, his daughter showed me an old box of papers, of a Mr. Callister, formerly an English merchant at Oxford, in which I found the letter book of Mr. C, IIQ EPISCOPALIAN. and much of his correspondence. In that correspondence were a number of Mr. Bacon's letters to him, and in his letter book much written of him to his correspondents in the Isle of Man. Mentioning these things one day to the Hon. J. B. Kerr, Esq., a family connection, I received from him much additional information. This statement will enable you to judge of the authenticity of what I am about to communicate. Thomas Bacon was a native of the Isle of Man — an island in the Irish sea, about equally distant from the coasts of England, Scotland, and Ire- land, and forming part of the Diocese of the Bishop of Sodor and Man. He must have been born not far from 1720. As to his family, he was of good descent, his brother being Sir Anthony Bacon. Of his early education all that I have been able to learn is, that he was the pupil and protege of the pious and celebrated Bishop Wilson, of Sodor and Man. Having completed his theological studies, he was ordained Deacon by Bishop Wilson, September 23, 1744, and in March following, Priest, with a view to his going to one of the Plantations. Soon after this, he received the appointment of Chaplain to Lord Bal- timore, the Proprietary of Maryland, and came over to his Province. He arrived here in the autumn of 1745, and went at once to Oxford, the then port of entry for the Eastern Shore, in Talbot County. There was an intelligent merchant residing there from his own Island, to whom he brought letters, and by whom he was very cordially welcomed. Mr. Bacon was accompanied by his wife and a young son. The Eector of the parish,* a good old French Huguenot, who had re- ceived Orders in the English Church, was very near his end, and he appointed Mr. Bacon his Curate. His sermons had gained for him the character of a sober, good and learned man ; and he was found to be most agreeable in the social circle. Like the sainted Herbert, who had but a few years preceded him, he was devoted to music, was a good composer, and played well on two or three instruments. Of Herbert it is said that "his chiefest recreation was music, in which heavenly art he was a most excellent master, and did himself compose many hymns and anthems which he set and sung to his lute and viol. He would often say, Keligion does not banish mirth, but only moderates and sets rules to it." The old Kector died late in the year 1745, and Mr. Bacon succeeded to his place. His ministry proved most acceptable, and his congregation so increased that it was found necessary to enlarge his church ; and this was the very first year of his ministry here. He lived at Oxford some two years, and then removed about twelve miles higher up the country, to Dover, near the head of tide water. About that time, he thus writes to his people : — " Upon being appointed your minister, I began seriously and carefully to examine into the state of religion in the parish. And I found a great many poor negro slaves, belonging to Christian masters and mistresses, •The Eet. Samuel Mayhadibb. He left EnglaiTid subsequently to 1713, and in 1716 be- came the inoumbent here, and continued to be till tiis death in the autumn of 1745. His son Dmdel, in 1760, went to England, and having received Orders the same year, returned and became the incumbent of Great Choptank Parish, in Dorchester County, and died there in 1772. Few families in Maryland are better known, or occupy a higher social position, than the descendants of these Maynadiors. THOMAS BACON. IJCj yet living in as profound ignorance of what Christianity really is, as if they had remained in the midst of those barbarous heathen countries from whence they and their parents had been first imported. Being moved, therefore, with compassion at seeing such numbers of poor souls wander- ing in the mazes of sin and error, as sheep having no shepherd, — no kind, tender-hearted Christian to set them right, and considering them as a part of the flock which the Almighty God had placed under my care, I began seriously to consider in what manner I could best discharge my duty to them, and deliver my own soul from the guilt of their blood, lest they should perish through my own negligence." " My first attempt towards it consisted in occasional conversation and advice as often as I happened to meet with any of them, at my own house, or at a neighbour's, or upon the road, &c., and in short familiar exhorta- tions, as opportunity brought a number of them together, at any quarter where I visited their sick, or at their funerals, or marriages. I then determined to preach to them." In carrying out this determination, he preached two Sermons, which he sent to London, and had published, just as they had been delivered, as containing simply the general points of his instructions. One of his reasons for publishing them was that " possibly it might raise a spirit of emulation among his brethren to attempt some- thing in their respective parishes towards the bringing home so great a number of wandering souls to Christ." "In setting forth this scheme of instruction," he says, " I consulted nothing but conscience, and had no other view than the discharge of that duty I so solemnly took upon me, at my being admitted into Holy Orders." Before the end of the third year of his ministry, a chapel was erected for the convenience of those in its neighbourhood, in a distant part of his parish, in which he statedly ministered. But Mr. Bacon did not stop with what he had already done in behalf of the coloured people. In 1749, he preached and published " Four Sermons upon the great and indispen- sable duty of all Christian Masters and Mistresses to bring up their Slaves in the knowledge and fear of God." Having mentioned what he had felt it his own duty to do, and spoken of the greatness and diflSculty of the work, he says, — " I found that I must have help, which put me upon con- sidering where labourers might be had ; and finding, upon the strictest and most impartial inquiry, that it is the indispensable duty of all masters and mistresses to bring up their slaves in the knowledge and fear of God, I was determined to call in assistance from where it was due. I, there- fore, as steward, and in the name of the Lord of the harvest, do press and invite you to work in his vineyard, and do promise, on his part, that whatsoever is right and equal, that shall ye receive." Of these four Sermons, to say that his language is classical, yet plain ; his thoughts fresh, yet well digested ; his positions sustained ably and conclusively, and sometimes eloquently, and that the Gospel is distinctly and faithfully pre- sented, and all with the most intrepid, yet affectionate and Christian spirit, is nothing more than every impartial reader must acknowledge to be true. Would that they were reprinted now, and placed in the hand of every master and mistress in our land ; that, though dead, he might still preach as in days of old. 120 EPISCOPALIAN. But the coloured people in his parish were not the only ones who awakened his interest and enlisted his efforts. About this time, he undertook the getting up of a charity and working school. With this view he preached a Sermon on the subject, which he also published. He then purchased a tract of land for the purpose, about a mile West of the church, on the road to Oxford. A copy of this Sermon, together with a letter explaining his object, was sent by him to Lord Baltimore, who approved of the scheme, and sent him one hundred guineas to assist in erecting the house, and gave directions to the Keceiver General in the Colony to pay him twenty pounds, equal to ninety-three dollars, twenty cents, annually. Lady Baltimore added to this, five pounds, equal to twenty-three dollars, thirty cents ; and his nephew, who was his Private Secretary, the same amount. Bishop Wilson, a short time after, learning what the Baltimores had done, sent him a letter of congratulation and encouragement, and told him that he had fifty pounds more to aid in the instruction of negroes, and that it might be laid out in purchasing a boy and girl, who might be taught and make useful servants for the school. A brick building was erected, and in 1755 a master was employed, and the school removed into it. The school went on encouragingly. The house is still standing. Not long after this, Mr. Bacon was called to mourn the loss of his wife and son ; and his own health and spirits seem to have sufi^ered much. The place where he lived proved sickly, and these were the consequences. How long it was after the death of his wife- before he married again does not appear ; but it must have been in the course of two or three years. He then married one of his own parishioners, — Elizabeth, the daughter of Colonel Thomas Bozman. of Oxford Neck, — a gentleman in easy circumstances. The laws creating parishes, relating to the rights of Clergymen, and the duties of Vestrymen, were all enactments of the General Assembly. Since 1727, no edition of the Laws of Maryland had been published, save the annual Acts of the Legislature in pamphlet form ; and yet that Legis- lature busied themselves at almost every session in making some change in them, till it had become difficult for the Clergy to understand what their legal rights or restrictions were ; and for the Yestry to know what their legal duties were, or what the penalties for neglecting them. As Lord Baltimore's Chaplain in Maryland, — a place which he still held, — it seemed right that Mr. Bacon should set himself to supply for the Church this manifest want ; and this he actually did. But he was not accustomed to do any thing by halves. He undertook, therefore, to give the enact- ments of every General Assembly, from the beginning of the Colony, retaining, however, those which had been repealed, only so far as to give their title, and state the fact of such repeal. In this exhibit the Church would have the whole history of the legislation of the Province respect- ing it ; and the civil community would derive from it an equal advantage. He had not been long engaged in this work, when All Saints' Parish, in Frederick County, became vacant by the death of its Eector, and Mr. Bacon, in 1757, was appointed to it. This was, in point of emolument, decidedly the first parish in' the Province, being worth, it is said, a thousand THOMAS BACON. 121 pounds, equal to four thousand six hundred and sixty-six dollars yer annum. And the giving it to Mr. Bacon showed the estimation in which he was held. It was no small compliment, when there were such men in it as Brogden, Cradock, a!nd others like them. He now removed to his parish, which was on the Western Shore, some seventy miles Northwest of Annapolis. But he went there with impaired health ; and being obliged to be much in Annapolis, in order to complete the work which he had undertaken, he employed a very worthy and accep- table Curate to assist him in his parochial charge. But it was not till the year 1765 that his work made its appearance. It was a large folio of a thousand pages, printed on thick white paper, making a fine, noble volume. It was printed in Annapolis, and it may be questioned whether its supe- rior, in point of mechanical execution, was ever issued from the Ameri- can press. Whatever the utility of this work may have been to the Church, and to the civil community, as a work of Law at the time, it has now a higher value, as a work of History. It is the History of the progress of Maryland from its earliest days, not only as to its legislation, but its civil and ecclesiastical legal provisions and changes, for a hundred and thirty years. I have said that he left Talbot with impaired health ; but the conclusion of his " Laws of Maryland " found his health irrecoverably gone. He lin- gered on indeed for three years, and died on the 24th of May, 1768. He left behind him a widow and three daughters, who returned to Tal- bot. The eldest, Elizabeth, at the request of his brother. Sir Anthony Bacon, of Grlamorganshire, (he having no children,) went to England, to reside with him, and from him, at his death, she inherited ten thousand pounds sterling. She married Greorge Watkins Price, of Brecon, in Wales, whose public charities were so munificent, but left no children. His daughter Rachel married Mr. Rigdon Bozman Harwood, of Talbot County, who left two daughters, now residing in Baltimore. The other daughter, Mary, married Mr. Moses Passapas, of Dorchester County, whose child- ren still reside there. Most respectfully and truly your friend, ETHAN ALLEN. Vol. V. 16 122 EPISCOPALIAlf. WILLIAM HOOPER * 1747—1767. William Hooper was a native of Scotland, was educated at one of the Scotch Universities, and came to this country a short time before his settlement here in the ministry. The West (Congregational) Church, Boston, was gathered on the 3d of January, 1737 ; and on the same day Mr. Hooper was unanimously chosen its pastor. He accepted the call, and was ordained on the 18th of May following, — the Sermon on the occa- sion being preached by himself. It is stated that " all the parts in the solemnities of the occasion were assigned by the church, except one ; — that the ministers and delegates claimed a right in the election of the person to give the Eight Hand of Fellowship." Mr. Hooper continued in the exercise of his ministerial function with great acceptance until the autumn of 1746, when, without having given any previous intimation of his intention, he made a sudden transition to the Episcopal Church. The fact is thus recorded by the Boston Evening Post, of November 24th of that year : — " Wednesday last the proprietors of Trinity Church, in this town, made choice of tlie Rev. Mr. William Hooper (then settled Pastor of the Church in the West part of the town) for their minister, in the room of the Rev. Mr. Addington Davenport, f deceased. Mr. Hooper immediately accepted the call, and is going home for Orders, in the Chester man-of-war, which we hear is to sail to-day or to-morrow. This event is the more surprising, as Mr. Hooper had never signified his Intention to any of his hear- ers ; nor was there the least difference between him and them ; and it is generally thought no minister in the country was ever better respected and supported by his people than Mr. Hooper has been." The ship in which Mr. Hooper embarked for England is said to have sailed on Sunday ; and it was natural that this circumstance should have been used to his disadvantage, especially by those who had no sympathy in the object contemplated by his voyage. After receiving Episcopal ordi- nation from Bishop Benson, in 1747, he returned to Boston, and was in- ducted to the Rectorship of Trinity Church, on the 28th of August, of that year. The first Deacon of the West Church, Mr. James Gooch, accompanied his minister to his new ecclesiastical home, and died, it is be- lieved, in the communion of the Episcopal Church, in 1786, at the age of ninety-three. Mr. Hooper seems to have had an acceptable ministry in Trinity Church, as he had previously had in the West Church ; and the agitation produced by his change of relations was not of long duration. His latter pastoral connection continued twenty years, lacking about four months. He dropped down dead in his garden, without any previous illness, on Tues- * Lowell's Historical Discourses. — Bartol's do. — MS. from Kev. Dr. Hooper. t Addington Davenport was graduated at Harvard College in 1719 ; went to England for Episcopal ordination ; had, for some time, the charge of the Church in Scituate, Mass. j became Assistant Rector of the First Episcopal Church in Boston, (King's Chapel,) April 15, 1737; left thai Church in May, 1740, and became the first Rector of Trinity Church; and died Sep- tember 8, 174fi. Dr. Chauncy, in his '_' Sketch of eminent men of Now England," incident- ally says, — "Mr. Davenport, who married my iirst wife's sister, declared for the Church, and went over for Orders, upon this pretence, — that it was a certain fact that Episcopacy, in the oppropriated sense, was the form of government in the Church from the time of the Apostles, and down along through all successive ages." WILLIAM HOOPEE. 123 day, the 14th of April, 1767. His funeral was attended on Friday fol- lowing, and a Sermon preached on the occasion by the Kev. William Wal- ter, from llev. xix. 13. His wife, who survived him, was the twin sister of John Dennie, an eminent merchant in Boston. He is known to have had five children, — four sons and one daughter. His son William was graduated at Harvard College in 1760 ; migrated to North Carolina ; was one of the delegates from that Province to the Congress that declared our National Independ- ence ; and died in 1790. George was a distinguished merchant in Wil- mington, N. C; was the first President of the Bank of Cape Fear; and died about 1821. Thomas became wealthy by being married to a lady of a large estate in England. Of John, the remaining son, nothing is known. The daughter was married to a Mr. Spence, and was much celebrated for personal beauty. A portrait of the father still remains in possession of the Rev. Dr. Hooper of North Carolina, which represents him as an uncommonly fine looking man. The following is a list of Mr. Hooper's publications : — Christ the Life of True Believers : A Sermon from Colossians iii. 4, 1741. The Apostles neither Impostors nor Enthusiasts : A Sermon from Acts xxvi. 25, 1742. Jesus Christ the only Way to the Father : A Sermon from John xiv. 6, 1742. A Sermon at the Funeral of Thomas Greene, Esq., 1763. In the Boston Evening Post of April 27th, there appears the following obituary notice : — " Of the late Rev. Mn. Hooper. "As a Christian, Divine, and Orator, as versed in general learning and social life, let liis equals describe him. Asa zealous friend, ever intent on alleviating the distress and promoting the happiness of mankind, his memory, and every pledge he has left, will always be de.ar to those whose welfare was particularly dear to him. " \Ve hear that since the death of the Rev. Mr. Hooper, Minister of Trinity Church, mentioned in our last, the gentlemen of that Society have given the surest evidence of their esteem for their most invaluable pastor, by a cheerful and unanimous vote not only to defray the whole expense of his funeral, but also to make an allowance of a hundred and ten pounds sterling to his widow, for the support of herself and family the coming year." FROM THE REV. C. A. BAETOL, D. D. Boston, December 18, 1857. My dear Sir : Your work of piety to our religious fathers, which no monument of respect to political parents or redeemers could exceed, if match, in dignity, gives you a righteous claim to the cheerful service of every pen able to add a single touch to what I hope will last longer than stone columns or brazen tab- lets. In regard to Hooper, of whom you would have me send you a word, I have already, as you are aware, spoken and printed something. Brief as my published tribute is, I have in it eked out the scanty materials which alone a diligent hunting through old books and manuscripts could reveal. I can, there- fore, but repeat in substance a part of what I have said already, and will accom- pany this communication with a letter by Hooper himself, in which, as artists, you know, sometimes do, he has drawn his own speaking likeness, both personal and theological, better than with any fresh paint or modern brush, another hand could present it. If I may judge from the notices of him which I have seen, and still more from his published writings which I have read, he was a man of natural nobility of spirit and vigour of mind, joining clear method of thought to fine eloquence of ]^24 EPISCOPALIAN. diction. That he was highly esteemed by the church with which he had his first pastoral connection there can be no doubt — the great problem in respect to him has always been how he came so suddenly to sunder his relation with them, and enter the Episcopal Church. How fur he may have been attracted by the ecclesiastical form and order which he adopted, I cannot say; but it seems more tlian probable that there were other circumstances that had an influence in bring- ing about the change. He appears not to have been a Oalvinist but an Armi- nian ; and at one time to have given offence to some of the Congregational minis- ters by the too liberal views which he expressed in a Sermon preached at the Thursday Lecture, giving rise to a correspondence between them and himself. This correspondence, which is in the possession of the Historical Society in this city, I have thoroughly examined, and the letter of Hooper which I send you, forms a part of it. From the whole tone of the correspondence I should judge that, though it did not, of itself, produce any permanent alienation of feeling, yet it did indicate a spiritual atmosphere not congenial to a man of Hooper's spirit, and from which, therefore, afterwards, he may have chosen to withdraw. His offence lay in his assertion of a more liberal idea of the Divine attributes than then prevailed ; implying, as his brethren were sensitive to conclude, that, in their doctrines of the Divine Holiness and Grace, they had represented God as being of a severe and revengeful disposition. The letters which they address to him expressly give him credit for education and ability, equal, if not superior, to those of any of his associates; though they insinuate that he was too much of a free-thinker, and had been a too copious reader of the books put forth by the free thought of the times. Whether in the theoretical creed of the new enclosure Hooper found a refuge or not, he no doubt found a larger accommodation of practical liberty. Like the son, whose clear signature is found on the American Declaration of Political Independence, William Hooper, the father, probably, by his act, virtually meant to assert in his person the religious rights of the mind; and his Declaration of a grander Independence came first. I fancy he went according to an old motto, always for things, not words; and it mattered not to him that the Congrega- tionalists stoutly affirmed, nay, generally vindicated and rescued. Freedom, if in any instance he believed they violated her spirit and law. On the whole. Hooper appears to have been marked by qualities uncommonly individual and sincere. In him the Christian was not lost in the sectarian, and the theologian did not overpower the man. His very handwriting was emble- matic of a bold and lofty character. I find something, perhaps, characteristic of him in general, in a curious mixture of strong humour with holy indignation, in his writing in an epistle to a brother minister who was about to admit to the communion-table a woman of whose ill-desert Hooper was cognizant, that it would be more proper to take her to the whipping- post. If he had faults, of which the register does not appear, though some may think his desertion of his people implied them, I am confident they were not those of hypocrisy, or double dealing in any form ; and his summary leave-taking of his charge perhaps only indicated a nature whose first necessity, like that of all great natures, was con- formity between its action and its thought. Ever faithfully yours, C. A. BARTOL. The following is Mr. Hooper's letter, referred to by Dr. Bartol : — " I am very sorry that my Sermon gave uneasiness to you, and the ministers, or even to the least Christian; for I remember the words of our blessed Saviour, — ' Woe to him that offendeth one of these little ones I' — and I assure you I was far from designing to trouble any body. My conscience bears me witness that WILLIAM HOOPER. 125 my groat and only view was to vindicate the Divine character from the false and mean imputations of superstitious men; and did it appear to me that anything I said was unjust to the adorable name of God, and served to lead men astray in their notions or worship of Him, I should be the first to condemn myself; for upon right conceptions of the Supreme Being depend all religion aud morality, all the peace and happiness of mankind. But, upon a serious review of my notes, I must say that I think I have been misunderstood; for nothing appears to me deserving the displeasure of an attentive and candid hearer. As to the impro- priety of some words I may have used in speaking of God, or the mean compo- sure of the discourse, I am ready to confess that both my language and manner of prosecuting a subject are far from being able to bear the examination of but an indifferent judge; but as to the thoughts I delivered, I think they are agreeable to Sacred Scripture, and to the opinions of the greatest, and even of such as are generallj' esteemed Orthodox, divines. Particularly, I do not find the least insinu- ation in any one part of my sermon that the doctrines of grace and holiness, as preached in this country, serve to lead the people into apprehensions of God as a peevish, vindictive or revengeful Being. I do not mention one word of the way of preaching here; and I assure you, Sir, it was not in my thoughts, either at the composing or delivering of the discourse. I have heard gentlemen here preach of the grace and holiness of God in a manner very agreeable to me; and particulaily I am pleased with what I have heard Mr. Colman preach upon these subjects, and with what you write in your letter now before me. As to the behaviour of some, when anything extraordinary comes to pass in the course of nature, or in the government of the world, I say that some men are so weak and ignorant as to think that, upon such occasions, God is in a terrible anger, and so are induced to fear Him ; but they fear Him, not as a just and righteous Judge, but as a cruel, powerful being; not so as to be deterred from their evil courses, but so as to make amends for a debauched and vicious life by idle external observances. But there is not the smallest insinuation that wicked men ought not to be afraid of the Divine judgments, or that the best of men ought not, upon such occasions, to reflect upon and examine their lives, in order to see whether or not they may have had a hand in bringing these calamities upon the world. And I think Pha- raoh and his people, and all wicked men should tremble at the judgments of God, and be induced thereby to fly to his mercy through Christ, and cry for pardon. But what I call superstition is their praying to God for salvation, at the same time that they have no resolution nor heart to forsake their sins; and that there are such people, I believe nobody doubts. As for Moses, his trembling at the foot of Sinai with submission, Sir, I know not if it is mentioned to his honour. I have not time to examine the justness of the thought. It i.s thought a pious and noble sentiment of the Psalmist, — " Though the mountains should be moved, and the hills cast into the midst of the sea," &c. " I read with great satisfaction what you wrote upon the righteousness and mercy of God; and indulge me in saying that I think I am of the same opinion with yourself with respect to these grand points. God is a Being of infinite mercy ; but, at the same time, He never pardons or passes by sin without full satisfaction to his rectoral holiness, as you express it. A God that forgives sin, in such a manner as not to discourage it, or without regard to the honour or glory of his wisdom, righteousness, or justice, is not the God of the Scriptures, or even of natural reason. God is abundant in mercy, and jealous of his righteous- ness. These two, I think, are the sum of his moral character; and they render 126 EPISCOPALIAN. Him sovereignly adorable and sovereignly amiable; and I cannot see anything in my sermon inconsistent with this notion of God. When I say that some men thinli of Him as a vindictive and revengeful Being, I take these words in the sense in which they are used when applied to men, — revenge for revenge' sake, vengeance for vengeance' sake, without the restraint of law or rule. And I think this my meaning is so plain that I wonder any uneasiness should have arisen about it. And I declare to you again. Sir, that I think Scripture, reason, fact, all unite in proclaiming the justice as well as goodness of God; that his justice must be satisfied, as his goodness gratified, when He pardons sinners. I do not think there is any material change in my principles from what they were when I entered into the ministry here, and from what I professed then to be. Why some people think there is, is the different way of expressing myself, which arises from my having been educated in a manner different from the education of this country, and from my having dealt in the reading of other books than what are commonly read at the University here. As to accommodating myself to pious persons and families, I am sorry there should be any complaint in this respect, and will do all I can, through Divine grace, to please them, so far as truth and religion will allow me. The cause of our Divine Redeemer, and many par- ticular reasons, oblige me to do all in my power to serve the people of this town; and it is my daily prayer to God that I may faithfully discharge ray office, and do good to this people, as they have shown kindness to me. If I have not removed your uneasiness by what I have written in a hurry, I hope I shall be able to do it effectually, when I shall have the honour of conversing with you. There is no difference at all, I think, between your sentiments and mine; or if there is, I am apt to think you'll be able to convince me of the justness of j'^our thoughts, you having weighed things with more judgment than I have done. As to some that are hard and uncharitable in their censures, I pray God may forgive them, and help me to do so too. Meantime I earnestly beg your prayers for me at the throne of Divine Grace; for I want wisdom and all other graces becoming my condition and office. I am, very Reverend Sir, Your most obliged and Most humble servant, WILL. HOOPER. Boston, Feb. 13th, 1739 40. SAMUEL AUCHMUTT 127 SAMUEL AUCHMUTY, D. D.* 1747—1777. Samuel Auchmutt was born in Boston in the year 1721. He was a son of Robert Auchmuty, a Scotchman, who migratod to this country in early life. The father was a lawyer by profession, and was, for several years, a Judge in the Court of Admiralty. He died in April, 1750. The son received his education at Harvard College, where he was graduated in 1742. He was admitted to Deacon's Orders in 1747, by the Bishop of London, and received an appointment in the autumn of the same year, from the Venerable Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, to take the place vacated by the removal of the Rev. Mr. Charlton from New York to St. Andrew's Chapel, on Staten Island. Dr. Barclay was then Rector of Trinity Church, and Mr. Auchmuty was appointed to assist him in his parochial duties, and to fill the office of Catechist to the coloured population ; having been recommended to this appointment by the Hon. George Clinton, Governor of the Province. He entered upon his duties, March 8, 1748. In 1752, St. George's Chapel in Beekman Street being opened, Mr. Auchmuty, in connection with the Rector, supplied the two churches. Shortly after, he commenced a Friday Lecture, at St. George's, "for the instruction of both whites and blacks," and "many of both sorts attended him." In August, 1764, — Dr. Barclay having deceased, Mr. Auchmuty was appointed his successor in the Rectorship of the church. Shortly after his induction, St. Paul's Chapel, which had been commenced sometime previ- ous to Dr. Barclay's death, was completed, and was opened for public wor- ship, on which occasion a Sermon was preached by the Rector, of which a copy was requested by the Vestry for publication. In 1766, he received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the Univer- sity of Oxford, and the next year the same honour was repeated by King's College. At the commencement of the Revolution, Dr. Auchmuty felt constrained to espouse the cause of the Royal Government. The American army took possession of the city of New York, April 14, 1776 ; and, in anticipation of this event, many of the Royalists had fled into the country. The Rec- tor's health having become so much impaired as to render it desirable that he should seek a country residence for the summer, he removed with his family to New Brunswick, N. J., where he continued until the British army, under General Howe, took possession of the city of New York, in September following. The fire which, a few days after, swept over so large a part of the city, spared neither the church edifice, nor the Rector's house, nor his personal efi'ects. The loss to the church was about twenty-five thousand pounds sterling, besides the annual rents of a large number of lots, which the fire had rendered temporarily useless. Dr. Auchmuty, being now anxious to return to the city, sought to pass the American lines, but in vain. He was obliged to make his escape by •Berrian's Hist. Trin. Ch.— Hawkins' Miss. Ch. Eng.— Doc. Hist. N. T., IV. 128 EPISCOPALIAN. night, leaving his family behind ; and his health suffered not a little from the exposure to which he was hereby subjected. The separation from his family, however, was but for a short time, as they were allowed to join him as soon as the American army retreated before the British. During the following winter, his health seemed considerably to improve ; but, hav- ing taken a severe cold at the funeral of a parishioner, he was unable to shake it off. His last sermon was preached at St. Paul's, on Sunday, Feb- ruary 23, 1777. On the Tuesday following, he was seized with bilious fever, which terminated in congestion of the lungs. On the next Tuesday, March 4th, he closed his earthly existence, at the age of fifty-five years. His funeral was attended 6n Thursday of the same week, and his remains were interred with every demonstration of respect, under the chancel of St. Paul's Church. Dr. Inglis preached a Sermon on the occasion of his death, from which the following is an extract : " By the death of our worthy and excellent Rector, the public has lost an useful member, you a faithful Pastor, and I a sincere friend. " My intimacy and connection with him for nearly twelve years enabled me to know him well; and 1 can truly say I scarcely ever knew a man, possessed of a more humane, compassionate or benevolent heart. Often have I seen him melt into tears at the sight of distress in others; and the distressed never sought his aid in vain. Lib- eral and generous in his disposition, he seemed happy when alleviating affliction, or when employed in some office of benevolence or friendship. " For nearly thirty years you have enjoyed his ministry ; indeed ever since he entered that sacred office till the day of his death; and the respect showed to him, and the dis- tinction conferred on him, as well as the flourishing state of these congregations, when our present troubles broke out, are incontestible proofs of the fidelity and assiduity with which he discharged the duties of his station. Numbers who, I trust, are now in glory, and many of you who are still living, will, I hope, be seals of his ministry, his crown of rejoicing in the day of the Lord Jesus. " Firmly and conscientiously attached to the discipline and doctrines of the Church of England, he was indefatigable in promoting her interests. " Christianity never appears more amiable and winning than when accompanied by that easy tempered cheerfulness, which rectitude and benevolence of heart naturally inspire. In this he greatly excelled. Such a temper and disposition endeared him to his intimate acquaintances, and enabled him to shine in the tender connections of social life. He was indeed a sincere warm friend, a most afiectionate husband and father. »• ».••»•■»»«•», " On his death bed, he behaved with all the fortitude, patience, and resignation of a Christian; such as the certain hope of immortal life, and true faith in the Redeemer naturally inspire. His understanding was clear, and his senses perfect to the last ; and he joined fervently in prayer not many minutes before he expired; he died with- out a struggle or a groan ." A long notice of the character of Dr. Auchmuty appeared, the week after his death, in Gaines' New York Gazette, with columns reversed, in which he is represented as possessing the same qualities attributed to him in Dr. Inglis' Discourse. One of Dr. Auchmuty's sons, Samuel, entered the British army, and rose to the rank of Lieut. General. He was subsequently honoured with Knighthood, and died in 1822. ^ An allusion is made to the loyalty of Dr. Auchmuty in Trumbull's McPingall, in connection with several other of the lights of the Church of England of that day. 'Squire McFingall is represented as addressing the republicans of the day, and asking : — " Have ye not heard from Parson 'Walter, " Much dire presage of many a halter, " What warning had ye of your duty, " From our old Rev'rend Sam Auchmuty? " From priests of all degrees and metres, SAMUEL AUCHMUTY. ^29 " To our fag-end man poor Parson Peters! " Have not our Cooper and our Seaburt " Sung hymns like Barak and old Deborah; "Proved all intrigues to set you free '' Rebellion 'gainst the powers that be; " For Hell is theirs, the Scripture shows, " Who e'er the powers that be oppose." JEREMIAH LEAMING, D. D * 1747—1804. Jeremiah Leaming was born in Middletown, Conn., in the year 1717. His parents were Congregationalists. He was graduated at Yale College in 1745, and. shortly after joined the Episcopal Church. For two years he officiated as lay reader at Norwalk. In 1747, he was sent by Trinity Church, Newport, to London, to receive Holy Orders, that he might be qualified to teach a school, then lately established, in connection with that church, by means of a legacy that had been left by a wealthy individual for the purpose. He returned in September of that year, bringing his Orders as Deacon and Priest, and also a letter from Dr. Bearcroft, Secre- tary of the Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts, signifying: that the Society approved of Mr. Leaming for a School-master, Catechist, and Assistant Minister. The Vestry being satisfied with his vouchers^ he entered immediately on the duties of these several offices. In 1750, the Eev. James Honyman, who had been the minister of the church for nearly half a century, and with whom Mr. Leaming was asso- ciated, died ; and immediately after, Mr. L. received a temporary appoint- ment to fill Mr. Honyman's place. After a residence of eight years in Newport, he removed to Norwalk, Conn., where he continued twenty-ons years. After this, he was, for eight years, a minister of the neighbouring town of Stratford. Mr. Leaming did not favour the cause of the Colonies during the Revo-- lution ; though he suffered, personally, not a little in consequence of it> "Writing from New York, July 29, 1779, he says, — " On the 11th instant, by the unavoidable event of the operation of His Majesty'Si troops, under the command of General Tryon, my church and great part of my parisB was laid in ashes, by which I have lost every thing I had there — my Airniture, booKs> and all my papers, even my apparel, except what was on my back. My loss on. that fatal day was not less than twelve or thirteen hundred pounds sterling. Although in great danger, my life has been preserved; and I hope I shall never forget the kind providence of God in that trying hour." Besides experiencing some very hostile demonstrations from the mob, he was for a while imprisoned as a Tory, and subjected to hardships, during his confinement, which he supposed were the occasion of bringing on a hip complaint, that made him a cripple for life. In 1783, Mr. Leaming was chosen, by the Episcopal Convention of Con- necticut, to be their first Bishop ; but he declined the office on account of his infirmities ; upon which Dr. Seabury was elected. * Updike's Hist. Narrag. Ch— .Hall's History of Norwalk.. Vol. V. 17 130 EPISCOPALIAN, In 1789, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Columbia College. He spent the last years of his life at New Haven, where he died in Sep- tember, 1804, in the eighty-seventh year of his age. The following is a list of Dr. Leaming's publications : — Defence of the Episcopal Government of the Church, 1766. A Second Defence of the Episcopal Government of the Church, in answer to Noah Welles, 1770. A Sermon at Middletown, before the Convention of the Episcopal Church of Connecticut, 1785. Evidences of the truth of Christianity, 1785. Dis- sertations on various subjects, which may be well worth the attention of every Christian, 1789. It is said of him in Updike's History of the Episcopal Church in Nar- ragansett, R. I., that "he was regular in the performance of ministerial duties, and always set forth the Christian religion in connection with the Episcopal Church ; and well understood the defence of her authority, doc- trines, and worship." His controversial writings, which are still extant, show a mind of much more than common power. FROM MISS MARY L. HILLHOUSE. New Haven, January 4, 1855. Dear Sir: I knew Dr. Learning in the last stages of life. He rises to my mind, the very ideal of age and decrepitude — a small, emaciated old man, very lame, his ashen and withered features surmounted sometimes by a cap, and sometimes by a small wig — always quiet and gentle in his manner, and uniformly kind and inoffensive. His mind had evidently suffered an eclipse before I knew him. His wife had been a friend of my Aunt Hillhouse, and was one of the heirs of the Peck Slip estate, in the city of New York. The wife of Bishop Jarvis was a neice of Mrs. Learning, and the fortune, at the decease of Dr. Learning, went to her son, the late Dr. Samuel Farmar Jarvis. Dr. Learning spent his last years in my aunt's family. He requested it as a favour that she would receive liim on the score of old friendship. I believe his ultra loyalty was requited by some disgraceful outbreaks of the ultra republi- can mob in Revolutionary times ; but I know no particulars. He said little ; spent most of his time in his own room, and never entertained his younger audi- tors with stirring tales of his earlier manhood. He is buried in the lot owned by the Episcopal Church in the New Haven burying-ground. The following is the epitaph upon his tomb-stone: — "Here rest the remains of the Rev. Jeremiah Learning, D. D., long a faithful minister of the Gospel in the Episcopal Church; well instructed, especially in his holy office; unremitting in his labours; charitably patient and of primitive meekness. His public dis courses forcibly inculcated the faith illustrated by his practice. Respected, revered, and beloved in life, and lamented in death, he departed hence. Septem- ber 15, 1804, iEt. 87." I doubt not his name will be found recorded in the book of life; but his earthly pilgrimage, I imagine, affords, at this period, few materials for the biographer. Very truly your friend, M. L. HILLHOUSE. RICHARD MANSFIELD. 1^1 RICHARD MANSFIELD, D. D * 1748—1820. Richard Mansfield was born in New Haven, Conn., in the year 1724. He was the youngest child of Jonathan and Susannah Mansfield, and his father was a Deacon in the Congregational Church. He was very early put to the study of the languages, and was fitted to enter College, when he was only eleven years of age ; though he did not enter until he was fourteen. He graduated at Yale College in 1741 ; and afterwards remained, as a resident graduate, for two years, devoting his time to the further prosecution of his studies, and to general reading. It was during these two years that, in consequence of reading the theological works of some of the divines of the Church of England, he renounced the Congre- gational system, under which he had been educated, and became an Epis- copalian. He was an excellent classical scholar, as was sufficiently indi- cated by the fact that he shared in Dean Berkeley's bounty. In 1744, he took charge of a Grammar School in New Haven, and con- tinued his connection with it three years. In 1748, he crossed the ocean, and was ordained in London, on the 7th of August, by Dr. Thomas Herring, Archbishop of Canterbury. Having received an appointment from the Venerable Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts, he returned to his native country, in 1749, and entered upon the active duties of his ministry. His first charge was Derby, Conn., in connection with West Haven, Waterbury, and North- bury. About the year 1755, he relinquished the care of the churches in West Haven, Waterbury, and Northbury, and from that time till his death, had charge of the churches in Oxford and Derby. Of the parish of Derby he was Rector during the almost unprecedented period of seventy-two years. What Mr. Mansfield's position was during our Revolutionary troubles may be inferred from the following extract from a letter written by him December 29, 1775 :— "After having resided and constantly performed parochial duties in my Mission, full twenty -seven years, without intermission, I have at last been forced to fly from my churches, and from ray family and home, in order to escape outrage and violence, imprisonment and death, unjustly meditated of late and designed against me; and have found a temporary asylum in the loyal town of Hempstead, pretty secure, I be- lieve, at present, from the power of those violent and infatuated people who persecute me in particular, and disturb the peace of the whole British empire. As soon as these sparks of civil dissension appeared, which have since been blown up into a devouring flame, I did (as I thought it my duty) inculcate on my parishioners, both from the pulpit and in private conversation, the duty of peaceableness, and quiet subjection to the King and to the parent State ; and I am well assured that the Clergy in general of the Church in the Colony of Connecticut, with most of whom I have the pleasure of a particular acquaintance and friendship, did the same. That my endeavours and influence have had some effect appears from hence, that out of one hundred and thirty families, which attended Divine service in our two churches, it is well known that a hundred and ten of them are steadfast friends to Government, and that they detest and abhor the present unnatural rebellion, and all those measures which have led to it." •Soott's Historical Sermon.— Hawkins' Miss. Ch. Eng. 132 EPISCOPALIAN. Mr. Mansfield addressed a letter to Governor Tryon, stating it as his opinion that, in ease the King's troops were sent to protect the Loyalists, several thousand men in the three Western counties of the Colony would join them. TJie contents of this letter having been communicated to the Committee of Inquiry, they gave direction for Mr. Mansfield's apprehen- sion ; hut, being apprized of the order, by his friends, he had just time to effect his escape. His own account of the affair is as follows : — " I was forced to flee from home, leaving behind a virtuous, good wife, with one young child, newly weaned fjom the breast, four other children which are small, and not of sufficient age to support themselves, and four others which are adults; and all of them overwhelmed with grief and bathed in tears, and but very slenderly provided with the means of support, wliilst I myself could entertain but very faint hopes, if any at all, considering the badness of the times, of returning back to them in safety. But I hope to be able to maintain some fortitude of mind under adversity, and to improve in tlie virtues of patience and resignation to the disposals of the Divine Providence, which, since my misfortunes, I have found to yield me some comfort and sensible relief." Mr. Mansfield received the Degree of Doctor of Divinity from Yale College in 1792. Dr. Mansfield was obliged to cease preaching, some twenty years before his death, on account of the failure of his voice ; and, from that time, he could only make the attempt occasionally, when extreme necessity required it. His general health, however, remained unimpaired, and his eflforts to be useful among his people out of the pulpit, unintermitted, till a very late period of his life. His death was not occasioned by any particular disease, but was the natural result of the decay of nature. He was con- fined to his house but about four weeks previous to his death, and for a less time to his room and bed. He breathed his last so quietly that it was impossible to fix upon the precise moment of his departure. He died in April, 1820, aged ninety-six, and his Funeral Sermon was preached by the Eev. Philo Shelton. of Fairfield. He was married to Anna Hull, of the same family with Commodore Isaac Hull, of the U. S. Navy. They had thirteen children, nine of whom lived to maturity. One son was graduated, at Yale College, but never studied a profession. Dr. Mansfield published a Sermon on the death of the Rev. John Beach, Newtown ; another on the Evidences of the Christian Religion ; and a third on the Free Grace of the Gospel. FROM THE RET. JOSEPH SCOTT, EECTOB OP ST. MIOHAEL's CHCKOH, NACOATnOK. Naugatdck, Conn., May 8, 1856. My dear Sir : In April, 1834, I took charge of the parish in Derby, Conn., of which the Rev. Dr. Mansfield was Kector seventy-two years. And as he died in April, 1820, it was fourteen years after his decease that I became one of his successors. I found residing there, at that time, three of the Doctor's children, ranging, in their ages, I should judge, from fifty-five to seventy-five, and also some eight or nine grandchildren. And not only his own family, but half of the parish at least, and many persons in the town, and the towns round about, remembered him well. So that what I am to say of him, though not gathered from personal acquaintance, (for I never saw him,) may, 1 believe, be regarded as worthy of entire confidence, coming, as it does, from those who had known him intimately from their childhood. RICHARD MANSFIELD. I33 Dr. Mansfield was a man who, by reason of his profession, his appearance, liis manners, his very long life, and his being out and active to the last, would mal i-i ^'i ! y '. 'i ■■ ' '■■--; I- I ' ' i s LEONARD CUTTING. 225 a feat. On seeing his face, Mr. Cooke exclaimed with much surprise, — 'Why, Cutting, is that you?' The answer was,— ' Cooke, is that you?' They had known each other at the University, and Mr. Cooke was entirely ignorant of his quondam friend's being in this country. Highly interest- ing interviews of course followed ; the result of which was Mr. Cooke's coming to New York, and laying the case before the President of King's (now Columbia) College, and the Rector of Trinity Church. The former wished to have an additional Tutor in the College ; and ample satisfaction being given of Mr. Cutting's fitness for the station, a purse was raised for purchasing the remainder of his time, and he installed' as a College Tutor." This, according to the College Catalogue, took place in 1756 ; but it is stated on another authority that in that year " Mr. Leonard Cutting was appointed Professor of the Greek and Latin Languages and of Moral Phi- losophy, in the place of Mr. William Johnson, (the son of the President,) who had gone to England to take Orders." Whether the Tutorship and the Professorship here referred to were identical, or whether, after having acted for a short time as Tutor, he was advanced to the Professorship, I have no means of ascertaining. In November, 1757, in consequence of the prevalence of the small-pox. Dr. Johnson, who stood greatly in fear of this disease, retired from the city and the duties of the Presidency, and Mr. Cutting had the principal charge of the institution during his absence, which continued until March, 1758. In this year, the College conferred upon him the degree of Master of Arts. In October, 1759, Dr. Johnson was again driven out of town by his dread of the small-pox, and, during his absence, which lasted until May following, the supervision of the College was divided between Mr. Cutting and Mr. Treadwell,* who had then recently been appointed Professor of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy. In October, 1763, Mr. Cutting having in the mean time studied for the ministry, resigned his Professorship, and went to England to take Orders. The Clergy of New Jersey, in December, 1762, made a united request to. the Venerable Society that they would send a Missionary to Piscataqua, a small place in the neighbourhood of New-Brunswick ; and the Society answered the application by annexing Piscataqua to the New-Brunswiek: Mission, and appointing Mr. Cutting to labour in both places. Here be remained until 1766, when he removed to Hempstead, L. I., where he became Kector of St. George's Church, at the same time conducting a classical school of a high order. In 1784, he accepted the Rectorship of the Episcopal Church at Snow Hill, Md. At the end of about a year, he' was called to Christ Church, in Newbern, N. C, and continued to be its- Rector for about eight years, when he returned to the city of New York.. Shortly afterwards he had an apoplectic fit, which terminated his life on the 25th of January, 1794, in the seventieth year of his age. In September, 1792, he was a member of the General Convention, then held in New York, and was chosen Secretary of the House of Bishops. • D ANIBL Treadwell was graduated at Harvard College in 1754 ; wa« chosen to the Profes- sorship of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy in King's College in 1757; and. died lof- small- pox in 1760. Vol. V. 29 226 EPISCOPALIAN. Mr. Cutting's wife, who was a near relative of John Pintard, Esq., of New York, survived him, and died in the year 1803. He had several sons, one of whom, the late William Cutting, Esq., was the father of the present Francis B. Cutting, Esq., an eminent lawyer of the city of New York. Mr. Cutting was of small stature, and slender frame, of amiahle temper and agreeable manners, and fond of social intercourse. In the New York Daily Gazette of the 28th of January, 1794, is the following announcement of Mr. Cutting's death : — " Died on the 25th inst., after a very short illness, the Rev. Leonard Cutting, aged sixty-nine years, — formerly Professor of Greek and Latin Languages in King's (now Columbia) College: then Rector of St. George's Church, in Hempstead, Long Island, and late Rector of Christ Church, Newbern, North Carolina — for learning, probity, unaffected piety, and a generous spirit of independence, respected, esteemed and beloved, equally by his pupils, his parishioners, and his friends." WILLIAM WALTER, D. D. 1764—1800. PPOM THE REV. WILLIAM JENKS, D. D. Boston, June 18, 1858. Kev. and dear Sir : Among the recollections of my early years, few are more pleasant than that of the school-boy friendship of Arthur Maynard Walter, who died at the age of six and twenty, to the deep regret of all his many friends. I was often with him at his father's house, and there- fore with much readiness comply with your desire to gather up and commu- nicate some account of that venerable Rector of Christ Church in this city, whose name is still regarded among us with high esteem. The Reverend William Walter, D. D., was descended of a family which had furnished eminent ministers of the Gospel, two of whom have already been commemorated in your account of the Congregational occu- pants of the American Pulpit. Their place of evangelical labour was Roxbury, where the Rev. Nehemiah Walter commenced his ministry with the truly celebrated Eliot, familiarly known as the Apostle of the Indians, and translator of the Bible into their language. The eldest son of Nehe- miah was the Rev. Thomas Walter, whose education, talents, and acquaint- ance with Cotton Mather, of whom he was a near connection, a nephew, have been mentioned by many of our writers. Dr. Chauncy regarded him as one of the most brilliant of our countrymen. The Rev. Nathaniel Walter, whom you have mentioned only incidentally, was a younger brother of Thomas, born August 15, 1711, and graduated at Harvard College in 1729. He became pastor of the Second Church in Roxbury, where he died in 1776. William Walter was his eldest son, born October 7, 1737. Of his early years I find no account. But, descended and allied as he was, his education must have been conducted in a religious manner, unquestionably. At what age he made a personal profession of his attach- "WILLIAM WALTER. 227 ment to the Gospel I know not ; but lie took his first degree at Harvard College in 1756, at a deeply interesting period in the history of Massa- chusetts. Nor do I find an account of the reasons which withdrew Mr. Walter from his hereditary connection with the Congregational government and worship, and led him to embrace the views and practice of the Church of England. At that period, however, and previously, the case was not singu- lar. The Rev. Dr. Cutler, who had been President or Rector of Yale College, had resigned that office, and been established in Boston, as the Rector of Christ Church, from the 29th of December, 1723. This gen- tleman, in conforming to the Church of England, which he did in the pre- vious year, was joined ' by several of the Tutors [of Yale College] and neighbouring clergy,' observes the late Dr. Eaton, in his Historical Account of Christ Church, and ' in company with Mr. Johnson and Mr. Brown, two of the conformists, he embarked for England,' where he obtained Orders, and was appointed ' Missionary ' to the new church, by the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. Dr. Cutler's reputation was high, and his success great. The other church of King's Chapel was flourishing also, and the connection of the Province with the Mother Country favoured, at this period, the progress of the Episcopal Church. It had the countenance of the Royal Governors, and of the officers of the army, the navy, and the custom-house, and these were then in the zenith of their power. It might be observed, likewise, that a sister of the Rev. Mr. Walter was the lady of Sir Robert Hasilrigge, Bart, a direct descendant of the cele- brated Sir Arthur, of the time of Cromwell ; and also that another of his sisters espoused the eldest son of the Rev. Dr. Mather Byles. This son, having embraced Episcopalianism, " a communion which " says he, " I con- scientiously prefer," (and this apparently before 1768, when he had been invited to Christ Church,) retired to Nova Scotia for a. while, but returned to New England. He then, for a time, officiated at that church, leaving it in 1775 for Portsmouth, N. H. How far these connections contributed to affect Mr. Walter's judgment, and determine his subsequent course, I have no means of knowing. Whether Mr. Walter entered deeply or not into the controversy on the subject of Episcopacy, Tvhich prevailed about this time in New England, does not appear. However, in 1764, in company with Mr. Jarvis, after- ward Bishop of Connecticut, Mr. Hubbard, and Mr. Budd, he sailed for England, to obtain Episcopal Orders from the Bishop of London. Of their pleasant excursions to different interesting places in the Mother Country, while thus engaged, an account was written by one of the num- ber, Mr. Budd, which lies in manuscript before me, obligingly furnished by Mrs. McCleary, a granddaughter of the subject of this sketch. But this account it is not necessary that I should transcribe. Suffice it to say that, on his return, after assisting the Rev. Mr. Hooper for a time, and declin- ing an invitation to the Church at Cambridge, Mr. Walter was, on the 22d of^July of that year, installed Rector of Trinity Church, Boston. This was the third of the Episcopal churches in the capital of Massachusetts, and dates from the year 1734. 228 EPISCOPALIAN. On the 30th of September, 1766, Mr. Walter became the husband of Lydia, daughter of the Hon. Benjamin Lynde, Jr.,* of Salem. This lady was the mother of all his children, — seven in number, and died in 1798. His feelings in regard to this chosen companion, and partner of his joys and cares, were uttered in a Funeral Sermon, which I have had the privi- lege of reading in manuscript, and which is distinguished especially by its deep tone of Christian sensibility. In the delivery of this sermon, as might well be imagined, ' he was at times so overpowered,' it is said by the copyist, ' that he had frequently to pause ere he could proceed, and the manuscript in some places is rendered almost illegible by his tears.' Mr. Walter continued to be the Kector of Trinity Church, until the 17th of March, 1776, when he resigned his charge. He then, with his family, and many others from Boston, accompanied General Howe to Halifax, and it appears from a letter addressed by the Rev. Mather Byles, Jr., (who had married Mr. W.'s sister,) to the Propagation Society, that he was there on the 4th of May ; and on the 16 th of that month his youngest daughter (Harriet Tynge) was born at Shelburne in the same Province ; but though he seems to have left his family there, he himself returned with General Howe and the British fleet, to New York, it is believed in the month of June following — certainly he was there on the 31st of October, as the fact is incidentally mentioned in a letter of that date from the Rev. Charles Inglis, D. D., Rector of Trinity Church, and afterwards Bishop of Nova Scotia, to the Propagation Society. When he went back to Nova Scotia I have no means of ascertaining ; but it appears from dates on some of his manuscript sermons still in existence, that he was officiating at Shel- burne in 1783, '85, '86 and '87. It is known, too, that, previous to his being settled at Shelburne, he officiated for some time as Chaplain to a British regiment. One account states that " he was appointed Dean of Shelburne, with care of the Churches of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia," but the date is not mentioned. His name does not appear in the Reports of the Society for the Propa- gation of the Gospel until 1784 ; and then it is said that he " has sought an asylum in Nova Scotia," and that " the people of Port Roseway" (sup- posed to be Shelburne) have sent over a memorial and petition to the Society requesting their aid to the support of the Rev. Mr. Walter, whom they have unanimously elected their minister, they not being at present in a situation to provide for a minister." In 1788, 1789, and 1790, it appears from the Reports that he was a Missionary at St. George's, Shelburne, Nova Scotia, but from that time his name disappears from the Reports, and the next year, 1791, I find him returned to this country, and making pur- chase of the ancient and venerable mansion in Charter-street, Boston, where he resided for the remainder of his life. This building is said to have been erected by Sir William Phipps, and I well remember its spacious * The aurname of this family was bestowed on Dr. Walter's eldest son, who was a respected citizen and merchant of Boston, where he reared a family of seven children, — his only son, Lynde Minshall, having been the founder and editor of the ' Evening Transcript.' A sister of this gentleman, now deceased, is the lady before mentioned, who has kindly supplied the principal documents for this notice of her grandfather. Lynde Walter, Esq. died August 19, 1844, in the seventy -seventh year of his age. "WILLIAM "WALTER. 229 court-yard and solemn elms, — all prostrated, however, in 1837, and the surface covered with nineteen houses of brick. The honorary degree of Doctor in Divinity was conferred on Mr. "Walter by King's College, Aberdeen, in 1784. On the 28th of May, 1792, Dr. Walter was inducted into the Rector- ship of Christ Church, Boston, and there habitually performed its duties while he lived. Previously to his induction, he had officiated there occasion- ally, and also at the church in Cambridge. In 1796, Dr. "Walter was invited to deliver the Dudleian Lecture in Harvard College. I will transcribe President Willard's letter containing the request, and Dr. "Walter's reply, as the latter is strikingly illustrative of some of the writer's prominent characteristics. President Willard's Letter. Oambbidgb, November, 23, 1796. Rev. and dbae Sir: This is to acquaint you that yesterday the Trustees of the Dudleian Lecture chose you to deliver the Lecture the first week in September next. This election gives me great pleasure, and I hope you will not decline the service. The Lecture for which you are chosen to prepare, is, according to the Founder's Will, " For the detecting, and convicting, and exposing the idolatry of the Romish Church, their tyranny, usurpations, damnable heresies, fatal errors, abominable superstitions, and other crying wickednesses, in their high places : and finally, that the Church of Rome is that Mystical Babylon, that Man of Sin, that Apos- tate Church, spoken of in the New Testament." This article gives great scope for the Lectures; and it has been common for the gentlemen who have delivered this Lecture not to go over the whole ground, but to choose out some one particular exceptionable branch in the religion of the Romish Church to treat upon. I am. Rev. Sir, With sentiments of great esteem. Your very humble servant, JOSEPH WILLARD. Rev. Dr. Walter. Dr. Walter's Reply. Boston, 16 December, 1796. Rbv. and dear Sir: In my letter to you of last week I mentioned that I had many reasons for declin- ing the offer made to me of preaching the next Dudleian Lecture, besides the one there inserted. You will give me leave, at this time, having more leisure, to state them to you, that I may not seem to have declined the offer without sufficient cause. 1. Persons seldom write well on a subject that is not pleasing to them, or in some measure particularly interesting; but the subject of the Dudleian Lecture never struck my mind agreeably : it ever appeared to me to bear the face of uncharita- bleness, and strongly bordering on intemperance of zeal. 2. The terms, though scriptural, are applied by Protestants and Papists to very different objects. When the Protestants apply them to the doctrines and the Head of the Roman Church, the writers of that Church assert that we are wide 230 EPISCOPALIAN. of the mark, and in our application of these Scriptures to them we show more dex- terity than truth, more wit than soundness of reasoning; and who is to determine? 3. Among my acquaintance I have the pleasure to number the Bishop of the Catholic Church, — (as they are pleased to call it,) Dr. Carroll, and the Rector of the Catholic Church in this town, — Dr. Matignon, who are men of learning, of virtue and piety, and who appear to me to be seriously engaged in their Master's service, and zealously exerting themselves to reform the profligate, and make men virtuous — to wound the sensibilities of such gentlemen, by preaching a ser- mon directly launched at the principles and practices of their Church, would be done by me with great reluctance, and with an ill grace. 4. With no great diflSculty I suppose I can bring forward a string of errors, — that is, of opinions and doctrines held by the members of that Church, in my judgment not founded in reason, or supported by the Holy Writings; but how far these erioneous opinions are fatal, when they become heresies, or what here- sies are damnable, are things too high for me — they lie beyond the measure of my understanding to fathom. 5. The Constitutions of the general and individual governments of our country give an equal support to all denominations of Christians, — as well the Catholics as others. It appears to me, therefore, highly improper that a Lecture should be continued, in which the Clergy of one denomination should be set, every fourth year, to investigate the errors, and to rail at the corruptions, of another equally supported by law. Should not we deem it an act of extreme illiberality, and a species of persecution, if a Lecture should be instituted by some rich founder in the Catholic Academy in Maryland, to prove that the Protestants were all Schis- matics and Heretics, and therefore will have their portion with unbelievers? These reasons operated so forcibly on my mind as occasioned me to decline the offer, which I have no doubt was in kindness made to me, of preaching the next Dudleian Lecture; and I am apt to imagine that if the respected founder of that Lecture was now alive, and was about to appropriate by his last will the same sum to support a course of Lectures to be delivered annually at our University, he would certainly not make this one of the subjects, especially not if my benevo- lent ancestor, his friend and minister, was alive also, to advise him. He must feel the extreme impropriety of establishing a Lecture purposely to disturb the har- mony of a respectable body of Christians, whose principles and mode of worship are as strongly supported by the Government as those of any other — whatever his private sentiments might be, he certainly would avoid this public institution. And for the same reason it appears to my mind most fit and reasonable that the Trustees of that Lecture should, as soon as conveniently may be, apply to the Legislature for leave to discharge this subject from the course of the Dudleian Lectures, and to introduce another of universal benefit. The Legislature would manifest their wisdom, liberality, and attachment to the rights of the subject by complying with such application, and I have no doubt would immediately pass an Act for the purpose so as not to hazard the safety of the bequest. Your good- ness will excuse the freedom with which I write, and I do it the more freely, because I am very unwilling to refuse a request which comes from so respectable a Body as the Trustees of the Dudleian Lecture, and particularly from you, with- out reasons of the most substantial kind. With every sentiment of esteem and respect, I am, Rev. and dear Sir, your most obedient and very faithful servant, W. WALTER. Rev. Joseph Willard, D. D. WILLIAM WALTER. 231 In 1798, Dr. Walter delivered the Anniversary Discourse before tlie Massachusetts Humane Society, which was published. Dr. Walter's connection with his last charge seems to have been mutu- ally confidential and happy, and his health and strength were apparently uniform, and sufficient for his ordinary services. But toward the close of November, 1800, having exposed himself repeatedly to the inclemency of the weather, he was attacked with pleurisy and confined to his bed. He had occupied the pulpit for the last time on Lord's Day, the 23d of that month. But he continued to live until the 5th of December, when he expired at about three o'clock, P. M., in the full exercise of Christian hope in God. The closing scenes of his life were described by one of his daughters in a species of journal, and the manuscript is now by me, but too long to be inserted here ; though full of respect and tenderness on the part of the daughter ; and on the side of the dying parent, breathing the wisdom of an experienced Christian and Minister, and the undying spirit of parental love. " On the day subsequent to his death," remarks Dr. Eaton, " the following respectful notice of the event appeared in one of the public newspapers : — ' Yesterday departed this life, in the sixty-fourth year of his age, after a short illness, sustained with the most exemplary resignation and fortitude, the Rev. William Walter, D. D., Rector of Christ Church in this town. In the death of this truly valuable minister, religion mourns the loss of one of her most obedient children and brightest ornaments ; the church over which he presided, a zealous pastor jind her great glory ; humanity, a firm friend ; literature and science, a scholar and support ; his disconsolate children, a fond, instructive and dignified parent ; his other relatives and acquaintance, a most faithful counsellor ; and the poor, an upright steward and benevolent almoner. So exemplary has been his whole life, and so religiously composed his dying hours, that we may well exclaim, ' Let me die the death of the righteous and let my last end be like his.' " Dr. Walter's sick chamber was visited by his friend, the Rev. Dr. Parker, of Trinity Church, by his neighbour, the Rev. and eminently pious Dr. Stillman, of the Baptist denomination, and by the Rev. Doctors Lathrop, Thacher, and Eliot, Congregationalists, who prayed with him and his family. The Funeral was attended, with Masonic honours superadded, on the 8th of December, and a Sermon preached on the occasion by the Rev. Dr. (afterwards Bishop) Parker. I am, Rev. and dear Sir, Yours with respectful affection, WILLIAM JENKS. The following is an extract from Dr. Parker's Sermon, (unpublished) delivered at Dr. Walter's Funeral : — " It is not an easy task to delineate a character in its genuine colours; for, on the one hand, fond afTection, when taking up the pencil, is apt to exhibit one continued blaze of light, with scarce a shade or variety of lines to give distinc- tion, and on the other, the voice of slander is ever ready, and the sting of envy easily provoked. 232 EPISCOPALIAN. " My duty, however, as well as inclination, leads me to observe, with respect to the friend and associate of the early part of my ministerial life, and in whose family I was for some time a resident, that a sense of religion and true piety appeared to be deeply rooted in his heart. Possessed of a. good natural genius, and endowed with ample powers of mind, cultivated by a liberal and polite educa- tion, his friends justly anticipated that his life would be distinguished, and be eminently useful. "Though descended from a race of ancestors, respectable for their learning, and their strict attachment to the Congregational mode of worship, it was not without serious consideration, critical inquiry, and plain conviction, that he con- formed to the Episcopal Church, and became the first Assistant, upon the Green foundation, at Trinity Church, then under the pastoral care of the Reverend and highly esteemed Mr. Hooper. Ilis public services here met with peculiar approbation, and upon the death of that great and good man, he was unani- mously invited to succeed him in the Rectorship of that Church. " In his addresses to the throne of grace, a striking gravity and solemnity were apparent, and he imbibed the spirit of that excellent Liturgy, which con- stitutes so important a part of our worship. His discourses were rational, judi- cious, instructive and popular, recommended by an elocution graceful and emphatical, and at the same time delivered with an energy and pathos becoming the pulpit, and calculated to give every sentiment its due weight upon the mind, and convey it to the understandings and hearts of his hearers. He generally preached the peculiar doctrines of the Gospel, but with an agreeable openness and candour of mind. Firmly fixed in his own principles, which he ever held sacred, he still discovered great liberality and tatholicism to every denomination of Christians. " In his pastoral visits, he was regular, constant and assiduous. Possessed of an easy and fascinating address, he had a peculiar facility and a happy art of pour- ing the balm of consolation into the wounded soul, and of alleviating the dis- tresses of the afflicted. His feelings were tender and sympathetic, and he seldom visited the abodes of poverty and affliction, without administering not only to their spiritual but their temporal wants, either from his own munificence, or from funds appropriated for that purpose. "If we view Dr. Walter in private life, we always found him cheerful — the agreeable and the polite companion, and whenever mixing in the gay and social circle, always supporting a dignity of deportment, and never losing sight of the sacredness of his profession, even in the hours of relaxation. Though the tone of his passions was naturally strong, he very seldom allowed them to "-ain the ascendancy. In domestic life he exhibited an amiable example. Having con- nected himself with an ancient and an honourable family in a nei^-hbourino- county, he lived with the object of his choice more than thirty years, with increasing conjugal affection and esteem, commanding their children and their household to keep the way of the Lord, and to do justice and judgment. " As a son, he was dutiful, obedient and attentive; as a husband, tender and affectionate; as a brother, kind and obliging; and as a friend, faithful, constant and sincere. " The Societies instituted tor the promotion of friendship, charity, and huma- nity, are, by his death, deprived of a firm supporter, and a dignified member. "Though past the meridian of life, the powers of his mind retained their utmost vigour, nor were his sprightliness and activity much abated. His last "WILLIAM WALTER. 233 illness, though distressing, was but of short duration, and was sustained with the greatest fortitude and resignation. Impressed with a lively sense of grati- tude to his all-bountiful Benefactor for the great share of health and the many other blessings he had enjoyed, he displayed a willingness to rise from life, like a satiated guest, and to obey the mandate from on high. When he found that Death was making hasty strides towards him, he contemplated him rather as a friend than as an enemy, and viewed his approaching dissolution with the calm- ness and composure of a Christian philosopher. " His hopes in the promises of the Gospel, and his sole dependance on the all- perfect righteousness of his Redeemer, were his support in the dark valley of death, and he experienced in their full force those Divine consolations he had so often administered to others." The following brief description of Dr. Walter's person and habits has been kindly furnished by a most respectable lady, whose relations aad cir- cumstances have given her the best opportunity of gaining accurate infor- mation on the subject : — " Dr. Walter was a remarkably handsome man, tall and well proportioned. When in the street, he wore a long blue cloth cloak over his cassock and gown; a full-bottomed wig, dressed and powdered; a three-cornered hat; knee breeches of fine black cloth, with black silk hose; and square quartered shoes, with silver buckles. His countenance was always serene; his temper always cheerful; happ3' himself, he communicated happiness to all around him. In the desk, he read the glorious Service, like one inspired — his voice was clear, musical and well modulated. In the pulpit, he was very impressive, though there was great inequality in his discourses, ranging from mediocrity to a high degree of excel- lence. In his family, he was at once loved, reverenced and admired; he was genial in his temper, and instructive and agreeable in his conversation; and sometimes, after returning from his exchanges with his clerical brethren in the neighbouring towns, he would have some' adventure or occurrence to relate to his family, which would not leave it at their option whether or not to keep on a sober face. On one occasion, after ofBciating at Salem, he mentioned that he had buried a Tankard, and married a Pitcher, — referring to two families whom he had visi- ted, — the one in sorrow, the other in joy. His heart, his house, his purse, were ever open to the needy. He was guardian to many orphan children — two of humble parentage were brought up in his family, and provided for at his death. He numbered among his friends and correspondents many distinguished men in the old country, and Sir William Pepperell, Count Eumford, Bishop Carroll, and many others, in the new." Vol. V. 30 234 EPISCOPALIAN. BELA HUBBARD, D. D * 1764—1812. Bela Hubbard, a son of Daniel and Diana Hubbard, was born at Guilford, Conn., on the 27th of August, 1739. His parents were Congre- gationalists, and he, of course, received his early education in that connec- tion ; but, at some period, probably not far from the time of his leaving College, he joined the Episcopal Church. He graduated at Yale in 1758 ; and afterwards passed a year at King's (now Columbia) College, New York, under the theological instruction of its President, — the Rev. Dr. Johnson, who was his intimate friend, and a connection by marriage ; both having originated from the same town. In the autumn of 1763, he crossed the ocean with his friend, Blr. (afterwards Bishop) Jarvis, with the view of obtaining Holy Orders. He arrived in England in December, and remained there till April following. He was ordained Deacon by the Rt. Reverend Dr. Frederick Keppel, Bishop of Exeter, in the King's Chapel, London, on the 5th of February, 1764 ; and Priest, by the Rt. Reverend Dr. Charles Lyttleton, Bishop of Carlisle, in St. James' Church, Westminster, on the 19th of the same month ; and on the 28th he was licensed by the Rt. Reverend Dr. Richard Osbaleston, Bishop of London, to perform the office of Priest in New England. On his return from England, Mr. Hubbard officiated at Gruilford and Killingworth till the year 1767 ; when the Venerable Society for Propa- gating the Grospel in Foreign Parts appointed him their Missionary at New Haven and West Haven. He divided his labours equally between these two places until the Revolution; after that period, until 1791, he gave but one fourth of his time to West Haven ; and from that time till the close of his ministry, his services were confined almost entirely to New Haven ; though he still occasionally preached in the neighbouring parishes. Mr. Hubbard remained loyal to the King of Grreat Britain during the Revolutionary struggle. His feelings on this subject are indicated in an extract from a letter which he addressed to the Venerable Society ; and which, though it preceded, by several years, the actual opening of the Revo- lution, has reference to the state of things which was then rapidly tending towards that result. The letter is dated "New Haven, January 10, 1769," and the extract is as follows : — ' ' I can say it with sincerity that I have faithfully endeavoured to discharge my duty as a servant of the Society, and as a Minister of Jesus Christ ; and I trust that my labours in the vineyard have not been altogether in vain. I have not failed to exhort them, in these unhappy times, to let the world see that Churchmen fear God and honour the King; to do their utmost to live peaceably with all men ; not to use their liberty for a cloak of maliciousness, but as the servants of God; and I know of no dis- position in any one member of our excellent Church to go over to the party of the Sons of Liberty, (though falsely so called,) who have given so much trouble to the Mother Country, and to all in her Colonies who are friendly to the cause of the nation." But, notwithstanding Mr. Hubbard's continued loyalty, he seems to have conducted himself with so much discretion and inoffensiveness during the • MS. from his son, Hon. T. H. Hubbard.— WhiOoek's Fun. Serm.— Hawkins' Miss. Ch. Eng. BELA HUBBAED. 235 Revolution, that he was allowed to pursue the duties of his vocation with- out any very serious embarrassment. While the British army were in possession of New Haven, their officers treated him and his family with respect and kindness, forbidding any of the soldiers to enter his house, or in any manner to molest the premises ; and, in consequence of this exemp- tion from troublesome visits from the soldiery, he was enabled to save a considerable amount of property to the suffering inhabitants of the city. Mr. Hubbard continued to receive a salary of sixty pounds per annum from the Society by which he was employed, until the Peace in 1783, when he became entirely dependant on his parishes. Though his salary was, for many years, small, the liberality of his parishioners and the exem- plary economy of his wife still rendered him comfortable ; and as his peo- ple increased in numbers and in wealth, his salary became more ample. In 1804, he was honoured with the Degree of Doctor of Divinity from Yale College. In 1811, the Rev. Henry Whitlock* became Assistant Minister in Tri- nity Church, of which Dr. Hubbard was Rector. Dr. H., however, con- tinued to preach, occasionally, until his last illness, which was of many months duration. He died on Sunday, December 6, 1812, in the seventy- fourth year of his age. His Funeral Sermon was preached by his Assist- ant, the Rev. Mr. Whitlock, and was published. The burial service was performed by the friend of both his early and later years. Bishop Jarvis. He was married in May, 1768, at Fairfield, Conn., to Grace Dunbar Hill, .who was born in the Island of Antigua, in the year 1747. She sur- vived her husband about eight years, and died in 1820. Two of the sons were graduates of Yale College — one of them {Bela) graduated in 1792, was Judge of the Parish of Assumption, a large District in the State of Louisiana, and died in 1841. The other {Thomas Hill) graduated in 1799, entered the Profession of Law, and has been a member of Congress. He, with one sister, the widow of the late Hon. Timothy Pitkin, are (1855) the only surviving members of the family.t FROM THE HON. JOHN WOODWORTH. Albany, Junel, 1855. Dear Sir: My recollections of Dr. Hubbard of New Haven go back to my col- lege life. I think I became acquainted with him first about the year 1786; but after my graduation, my acquaintance with him became much more intimate, in consequence of my being married to a daughter of his brother, who resided at New Haven. On my visits there, in subsequent years, I was often at his house as a guest, sometimes heard him preach, and always received from him a cordial welcome. The time has been when there were others who could doubtless have • Hbkbt Whitlock was graduated at Williama College in 1798; and was ordained Deacon by Bishop ProToost, October 12, 1800, and Priest in 1802. He was settled at Norwalk and Wilton, Conn., from 1804 to 1811, when he was called to New Haven. He died in the winter of 1814-15, at Fayetteville, N. C, on his way farther South, for the benefit of his health, at the age of thirty-seven. He was much esteemed as a man and a minister. I remember to have heard my venerable colleague. Dr. Lathrop of West Springfield, say, that Mr. W. being on a visit in his parish, (Congregational,) he invited him to preach, and he readily consented to do so, — not, however, dispensing altogether with his own forms. A Sermon which he preached before the Connecticut Convention in 1806, was published in the Churchman's Maga- rine for 1807. , . , ^ f The Hod. Thomas H. Hubbard has deceased since this sketch was written. 236 EPISCOPALIAN. described him more minutely and accurately than I can; but so £ew, if any, of that class now remain, that I am not disposed to decline the request you have made of me. Dr. Hubbard was small in person, but well proportioned. The expression of his countenance was more intensely benevolent than that of almost any person whorai I ever met. His movements were easy and natural, and his manners every way such as might have been expected from his long continued intercourse with the most cultivated people of his day. He was not only uncommonly sociable, but I should say was a remarkably good talker. He was alwaj's at home in any circle into which he was thrown, and by his general intelligence and bland demeanour, as well as his agreeable mode of communication, never failed to make himself a favourite of the company. He was as far as possible from being ostentatious or assuming, but there was a kindly and graceful freedom about his social intercourse, that was felt as an attraction by every body. I have spoken of Dr. Hubbard's remarkably benevolent face; but his face was only a faithful reflection of the qualities of his heart. He was just as amiable and kind hearted as his countenance would have led you to suppose. Indeed, I doubt whether a more benignant and kindly spirit ever animated a human form. This was undoubtedly the most prominent feature of his character — it controlled him in all his relations, and gave a complexion to all his conduct. Wherever there was human wretchedness to be relieved, he was on the alert to act the part of an angel of mercy. The sick and afflicted among his own people looked up to him as the kindest of friends, as well as the most attentive of pastors; and there was no sacrifice that he was not ready to make to dispel the night clouds of sorrow from the humblest dwelling. When that fearful scourge, the Yellow Fever, visited New Haven in 1795, and the greatest alarm and agitation prevailed, and multitudes were falling on every side. Dr. Hubbard not only remained at his post, but shrunk from no sacrifice, no exposure, incident to his office as a helper and a comforter. The noble disinterestedness, the perfectly self-sacrificing spirit, which he manifested during that scene of distress and desolation, was a subject of general remark, and rendered his name fragrant with other denomina- tions besides his own. Dr. Hubbard could not be considered a brilliant man; but he was distinguished for sound judgment, and sober views of things, and was by no means lacking in vivacity of intellect. His opinion on general subjects was always regarded with much deference. He exerted an extensive influence in his denomination, and enjoyed, in an unusual degree, the confidence of the community at large. I cannot say that he was greatly distinguished as a preacher, and yet his ser- mons were well-wrought, and carefully and neatly written. In his theological views, I suppose him to have been of about the same school with Archbishop Tillotson. His discourses were, I think, little of a doctrinal character, but were more commonly devoted to the inculcation of some moral duty. His manner was not particularly animated; but it was simple and unpretending, and had in it much of apparent sincerity. His voice was sufficiently loud to fill any ordi- nary church. He was passionately fond of music, and was sometimes almost rapt into an ecstasy under its influence. I must not omit to say that he was considered an excellent reader of the Service: here there was great significance in his pauses and inflections, and there was a solemnity and earnestness in his manner which certified to every one that his heart was in every word that he uttered. Dr. Hubbard was not only an honest, but an earnest and uncompromising. Episcopalian. I suppose his type of Episcopacy was about the same with that of Bishop Seabury. But, at the same time, he was incapable of cherishing any other than kind feelings towards other denominations. While he never sacrificed his convictions for the sake of union, he was disposed to cultivate union just so BELA HUBBARD. 237 far as he could, in consistency with his convictions. He had a friendly look and a friendly word for every body; and every body in turn, who knew him, how much soever they might differ from him in opinion, at once honoured him for his firmness, and loved him for his kindness. I am, with sincere regard, yours, JOHN 'WOOD'VrORTH. RT. REV. ABRAHAM JARVIS, D. D* 1764—1813. Abraham Jarvis was born in Norwalk, Conn., May 5, (0. S.) 1739. His father, Samuel Jarvis, removed thither from Huntington, L. I., and became an Episcopalian about the year 1737. He had ten children, of whom the subject of this sketch was the ninth. This son early exhibited a taste for learning, and was sent to Stamford, where his eldest brother was settled as a farmer, that he might perform some labour on the farm, and at the same time pursue his studies under the Rev. Noah Welles, the Congregational Minister of the place, who was in high repute as a classical teacher. He entered Yale College at the age of eighteen, and graduated in 1761. Shortly after he left College, the parish at Middletown being vacant, he was invited to officiate there as a lay reader : he accepted the invitation, and, while discharging the duties of the place, was prosecuting his theo- logical studies with reference to taking Orders. As he had not had the small-pox, which then occasioned great terror, he went to Elizabethtown, N. J., to be inoculated, and resided, for some time, in the family of the Rev. Dr. Thomas Bradbury Chandler. In the autumn of 1763, he sailed for England, and arrived in London in January, 1764. The Bishop of London being very infirm, he received Deacon's Orders from Dr. Keppel, Bishop of Exeter, in King's Chapel, London, February 5, 1764, and Priest's Orders from Dr. Lyttleton, Bishop of Carlisle, in St. James' Church, Westminster, on the 19th of the same month. He left England on the 20th of April, arrived at Boston in June, and on the 1st of August following was settled as Rector of Christ Church, Middletown, on a salary of seventy pounds sterling per avnum. For ten years, Mr. Jarvis continued very happy in all his relations, and was the minister of a united and flourishing parish. But when the War of the Revolution commenced, he began to be subjected to great incon- veniences and sore trials. As he did not regard the Declaration of Inde- pendence as dissolving the ecclesiastical obligations of the Episcopal Clergy, he still felt himself bound by the principles of canonical obedi- ence. On the 28d of July, 1776, a Convention of the Episcopal Clergy of Connecticut was held at New Haven, (Mr. Jarvis presiding,) at which it was resolved to suspend all public worship in their churches, as it would be unsafe to continue the reading of the entire Liturgy. • Evergreen, II. — Blake's Biog. Diet. — MS. from Rev. T. F. Bavies, Jr. 238 EPISCOPALIAN. In July. 1780, Mr. Jarvis was invited to the Rectorship of St. John's Church, Providence, R. I.; but, though the offer, in a pecuniary point of view, was advantageous, he preferred to remain with his charge at Mid- dletown. Shortly after the return of Peace, the Episcopal Clergy of Connecticut resolved to send ono of their number to England, with a view to his obtaining Consecration as Bishop ; and most of the official papers sent to England, on this occasion, in the name of the Clergy, were written by Mr. Jarvis. The result of this was that Bishop Seabury was consecrated by the Bishops of the Scottish Episcopal Church ; and, on his first meet- ing with the Clergy at Middletown, in August, 1785, Mr. Jarvis was appointed to recognise him, in behalf of the Body, as their duly accredited Bishop. In consequence of some difficulties being likely to arise respecting a union of the Scottish and English succession, a special Convention was held by Bishop Seabury at Wallingford, on the 27th of February, 1787, at which Mr. Jarvis was requested to go to Scotland "to obtain Conse- cration, that the Episcopal office" might "be canonieally transferred." Mr. Jarvis did not immediately give his answer, and in the mean time a change of circumstances occurred that superseded the necessity of prose- cuting the mission. In 1796, Mr. Jarvis delivered a Discourse before the Convention, com- memorative of Bishop Seabury, who had died a short time before. At the same Convention, he was appointed to succeed Bishop Seabury, but declined the appointment. Being, however, unanimously elected, a second time, in June, 1797, he was induced to accept the office, and was conse- crated, in October following, at New Haven, by Bishop White of Penn- sylvania, — Bishop Provoost of New York, and Bishop Bass of Massachusetts being present and assisting. He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Yale Col- lege in 1796. It had been previously conferred upon him by Bishop Sea- bury, who claimed the right of conferring degrees in Divinity, in virtue of his Episcopal authority. Bishop Jarvis continued Rector of the Church at Middletown two years after his Consecration. In 1799, he resigned his charge, and removed to Cheshire, where he had previously placed his son at the Episcopal Acad- emy under the care of Dr. Bowden. In 1803, he removed to New Haven, for the purpose of entering his son at Yale College. On the 6th of December, 1812, he suffered a severe affliction in the loss of his early friend and brother. Dr. Hubbard, the Rector of the Church in New Haven. But he survived him only a few months. He had been afflicted with asthma from early life, which had disabled him for a long time for much active service, and which finally brought his life to a close. He died on the 3d of May, 1813, after a severe illness of a few days, having nearly completed his seventy-fourth year. The day previous to his death, he received the Lord's Supper with great apparent devotion, and his departure was marked by the utmost tranquillity, like gently falling asleep. On the 25th of May, 1766, he was married, by the Rev. Dr. Samuel Auchmuty, Rector of Trinity Church in New York, to Ann, the eldest ABRAHAM JARVIS. 239 daughter of Samuel Farmar, a merchant of that city. She died during his residence at Cheshire, November 4, 1801. By this marriage he had two sons ; one of whom died in infancy, the other was the Rev. Dr. S. F. Jarvis, who attained to no small literary and professional distinction. On the 4th of July, 1806, he was married in Trinity Church, New York, to Mrs. Lucy Lewis, widow of Nathaniel Lewis, of Philadelphia, a lady of great excellence, who contributed much to the comfort of his declining years. Bishop Jarvis published a Sermon on the death of Bishop Seabury, 1796, and a Sermon on the Witness of the Spirit. FROM THE REV. DANIEL BURHANS, D. D. POTJQHKEEPSIE, N. Y., April 15, 1851. My dear Sir : I cheerfully undertake the task you have assigned me, and if I fail to meet your expectations or wishes, I doubt not you will easily find an apology for me in my advanced age and often infirmities. Bishop Jarvis, with whom 1 had an acquaintance of pretty long standing, had a commanding personal appearance. He was well proportioned, a little above the ordinary height, bland and dignified yet simple in his manners, with an open, fair countenance, which, however, could assume sufficient sternness and authority, when occasion required. lie had a beautiful head of hair, somewhat inclined to curl, which he retained in old age in great perfection; and after it became gray, or rather white, it had the appearance of an old fa.shioned wig, and added gravity to his well proportioned features. In the discharge of his professional duties, in the chancel and the pulpit, especially in the former, there was a solemnity in his voice and a dignity in his manner, equally free from fanatical cant and pharisaic formality, and admirably fitted to produce devout and reverential feelings in the minds of his hearers. His preaching was generally didactic, and occasionally metaphysical; though, in the application of his discourse, he was often very persuasive. Towards the close of his life, there was a slowness in his delivery, which had somewhat of the effect of a hesitancy for words. This was occasioned by the asthma, — a disease which sorely afflicted him in his latter years, and for a considerable time before his death, seldom allowed him to preach. His stjde resembled, in some respects, that of TiUotson, and in others, that of Sherlock. On practical sub- jects he was sufficiently sententious; but on subjects of a more speculative kind, and especially on Scholastic Divinity, he was sometimes prolix to a fault. He had an uncommon tact at public business, and in a talent at drafting petitions, memorials, &c., had few, if any, superiors. Bishop Jarvis was emphatically a man of the old school. In his religious creed he was an old fashioned Churchman, of the Non-jurors; and as a gentle- man, he was what might have been looked for in good English society, three quarters of a century ago. With his acquaintance he was sufficiently commu- nicative, but in the company of strangers was generally somewhat reserved. He was distinn-uished for his neatness, and considerate regard to propriety and delicacy, especially in the company of ladies. For several years, he was in the habit of using the pipe. On one occasion, while he resided at New Haven, he found several ladies from Charleston, S. C, at a public house, — the mothers of young men who were about to graduate at Commencement, and he invited them to his house to tea. They accepted the invitation; and after tea, the Bishop withdrew to an adjoining room, to regale himself with the fumes of his favourite weed. The door not having been quite closed, he heard a sudden shriek from 240 EPISCOPALIAN. one of the company; and, on opening the door, to his utter astonishment, saw one of the ladies lying prostrate on the carpet. On inquiring for the cause, he ascertained, to his great grief, that it was nothing more or less than the smoke from his pipe. He never smoked after this occurrence, and frequently spoke of it with deep regret and mortification. The Bishop had a tenacious memory, and had treasured up a large stock of anecdotes, sketches of personal history, &c., which he was not at all averse to giving forth, as opportunity ofiered, or occasion required; and towards the close of his life, it must be acknowledged that he sometimes did it at the expense of being a little tedious. This, however, I think, may truly be said of him, — that he never told a foolish story, or one of doubtful moral tendency, or ever intro- duced a passage of Scripture in trivial conversation, — much less to excite laughter. I recollect an incident illustrative of his shrewdness, and the case with which he could give to a question a prompt and effective reply. During his residence in New Haven, a young clergyman from the South spent a Sunday with him, and was engaged to ofBciate in the morning. [By the way, what we call the Ante Communion Service is, at the South, frequently omitted.] On their way to the church, the clergyman whispered in the ear of the Bishop, that, as he had a long sermon, he would like, with his permission, to omit the Second Service. The Bishop paused a moment, and laying his hand upon his young friend, said, " My dear Sir, if you have any thing preferable to the Ten Commandments, writ- ten by the finger of God, and the inspired Gospel and Epistles of Christ and his Apostles, by all means omit the Service. But if you have not any thing better, hold fast the form of sound words." The result was that he went through the whole Service. I may add that the Bishop was most exemplary in his domestic relations, and maintained the highest character for integrit)' in all his intercourse with his fellow men. He adhered rigidly to order and discipline, both in Church and in State. His character commanded general respect wherever he was known. May the Lord prosper you in your important work, is the prayer of your affectionate friend, D. BTJRHANS. RT. REV. SAMUEL PROVOOST, D. D * 1766—1815. Samuel Provoost was a descendant of William Provoost, of a Hugue- not family, who made his escape from Prance at the time of the massacre of St. l$artholomew, and came to New York, then New Amsterdam, in the year 1634. He was the son of John and Eve (Rutgers) Provoost, and was iDorn in the city of New York, on the 26th of February, (0. S.,) 1742. After going through his preparatory course, he entered as one of the early students of King's (now Columbia) College, then occupying a frame build- ing in Trinity Church yard ; and was one of a class of eight that graduated at its first Commencement, in the year 1758. * Berrian's Hist. Trin. Ch. N. T. — Protestant Churchman, 1844. — Evergreen, I. MS. from Or. B. Rapelye, Esq. SAMUEL PROyOOST. 241 His ancestors, for several generations, had belonged to the Reformed Dutch Church. At what time, or under what circumstances, he joined the Episcopal Church, is not known ; but it has been supposed that he may have been somewhat influenced in making the change, by pursuing his col- legiate course under President Samuel Johnson, who was a vigorous advo- cate of Episcopacy, and by afterwards residing, for some time, at an English University : and it has been suggested also that a reason for his leaving the Dutch Church might have been the pertinacity with which the Consistory refused to have part of the services conducted in the English language. In the summer of 1761, he embarked for England. He arrived at Fal- mouth in September, and in November following entered Fellow-Com- moner of St. Peter's College, Cambridge. Though, as was common at that time in the English Universities, he mingled freely in scenes of gaiety, he was by no means lacking in due attention to his studies. His father allowed him a private tutor, — the celebrated Dr. Jebb, with whom he formed an intimate friendship, and continued in correspondence as long as Dr. J. lived. Soon after he commenced his course at Cambridge, he seems to have resolved on entering the ministry, and to have kept that in view in the subsequent prosecution of his studies. On the 3d of February, 1766, he was admitted to the Order of Deacon, at the Chapel Royal of St. James' Palace, Westminster, by Dr. Richard Terriok, Bishop of London ; and on the 25th of March following, was admitted to Priest's Orders, at the King's Chapel, in Whitehall, by Dr. Edmund Kean, Bishop of Chester. While at Cambridge, Mr. Provoost became an intimate friend of his fellow-student, Benjamin Bousfield, of a wealthy Irish family, who after- wards became distinguished as a member of the Irish House of Commons,, and even ventured to engage in a controversy with Edmund Burke. On a; visit of his widowed mother and her daughter Maria to Cambridge, while the two friends were there, a mutual attachment was formed between this young lady and Mr. Provoost, and they were married on the 8th of June, 1766, in St. Mary's Church, Cambridge, by one of the Senior Fellows of Trinity College. Soon after his marriage, Mr. Provoost returned to New York with his bride, and in December, 1766, accepted a call to become Assistant Minis- ter of Trinity Church, which embraced also St. George's and St. Paul's Chapels ; the Rev. Samuel Auchmuty being Rector, and the Rev. John Ogilvie and the Rev. Charles Inglis, Assistant Ministers. In 1768, Mr. Provoost visited his wife's relatives in Ireland. He returned the following year, and, shortly after, a difficulty arose between him and the Vestry, the result of which was a dissolution of his connection: with Trinity Church. One ground of this difficulty was, that a portion of' his hearers charged him with not being sufficiently evangelical in his preaching. Another was that his views of the contest which was then, just opening between the Colonies and the Mother Country, were not in. accor^ dance with those of the majority of his parish, and were regarded, as indi- cating disaffection towards the Grovernment, and a tendency to rebellion. Suffice it to say that, under all the circumstances of the ease,. Ho thought. Vol. V. 31 242 EPISCOPALIAN. proper to quit the parish, and soon after, the city ; removing to a small farm which he purchased at East Camp, then in Dutchess County, N. Y. He settled here with his family, in the latter part of 1770, or the begin- ning of 1771 ; from which time till the close of the llevolutionary War, he seems to have lived in perfect retirement, occupying himself chiefly with literary pursuits. Mr. Provoost's political opinions, which were adverse to his comfort and usefulness in the city of New York, operated very differently in other parts of the country, and especially in the neighbourhood in which he lived. His name was placed, by some of the leading politicians of the day, at the head of a list of persons who were to be delegates to the Provincial Congress ; but he could not be induced to accept the office. He had also the oiFer of a settlement over several parishes, where his politics would have been rather a recommendation ; but he uniformly declined, on the ground that he was unwilling to appear to avail himself of his politics for act- ing towards his brethren who differed from him, in a manner that " might be imputed to mercenary views, and an ungenerous desire of rising on their ruin." He also declined the office of Chaplain of the Convention, which met at Kingston in 1777, and formed the first Constitution of the State of New York. After the British had burnt Esopus, in September, 1777, Mr. Provoost, and a number of his neighbours, hearing that a detachment of English sol- diers had landed on their side of the river, armed themselves for the defence of their property, and set out in search of the enemy. They found themselves in a situation, however, in which the concealment of their per- sons became essential, if not to the safety of their lives, at least to their security from capture. Their discretion prevailed, and they experienced no injury. On the termination of the War, Mr. Provoost's condition and prospects underwent a favourable change. It was claimed by those members of the church, who had been driven from their homes during the War, that no election of Vestrymen, while the city was in possession of the enemy, was valid ; and the question being referred to legal adjudication, it was decided in their favour. The consequence of this was that, early in the year 1784, a new Vestry was chosen, which unanimously elected Mr. Provoost their Rector. He accepted the office, and shortly after returned with his family to the city. One effect of this was that his property was restored to him ; and from this time he was not only relieved from pecuniary embarrass- ment, but was rendered so independent that he was able to indulge the disposition he had always had for a generous hospitality. In November, 1784, Mr. Provoost was appointed a Regent of the Uni- versity of the State. On the removal of the Continental Congress from Trenton to New York, in November, 1785, he was elected its Chaplain. After the re-organization of the Episcopal Church in the United States, subsequently to the Revolution, Mr. Provoost, on the 13th of June, 1786, was chosen Bishop of New York ; and, three weeks after, was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity by the University of Pennsylvania. Early in November following, he embarked, in company with Dr. William White, Bishop elect of Pennsylvania, for England, with a view to obtain SAMUEL PROVOOST. 243 Consecration to the Episcopate. They were, accordingly, consecrated on the 4th of February, 1787, at Lambeth Palace, by Dr. John Moore,— Archbishop of Canterbury, — the Archbishop of York, the Bishop of Bath and Wells, and the Bishop of Peterborough participating in the Consecration. Their object being thus accomplished, they returned, shortly after, to this country, and reached New York on the 8th of April. Bishop Provoost received, on his return, a hearty welcome from all denomi- nations. At the organization of a new Congress, under the present Constitution, in 1789, Bishop Provoost was elected Chaplain to the Senate of the United States. In August, 1799, Mrs. Provoost died, after a lingering illness ; and, in the ensuing July, he followed to the grave a favourite son, who died a very distressing death ; and another son, the only one who survived, occasioned him great unhappiness by his erratic behaviour. In the mean time, his own health had become seriously impaired, and he was induced, on the 8th of September, 1800, to resign the Kectorship of Trinity Church, after having held it nearly seventeen years. His exercise of the Episcopal office continued till the 3d of September, 1801. The Convention was then in session, over which he presided till the moment he made his resignation verbally, and retired. The resignation was accepted and a successor chosen ; though the House of Bishops, when the matter came before them, took care to say that they judged it incon- sistent with the sacred trust committed to them to recognise the Bishop's act as an effectual resignation of his Episcopal jurisdiction ; and that, while they were ready to consecrate a person, to render him competent to all the Episcopal duties, it must be explicitly understood that they should consider such person as Assistant or Co-adjutor Bishop, during Bishop Provoost's life. The first Consecration of a Bishop in which Bishop Provoost took part, was that of the Rev. Thomas John Claggett, D. D., for the Church in Maryland, in September, 1792 ; and the last was that of the Eev. John Henry Hobart, D. D., for the Diocese of New York, in May, 1811. His first Ordination was admitting to the Order of Deacon, Pilchard Channing Moore, in July, 1787, and his last was admitting to the Priesthood the Rev. John Henry Hobart, in April, 1801. Bishop Provoost suffered occasional attacks of an apoplectic character, in one of which he died very suddenly, on the 6th of September, 1815, aged seventy-three years and six months. His Funeral was numerously and respectably attended in Trinity Church, where an appropriate Sermon was delivered by the Eev. William Harris, Rector of St. Mark's Church. FROM GEORGE B. RAPELYE, ESQ. .. New Tokk, June 80, 1855. Dear Sir : The generation with which Bishop Provoost was more immediately connected, have all passed away. I am among the few who remember him, as a man advanced in life when they were young; and though my recollections of him are neither so minute or extended as might be desirable for your- purpose, yet such as they are, they are quite at your service. As I was brought up in the 244 EPISCOPALIAN. Episcopal Church, I occasionally saw hira in private, sometimes heard him preach, and once at least was present when he conferred Orders. I have a distinct recol- lection of his appearance and manners, and my impressions in respect to his character, though formed more from the testimony of others than from personal observation, cannot, I think, be wide of the truth. Bishop Provoost, as I remember him, was rather above than below the medium height, and was somewhat inclined to corpulency, though he had, on the whole, a fine commanding person. Ilis face was round and full, and had something of the 6o?it)ioa?if about it; which was not at all strange, considering what were the social and festive usages of that day. He had a strong, intelligent cast of countenance, which was well fitted to command attention and respect. As might have been expected from his early training, and from his having always been accustomed to move in the higher circles, his manners were those of an accom- plished gentleman — he was graceful, social, self-possessed, and thoroughly acquainted with all the forms of polished society. I am not aware that Bishop Provoost was ever considered as greatly distin- guished for his intellectual powers; and yet I think he was always looked upon in this respect as considerably above mediocrity. He was a highly educated man, having enjoyed the best opportunities for improvement that could be furnished either in this country or in Great Britain. He was a fine classical scholar, and was thoroughly versed in Ecclesiastical History and Church Polity. Besides being well acquainted with the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, he was a proficient in French, German, and Italian; and it has been said that, as a literary recreation, he made a new version of Tasso. He had a, taste also for the Natural Sciences, and especially for Botany. While he was at the University of Cambridge, he (gave much attention to this branch, and formed an extensive index to the elabo- irate Historia Plantarum of John Bauhin, whom he calls " the Prince of Botanists " in a written leaf of his own copy of that work. He possessed a large library, part of which was given by his son-in-law, the late Hon. C. D. Colden, to the New York Hospital, and a part to the New York Historical Society. As a preacher. Bishop Provoost's chief attractions consisted in a fine, impo- sing appearance, a good voice, and a felicitous command of language. He had little gesture, and generally no great animation; though there were occasions on which his mind became considerably excited, and he spoke with much more than his usual force and vigour. He did not belong to the straitest sect of theologians, nor was his religion characterized by any great fervour : both his Theology and his standard of Christian character were probably about the same as generally prevailed in the Established Church of England at that day. After his return from Ireland, a short time previous to the commencement of the Revolutionary War, he seems to have found an unpleasant state of things existing in his parish, occasioned partly by the attachment of some of his people to the ministry of Whitefield and his coadjutors. The following extract from a letter which he wrote about that time, may serve to illustrate his own religious views, as well as the general character of his ministry: — " I should think my situation per- fectly agreeable, if it were not for the bigotry and enthusiasm that generally prevails among people here of all denominations. Even the Church, particularly the lower members of it, is not free from the general infection. As I found this to be the case, I made it a point to preach the plain doctrines of religion and morality in the manner I found them enforced by the most eminent divines of the Church of England. This brought an accusation against me by these people, that I was endeavouring to sap the foundations of Christianity, which they imagined to consist in the doctrines of absolute predestination and reprobation, placing such unbounded confidence in the merits of Christ as to think their own endeavours quite unnecessary, and not in the least available to salvation; and SAMUEL PROVOOST. 245 consigning to everlasting destruction all who happen to diifer from them in the most trivial matters. I was, however, happy enough to be supported by many of the principal persons of New York." Though Dr. Provoost had probably little sympathy with the views and feelings of most other denominations of Christians, his general courtesy was never affected by any considerations merely denominational. For instance, he was in very agreeable, and I believe intimate, social relations, with most of the clergymen of the Presbyterian and Reformed Dutch Churches; and I suspect he rarely made a dinner party but that some of them were among his guests. An Episcopal clergyman from Ireland had come to this country, and I believe, through the Bishop's influence, had obtained employment, both as a teacher, and as a preacher in St. Anne's Church, Brooklyn. As the Bishop was about to ordain one or more persons to the ministry, he invited this Mr. W to preach on the occasion. Dr. Beach, the Bishop's Assistant Minister, sent invitations to Dr. Livingston, Dr. Rodgers, and some other of the ministers of the city, not con- nected with the Episcopal Church, to be present. The Irish parson took it into his head to magnify his office that day by a very bold defence of the doctrine of Apostolical Succession, involving rather a stern rebuke to those whom he regarded as preaching without any authority. Though it is not likely that the Bishop, dissented from his views, he felt that it was at least an apparent discourtesy to his friends who were present at the service; and he was evidently not a little annoyed by it. Old Dr. Rodgers, in speaking of it afterwards, shrewdly ' remarked, — " I wonder from what authority the Bishop derived his baptism," — referring to the fact that he had been baptized by Dominie Du Bois in the Dutch Church. Bishop Provoost commanded great respect from the community at large. The public duties belonging to the Episcopate he always discharged with freedom and dignity; and though the number of his Clergy was very small, I believe they generally regarded him with deference and good-will. He was distinguished for his public spirit, philanthropy, and patriotism. He distributed to the necessities of the poor with a more liberal hand, it was thought, than his means would justify. He entered heartily into plans for public improvement, contributing his influence or his money, as either might be called for. His love of liberty made him a Whig in the Revolution, though, in being so, he incurred the displeasure of most of his brethren. He was a man of enlightened and, in many respects, highly liberal, views; and his death made a perceptible chasm in the intellectual and social circles of New York. Very respectfully your friend And humble servant, GEO. B. RAPELTE. 246 KPISCOPALIAN. JOHN ANDREWS, D. D * 1767—1813. John Andeews, a son of Moses and Letitia Andrews, was born in Cecil County, Md., about six miles from the Head of Elk, on the 4th of April, 1746. His father, who was a man of exemplary piety, and in com- fortable worldly circumstances, placed him, at the age of seven years, at the Elk School, then under the direction of the New Castle Presbytery, where he received his training preparatory to entering College. At the age of seventeen, he was removed to the College and Academy of Phila- delphia, where he graduated in 1765, with distinguished honour. He had completed his collegiate course the preceding year, and had entered as a Tutor in the Grammar School ; but, in consequence of the absence of the Provost, Dr. Smith, no Commencement was held that year, so that he did not actually receive the degree of Bachelor of Arts till May of the year following. Mr. Andrews continued his connection with the G-rammar School about one year, when, on the recommendation of Dr. Smith, he was induced to take charge of a classical school at Lancaster. Having previously resolved to devote himself to the ministry in the Episcopal Church, he pursued his theological studies there, a little more than a year, under the direction of the Eev. Thomas Barton. He then embarked, in company with Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Magaw,t for London, for the purpose of obtaining Epis- copal ordination. On the 2d of February, 1767, he was ordained Deacon, by the Bishop of St. David's, in the Royal Chapel of St. James, West- minster, at the request of Dr. Terrick, Bishop of London : and on the 15th of the same month, he was admitted to Priest's Orders, in the same place, by the Bishop of London himself. Before he left England, he was appointed by the Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts, a Missionary to Lewes, De. Immediately on his return, he entered on the duties of that station, and remained in the * Memoir of Bishop White. — Quarterly Theologreal Review, 1813. — MSS. from his son, John Andrews, Esq., John McAllister, Esq., John A. McAllister, Esq., and Rev. Dr. Ethan Allen. t Samitbl Magaw was graduated at the University of Pennsylvania in 1767, being a mem- ber of the first class that graduated in that institution. After receiving Holy Orders, he was, for some time, a Missionary of the Venerable Society at Dover and Duck Creek, In Delaware. In 1779, he was invited to the Keotorship of St. Pauls Church, Philadelphia, but did not accept the charge until January, 1781. He was sole minister of this parish from 1781 to 1786, when the Rev. Joseph Pilmore became his Assistant; and he continued Rector until 1804, when Mr. Pilmore succeeded him. He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the University of Pennsylvania in 1783, and was Vice Provost of that institution from 1782 to 1791. About the year 1800, he was connected with Dr. Abercrombie In establishing the Philadelphia Academy— an institution which had but a brief existence. He was Secretary of several of the early Conventions of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Pennsylvania. He died in Philadelphia, December 1, 1812. He published a Sermon preached at Christ Church, Philadelphia, 1775; a Sermon on the Fourth of July, 1786; a Sermon at the first Ordination held by Bishop White, 1787; a Sermon before the Grand Lodge of Pennsylvania, 1793' a Ser- mon at the Opening of the African Church of St. Thomas, Philadelphia, 1794 ; a Sermon on the death of Mrs. White, consort of Bishop White, 1797. I learn from a gentleman who was a pupil in Dr. Magaw's school, that he was a man of great urbanity of manners, and apparent kindliness of spirit. Considering the Important positions he occupied, he seems to have left behind him few memorials. JOHN ANDREWS. 247 discharge of them about three years. By that time his health had begun to sufiFer seriously from the climate, in consequence of which he removed to York, Pa., and became Missionary to York and Carlisle. Here, in 1772, he was married to Elizabeth, daughter of Robert and Mary Callen- der, of Cumberland County, a lady of fine domestic qualities and great goiieral excellence of character. He soon found that his salary in this place was insufficient for the support of his family ; and therefore accepted an invitation to Queen Anne's County, Md., though his parishioners and neighbours parted with him not without deep regret. Ho was appointed by the Governor of the then Province of Maryland, Rector of St. John's Parish, Queen Anne's, and he retained his charge until some time after the Declaration of Independence. At the commencement of the Revolution- ary struggle, his conscientious abhorrence of civil war, as well as his dis- trust of the ability of the Provinces to accomplish the object at which they aimed, led him to endeavour to confine opposition within the limits of con- stitutional allegiance ; though he was never otherwise than friendly to the liberties of his country. It was some time before he took the oath of abju- ration ; and he always thought some of the public measures, especially the treatment of the Loyalists, unduly severe. His want of full sympathy with the high tone of political feeling around him rendered his situation uncomfortable, and finally led to his return to York, where he opened a classical school. In this enterprise he was very successful ; for notwith- standing, in his political views and feelings, he fell much behind the spirit of the times, yet so distinguished was he as a scholar, and so unexcep- tionable and estimable in his private character, that his school was liberally patronized, especially by his former parishioners and friends in Queen Anne's. At this time he belonged to a literary club, many of whose mem- bers were zealous Whigs ; but this did not at all afi'ect the harmony of his intercourse with them. The unfortunate Major Andre was ordered thither on his parole, after having been taken prisoner by Montgomery at St. John's. During his residence there, Mr. Andrews formed a very agreeable acquaintance with him, and had often the pleasure of welcoming him to the hospitalities of his house. Andre sometimes met there some of the warmest friends of the American cause, and he always seemed happy in their society, as they did in his. Mr. Andrews, after remaining at York for some years, returned to Mary- land, and on the 13th of April, 1782, assumed the Rectorship of St. Thomas' Parish, Baltimore County, devoting half of his time to that par- ish, and the other half to St. James', the adjoining parish. Northeast, in the same county. On his first coming to St. Thomas', he lived about two miles Southeast of the Green Springs, but subsequently removed to Poplar Hill, three miles farther East. At each of these places he had a flourish- ing school. His pupils, the sons of gentlemen residing in the county, varying from twenty-five to thirty-five, lived in his family. At the first Convention of Clerical and Lay Deputies from the parishes in Maryland, in June, 1784, Mr. Andrews was present. Up to the time of the Revolution, the Church of England had been the Established Church in Maryland ; but at this Convention, it was organized as the Protestant Episcopal Church of Maryland, independent of all foreign jurisdiction ; 248 EPISCOPALIAN. and Mr. Andrews was one of those who were active in organizing it under the new Constitution and Canons. At the following Christmas, the Kev. Dr. Coke, a Presbyter of the Church of England, in connection with Mr. Wesley, and Mr. Francis Asbury, then a lay preacher, with other Methodist preachers in the United States, met at Baltimore ; and Mr. Andrews and Mr. West, Rector of St. Paul's, Baltimore, undertook to effect a union between the Methodists and the Episcopalians, but without success. Mr. Andrews is said to have been exceedingly earnest on the occasion, and to have urged the union on the ground that there was not sufficient difference between them to justify a separation. His own account of the interview between the two parties has often been printed. In the year 1785, Mr. Andrews was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Washington College, Kent County, Md., then under the Presidency of his friend Dr. William Smith. In the year 1785, the Academy of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Philadelphia was established, and Dr. Andrews was placed at its head. Accordingly, he removed to Philadelphia in May, of that year, and imme- diately entered on the duties of his office. His services were met with the highest testimonies of approbation, and the school almost immediately rose into general favour. During the absence of the Rev. Dr. White, for the purpose of receiving Episcopal Consecration in England, from November, 1786 to the succeed- ing April, Mr. Andrews supplied his place in the United Churches of Christ Church and St. Peter's, in Philadelphia. He was also, for several years, Rector of St. James' at Bristol, and regularly officiated there, until he was disabled by bodily disease. In 1789, the Legislature having restored to the former Trustees of the Col- lege and Academy of Philadelphia its corporate character. Dr. Andrews was persuaded to accept the Professorship* of Humanity in this institution. In 1791, when the College and Academy, with its rival institution, the Univer- sity of the State of Pennsylvania, were united under the corporate title of " the University of Pennsylvania," Dr. Andrews was elected to the office of Vice Provost, which included the Professorship of Moral Philosophy, and instruction in the higher classics. Having discharged with grea;t fidelity the duties of this place, for more than twenty years, he was unanimously elected, in December, 1810, to the office of Provost, then vacant by the resignation of Dr. McDowell. But he had long been the subject of a nervous disease, and the vigour of his constitution began now perceptibly to abate. He was himself fully sensible of his incipient decline, and admonished his friends not to expect that his life would be long continued. In the early part of 1812, he was attacked with vertigo, and exhibited what the physicians considered indications of water on the chest. At the Commencement that year, which took place in July, he suffered so much from debility and laborious respiration, that it was with extreme difficulty that he was enabled to perform even a part of his appropriate duties. He had already intimated to the Trustees a wish that they would lose no time in looking out for a person suitable to succeed tim in office ; being fully satisfied that his period of active service was JOHN ANDREWS. 249 nearly closed. He tendered his resignation on the 2d of February, 1813 ; and the Trustees, in accepting it, testified their high estimate of his char- acter and services, and made honourable provision for his support during the remainder of his life. Dr. Andrews continued to discharge his accustomed duties in the Col- lege, according to his ability, in the expectation that the Trustees would be able soon to appoint his successor. On Monday morning, the 29th of March, he rose apparently in his usual state, and after breakfast went to the College, but soon found himself so unwell as to be obliged to return home. He went immediately to his chamber, and two physicians were very soon in attendance. One side of his body had become palsied ; and the physicians, apprehending danger of apoplexy, were consulting, in an adjoining chamber, as to the best means of preventing it. He expressed to his attendants the opinion that he was better ; but had scarcely done so before a sudden shock of the malady which had been apprehended termi- nated his life. He died at the age of sixty-seven. His body was interred in Christ Church burial-ground, and his Funeral Sermon was preached by the Rev. Dr. Abercrombie, from Numbers xxiii. 10. Dr. Andrews was the father of ten children, the eldest of whom, Robert, was graduated at the College and Academy of Philadelphia in 1790. Mrs. Andrews died on the 22d of February, 1798. Her death was occasioned by the shock which she received from the death of a son caused by fire. The following is a list of Dr. Andrews' publications: — A Sermon on Mutual Love, preached at Christ Church, Brunswick, N. J., before the Corporation for the Relief of Widows and Children in communion with the Protestant Episcopal Church, 1788. A Sermon on the Nature and Importance of the Gospel Ministry, delivered at two Ordinations, one in Christ Church, the other in St. Peter's, Philadelphia, 1788. A Sermon on the Parable of the Unjust Steward, preached at Bristol, Pa., 1789. An Address to the Graduates in Medicine, delivered at a Medical Com- mencement in the University of Pennsylvania, 1791. Elements of Logic, 1800. Elements of Rhetoric and Belles Lettres, compiled for the use of Schools, 1813. FROM THE REV. SAMUEL B. HOW, D. D. New Brunswick, N. J., May 23, 1857. Rev. and dear Sir: My acquaintance with Dr. Andrews, of whom you ask me to give you some account, began a few years onlj'- before his death, while I was an undergraduate in the University; and though, afterwards, when my esteemed classmate, Mr. Joseph P. Engles and myself became Head-masters of the Grammar School of the University, I had frequent and even intimate social intercourse with him, it was yet that of a very young man with one far advan- ced in life. In stature he was tall and portly, and his personal appearance and carriage commanded respect. His manners were those which became a Clergyman, and the Provost of a Univei-sity, — grave, dignified, and polished, and at the same time courteous and mild : they invited respect and confidence, while they restrained improper familiarity or freedom. He was a fine specimen of the old school gentleman of a former generation. Vol. V. 32 250 EPISCOPALIAN. In one trait of character, if I mistake not, he especially excelled,— a trait which adorns and heightens ewery other excellence which a man may possess, and the want of which is a serious defect in any character, however otherwise elevated it may be — I mean thorough, sterling honesty. He was no time- server, and made no pretensions to what did not belong to him, but was a high- minded and honourable man, without artifice or guile. Nor did he hesitate, when propriety or duty required it, frankly to avow his sentiments. At the same time, he possessed a sound judgment, and a quick perception of the pro- prieties of life, which led him to speak and act with uniform discretion, and to treat those who differed from him with all due respect and kindness. The mild- ness of his manners, the benevolence of his feelings, his habitual cheerfulness, and his fine conversational powers, made him uncommonly agreeable in the intercourse of private life; while he shed light and interest upon almost every subject of discussion or conversation, by his general learning, by choice quota- tions from the ancient classics, or by instructive or amusing anecdotes, of which he had a large store treasured up in his memory. During a few of the last years of his life, he was unable, through bodily infirmity, to officiate in the pulpit, and, as I never had the opportunity of hear- ing him preach, I am unable to say anything of him in that respect; nor is it to be supposed that so young a man as I then was, could correctly judge of the extent of his literary or theological acquirements. The writer of his Obituary, in " The Quarterly Theological Review," for July, 1813, says that " he was equalled by few, surpassed by none, as an impressive and eloquent preacher," and that, "as a theologian, he was well versed in Systematic Divinity and Ecclesiastical History." In his religious views he was a decided Episcopalian and Arminian, strongly attached to his Ohurcli, and zealous to promote its pros- perity. From his remarks to the class during recitation, and from his private conversation, I am impressed with the belief that he had read many of the writings of the very able Divines and Bishops of the Church of England, from the days of King Charles Second down to his own time, — such as Tillotson, Barrow, Sherlock, Whitby, &c., and that he was well acquainted with the Belles Lettres writers of the same period. As the Provost of the University, he so happily mingled authority with kind- ness and dignity of manner, as to win the respect and esteem of the students, and to preserve good order and attention to study, almost witHout the necessity of discipline. He was exact in his teaching, requiriiig such accuracy in our reci- tations as could be obtained only by the most careful previous study. Ho excelled in classical literature, and I have met with very few who seemed to dis- cern so quickly,' or relish so highly, the beauties of the Latin and Greek classics as he. He was particularly familiar with the writings of Horace and Homer, and read and translated them with the greatest ease and elegance, calling our attention to their varied beauties, and especially to the wonderful copiousness, case, and flexibility, of the Greek language, with its adaptedness to express silmost every shade of thought. In common with all men, he had his imperfections; but I can truly say that, when 1 knew him, he was the Christian gentleman, the accomplished scholar, the faithful and kind instructer, the sincere and cordial friend, and in social life, the cheerful, instructive and pleasant companion. Accept the assurance of my very high esteem And sincere friendship, SAMUEL B. HOW. JOHN ANDREWS. 251 FROM JOHN McAllister, esq. Philadelphia, March 21, 1853. Dear Sir: I was one of a class in the University of Pennsylvania, who enjoyed the benefit of Dr. Andrews' instructions; and yet I am not sure that I can say much about him that will be to your purpose. All my recollections of him, however, are of a very agreeable kind. In his intercourse with the students he was a perfect gentleman, — uniformly courteous and friendly. Of his method of teaching I could not undertake to speak in detail at this distant day. Besides the lessons in Latin and Greek, he read to us Lectures on Moral Philosophy. We studied Logic from a small Compend prepared by himself. After the regu- lar business of the morning, he would spend some time in rather desultory remarks on any subject that might occur to him. Perhaps it would be the last book that he had read; and from that he would gradually pass to something else; so that each of these occasions would give us quite a variety of matters to think upon, and they led us to read many books which otherwise would not have been sought for. To myself they were very instructive; and many of the observations which he made in that informal manner are yet in my memory. lie generally closed with some pleasant remark which would raise a smile; then rising from his seat, and slightly inclining himself towards us, he would, with a kind and loving look, bid the "young gentlemen " good morning. Dr. Andrews was of good height and form, though rather disposed to corpu- lence. His face was florid. From a nervous affection, there was a tremor in his hands, which of course affected his handwriting. I think he must have had tliis tremor sometime before my recollection of him, for I remember to have noticed the evidences of it in some of his writing which dated back to 1791. Regretting that my recollections of Dr. Andrews are not more extended, and more to your purpose, I am, my dear Sir, with sentiments of much respect. Yours truly, JOHN McAllister. RT. REV. THOMAS JOHN CLAGGETT, D. D. 1767—1816. FROM THE REV. JOHN H. CHEW. Parsonage, St. Paul's Parish, ) Prince George's County, Md., October 17, 1855. ) Rev. and dear Sir : After exploring every source of information in res- pect to my venerable grandfather, the late Bishop Claggett, within my reach, I am happy to be able to furnish you with the following account of the leading events of his history. His first ancestor in this country was Thomas Claggett, the son of Edward Claggett, of the city of London, who came over in the year 1670, and settled in Calvert County, in this State. His son, Eiohard Claggett, resided in Prince George's County, on an estate which the Bishop after- wards inherited, and for the most part made his residence. His name is found in the Church Records, as a Vestryman of his parish, in 1727. The 252 EPISCOPALIAN. Eev. John Eversfield,* who was, for many years, Kector of this same par- ish, (St. Paul's,) married a daughter of this gentleman, a sister of the Bishop's father. The father of the Bishop, the Kev. Samuel Claggett, was ordained in London by the Bishop of Peterborough, on the 20th of December, 1747. He is said to have been a man of considerable ability, and of exem- plary piety and devotion. He was Eector, first of Christ Church Parish, Calvert County, and afterwards of William and Mary Parish, Charles County, Md. He was married twice. His first wife was Elizabeth Gantt, of Prince George's County, who left two children, the Bishop, and a daugh- ter who married my paternal grandfather, Samuel Chew of Calvert County. His second wife was Mary Browne, a daughter of Dr. Browne, of Charles County, a physician of some note. Mr. Claggett died soon' after his second marriage, in the thirty-sixth year of his age, leaving, besides the two chil- dren already mentioned, only one son, who removed to the Western part of Virginia, where his descendants are still living. Mrs. Claggett after- wards married Mr. Robert Horner, and had two sons ; — one of whom was the father of Professor Horner of the University of Pennsylvania. Thomas John Claggett was born in Prince George's County, Md., on the 2d of October, 1743. On the death of his father, which occurred when he was very young, his uncle, Mr. Edward Gantt, of Calvert County, became his guardian, and undertook the direction of his education. By him he was sent first to the Lower Marlborough Academy, which was then under the charge of a Mr. Philipson, a classical teacher of uncommon merit, and afterwards to the College of New Jersey, where he graduated on the 25th of September, 1764. Leaving College, he entered immediately upon the study of Theology, which he pursued principally under the direction of his uncle, the Eev. John Eversfield, D. D. Having completed his preparatory studies, he weiit to England to be ordained, and was admitted to the Order of Dea- cons on the 20th of September, and to the Priesthood on the 11th of Octo- ber, 1767, by the Et. Rev. Richard Terrick, Bishop of London. A little more than a year after his return from England, he was pre- sented by the Governor of Maryland to the Rectorship of All Saints' Parish, in Calvert County, and entered immediately with great zeal upon the discharge of his sacred duties. About this time, and during his resi- dence in this parish, he was married to Miss Mary Gantt, a daughter of the gentleman before referred to, with whom he lived happily the remain- der of his life, and who survived several years after his death. He con- tinued in this parish until the commencement of the Revolution, soon after which he retired to his residence in Prince George's, and remained without a charge for about two years. At the end of this time, or about the begin- ning of 1779, it appears that he commenced officiating in St. Paul's, — the * John Eversfield was a native of England, and a younger branch of a noble ikmily. He received Priest's Orders in September, 1727, and in the following November embarked for the Province of Maryland. In May, 1728, he was presented to St. Paul's Parish, Prince George s County. Three years afterwards, he married Eleanor Claggett, a parishioner of his, and aunt of Bishop Claggett, and became possessed of a large landed estate. He had a noble library, was a man of great learning, and as a minister his memory is without reproach. He died Novem- ber 8, 1780, not far from eighty years of age, leaving behind him several children, one of whom, — John, took Orders and settled in England. THOMAS JOHN CLAGGETT. 253 parish in which he now lived ; and on the 7th of August, 1780, he was duly elected its Rector, under the Act for the establishment of Vestries, passed by the Legislature, at its previous session. In 1783, he was one of a Committee who obtained from the Legislature the Charter of the Incorporation for the Relief of Widows and Orphans of the Clergy. He was also on a Committee appointed by the Convention of 1786 to attend to a Bill before the General Assembly of Maryland for incorporating the various Religious Societies. In the Convention of 1788, he was a member of the Committee that prepared the first set of Canons for the Diocese ; and a member of the Standing Committee from this time until he was made Bishop. In 1787, he was one of the delegates of the Diocese of Maryland in the General Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States. On the Slat of May, 1792, he was unani- mously elected Bishop of Maryland, and was consecrated in Trinity Church, New York, by Bishop Provoost, — Bishops Seabury, White, and Madison assisting in the service, on the 13th of September of the same year, — being the fifth Bishop then in the United States, and the first that was con- secrated on this side the Atlantic. The English and Scotch successions, through Bishop Seabury who had been ordained in Scotland, and Bishop White and others who had received their Orders in England, were first united in the Consecration of Bishop Claggett ; and the united succession has been transmitted, through him, to all the Bishops of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States, now living. After his election to the Episcopate, he resigned the joint Rectorship of St. James' Parish, Ann Arundel County, and All Saints', Calvert, which he then held, and returned to his former residence in Prince George's, where, in 1793, he again became Rector of St. Paul's Parish. In 1800, he acted as Chaplain to the Senate of the United States, at the same time that the Rev. Dr. Lyell, afterwards Rector of Christ Church, New York, was Chaplain to the House of Representatives, — the first session of Con- gress held in Washington City. In 1808, he became the Rector of Trinity Church, organized about that time, in Upper Marlborough, — the County seat ; and continued to officiate in that capacity, when not engaged else- where in the performance of Episcopal duties, until the time of his death. The infirmities attendant on several of his last years obliged him consider- ably to relax his labours ; and in 1814, Dr. Kemp was appointed Assistant Bishop. After having presided over the Episcopal Church in Maryland twenty-four years, he died at his residence near Upper Marlborough, on the 2d of August, 1816, in the seventy-third year of his age. Sermons with reference to his death were preached by Bishop Kemp, and the Rev. William H. Wilmer, of Alexandria, both of which were published. The following Epitaph, written by the late Francis S. Key, Esq., is inscribed on his tomb : — "THOMAS JOHANNES CLAGGETT, D. D., Episcopus primus Marilandse N atus sexto non as Octobris, Anno Salutis 1743. Ordinatus Diaconuset Presbyter, Londini, 1767, Et Episcopus consecratus 1792. Decessit in pace Christi, quarto nonas Augusti, 1816. 254 EPISCOPALIAN. Fidelitate et mansuetndine Ecclesiam rexit, Moi'ibus que ornavit. Uxeri, liberis, sociisque memoriam carissimam, Et Ecolesiae, et patriae, nomen honoratum dedit. Bishop Claggett's publications consist of Us Pastoral Letters, Addresses to his Convention, and a few occasional Sermons. The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by his Alma Mater, and also by Washington College, on the Eastern Shore of Mary- land. Bishop Claggett left a widow, three sons and two daughters ; — his eldest daughter, who married Mr. John Eversfield, having died, without children, several years before him. Samuel, the eldest son, was a member of the Bar. He lived at his father's dwelling place, which he inherited, and died, unmarried, in 1824. Thomas John was a physician, and lived and died in Frederick County, leaving a large family, all of whom are still living. Charles Nichols died single in 1832. Priscilla Elizabeth, the elder of the two surviving daughters, married Mr. John H. Chew, of Cal- vert County, and died in 1843, leaving seven children, six of whom are yet living. Elizabeth Laura, the youngest daughter, married Mr. Josias Young, of Prince George's County, and is the only one of the Bishop's chil- dren who now survives. Bishop Claggett was a well informed divine, and continued to the last devoted to the studies and the duties of his sacred calling. He is said by those who remember him to have been a man of commanding person, voice and manners, and of great dignity of character, yet exceedingly mild, affa- ble and easy of access. It has been thought that perhaps his love of con- ciliation may have sometimes betrayed him into a want of firmness and decision. Even if this were true, it must be remembered, as Dr. Hawks has well remarked, in his "Ecclesiastical Contributions," that "it was a most amiable infirmity." It should also be remembered that Bishop Clag- gett's Episcopate was protracted considerably beyond the period of life at which men often become incapable of attending to public affairs ; and due allowance should be made for the infirmities of his advanced age. But those who knew him best, and could best appreciate the views and motives by which he was guided, deny the justice of the imputation, and assert that he was always firm and uncompromising in the discharge of what he considered his duty. Passing without reproach through all the peculiar difficulties and trials of the times in which he lived, he has left an enviable reputation behind him. The following is an extract from the Sermon preached by the Rev. W. H. Wilmer, then of Alexandria, on the occasion of his death : — " He possessed a strong and vigorous mind, which was cultivated by a liberal education, and improved by an acquaintance with men and manners, and with all the resources of general science. His memory was peculiarly vast and retentive, and was stored with an astonishing fund of entertaining as well as useful anecdote, from which he delighted to draw for the benefit and pleasure of his friends. " But it was his peculiar glory to possess the character of the Christian, of the Christian Minister, and the Christian Bishop. In all these rela- tions, he displayed the erudition of the sound Divine, the virtues of the THOMAS JOHN CLAGGETT 255 Christian, and the fidelity of the Pastor. Unassuming, modest and unos- tentatious, he alone seemed unconscious of his talents or his worth. His liumility mingled itself with all his actions, and was the result of his gen- uine piety. His religion was not of that morose and forbidding kind, which would teach us that Christianity is designed to repress all the social and generous affections, and to wrap the soul in gloomy contemplation. It was piety without affectation ; cheerfulness without levity ; the effort of Christian benevolence labouring to scatter through every department of life something that might innocently beguile it of its cares, while it taught that the end of life was to die. His affability and condescension made one forget that he was in the presence of a superior, by making him feel that ho was in the presence of a friend. But the end of his conversation, like that of his preaching, was to lead, if not directly, yet by a course adapted to the windings of the human heart, to Jesus Christ. This was the delightful theme on which he loved to dwell, because it was the founda- tion of his best joys and the source of his best hopes. On Him he relied to support him in that hour which was advancing by slow but steady and certain steps, which he had long anticipated, upon which he loved to con- verso, and for which, we trust, ho was prepared. He had been gradually and slowly declining during several of his last years, but still continued to attend to his parochial and Episcopal duties ; nor did he cease from the work of duty till he received the command from above. While officiating in one of his chnvchos, ho was attacked with the indisposition, which ter- minated at once his life and his usefulness ; and thus received in the Sanc- tuary on earth the summons that called him to the Sanctuary above." Hoping that these notices of a venerable man long since gone to his rest, may suffice for the purpose for which they are intended, I am, my dear Sir, Very respectfully and truly yours, JOHN H. CHEW. ABRAHAM BEACH, D. D. 1767—1828. FROM THE HON. WILLIAM BEACH LAWRENCE. Newport, January 15, 1852. My dear Sir : After considerable delay, I send you the following sketch of my venerable grandfather, which embodies all the more important facts that I have been able to gather concerning him. Abraham Beach was born at Cheshire, Conn., on the 9th of Septem- ber, 1740. His father was twice married, his second wife being a sister of David Wooster, one of the Brigadier Generals appointed by Congress at the organization of the Revolutionary army, and who was mortally wounded at an early period of the War. Abraham was the only child of the second marriage, and his father, who was a man of high character and 256 EPISCOPALIAN. respectability, died when he was two years old. The inscription on his tomb, which still remains in the burying-ground at Cheshire, shows the estimation in which he was held by his contemporaries. It is in the fol- lowing words : — " Here lies the body of Captain Elnathan Beach, a gen- tleman, who, from a small fortune, by honest industry and diligent application to business, raised a very considerable estate. His liberal benefactions to the Parish of Cheshire will perpetuate his name. And as he was, perhaps, the first in Connecticut, who began a fund for the relief of the poor, so he deserves a particular place in the memory of all who wish well to mankind. He departed this life, August 16, 1742, in the 45th year of his age." Mrs. Beach subsequently removed to Hartford, having intermarried with Dr. Bull of that place, by whom she had other children, one of whom, Jonathan Bull, was a prominent member of the Republican party, and the Commissioner of Loans for Connecticut in the Administrations of Jeffer- son and Madison ; and another, a maiden lady, highly distinguished for her intellectual powers and literary attainments, who passed the greater part of her life in her brother's family. At Hartford young Abraham received. his elementary education. At the age of thirteen he entered, at the same time with his half-brother, Samuel Beach, Yale College, then under the Presidency of Mr. Clap, and in 1757 he obtained the honours of the institution through which he had passed with distinguished success, — the Valedictory Address being assigned to him. To this period of his life he often referred in his latter years, with great satisfaction, and whilst delighting to repeat some good natured anecdotes, illustrative of his harmless vanity, always expressed himself grateful for the instruction he had derived from the venerable President, who was really a learned man, and had gained great reputation in a legal controversy before the Greneral Assem- bly, in which he successfully defended the rights of the College against the two ablest lawyers of the Colony, — Jared Ingersoll and Samuel W. John- son, both of whom subsequently acquired a Continental reputation. For that system of " fagging " introduced from the English schools, which, in his time, prevailed at Yale, and by which Freshmen were subjected to the performance of menial offices for the members of the higher classes, he ever expressed the greatest abhorrence, — believing it calculated to engen- der in both parties the worst feelings of human nature. Theology was not Mr. Beach's original destination, nor was it till he attained to manhood that he abandoned the peculiar faith of his ancestors, and in which he had been educated. But the change in his religious opin- ions was not extraordinary, considering the circumstances in which he was placed. The founder of the Episcopal Church in the Colony, Dr. John- son, a man. universally revered, was a connection of his, whose convert, John Beach, of Newtown, distinguished alike for his great zeal in behalf of Episcopal ordination, and by the ability with which, as a controversial writer, he maintained his peculiar views, was his near kinsman. Under the advice of these venerable men his theological studies were pursued ; but notwithstanding the importance which they attached to the " Apostoli- cal Succession," it may be remarked as characteristic of Dr. Beach through his whole professional career, and which not unfrequently subjec- ABRAHAM BEACH. 257 ted him to the animadversion of his brethren, that the kindest feelings and most agreeable interchange of courtesies ever prevailed between him and the Clergy of other denominations, with whom he was brought into con- tact, either socially or in the performance of ministerial duties. One of the embarrassments which the Church of England in the Colo- nies encountered, from the want of Episcopal superintendence, was that, as Holy Orders could only be obtained in the Mother Country, candidates for the Ministry were obliged, either to make two voyages to Europe, in those days not a little perilous, as well as expensive beyond the means of most, or to delay their entrance on their profession till they were competent, from age and other circumstances, to be admitted, before their return, to the Order of Priests. It was not, therefore, till 1767, that Mr. Beach went abroad, and while absent, he was ordained both Deacon and Priest, the latter ceremony being performed by the Bishop of London, in June of that year. At this period, except in some of the Southern Colonies and in New York, the Episcopal Church in this country was sustained mainly by the stipends allowed by the Society for the Propagation of the Grospel in For- eign Parts ; — a Corporation established in 1701, and to which the existing possessions of Great Britain, in Australia, Asia, Africa, and the West Indies, as well as in North America, are, to this day, in a great degree, indebted for the maintenance of a regular ministry. This Society, before our Revolution, exercised, in fact, that superintendence over the Colonial Clergy, which was nominally accorded to the Bishop of London. The Corporation, while it required that a Congregation should evince its desire for Episcopal ministrations, by contributing a definite sum towards the clergyman's support, not only added such an amount as might suffice for his frugal maintenance, but elevated the standard of religious instruction by furnishing select libraries to the several Missions. A catalogue of the books supplied to the one at New Brunswick, includes Patrick and Lowth, Cruden, Prideaux, Stanhope, Eckhard, and many others of what were then deemed the most valuable theological and ecclesiastical works. While he was yet in England, Mr. Beach was appointed Missionary to New Brunswick, and as successor to the Eev. Leonard Cutting, the grand- father of the distinguished jurist, Francis B. Cutting, Esq., of New York. This Mission had been established as early as 1742, about which time the church edifice, still used for Divine worship, was erected. Mr. Beach entered on the duties of his Mission, in which Pisoataqua was included, in September, 1767. His early ministerial labours seem to have been blessed with the success which his zeal merited. That the most humble portion of his flock were not disregarded, appears from his Report of 1771, in which he states, — " In my Mission are many negroes, of whom I collect as many as can attend with convenience, every Sunday evening, at my own house, to whom I read and explain the Scriptures, as well as perform the Evening Service. This practice, I find, has been attended with some success, there being several instances of negroes, who, at my first knowing them, possessed all the superstitious notions of their own country, but are now sincere, orderly Christians." Mr. Beach concluded his letter of May 26, 1774, to the Society, by the following reference to the members of other Christian Societies in his- Vol. V. 33 258 EPISCOPALIAN. Mission, and which, while it manifests his abiding confidence in the cor- rectness of his own faith, is wholly exempt from any persecuting spirit towards those who differed from him. " In this part of the world," says he, " are Dissenters of every denomination, whose prejudices against the Church of England have been imbibed in their earliest years, and have increased with them : it is not, therefore, to be expected that they will be easily worn off. I find, however, that treating them with candour, kindness, and charity, is the most likely means to bring them to examine with coolness and impar- tiality the Constitution of our own Church, which only is wanting in order to make them members of it. This I have experienced in several instances." The period of his employment in the service of the Society was one of extraordinary interest in the history of our country, and especially of New Jersey, which was the battle ground of the Kevolution. It required no little prudence, while making the performance of his ministerial duties the paramount object of his life, for a clergyman of the Church of England to preserve that practical neutrality in the existing civil war, which he deemed to be imposed by his sacred calling. In his Report of 1775, he says, — " The unhappy dispute between Great Britain and the Colonies operates to the disadvantage of the Church of England in this country. The Cler- gy are justly thought to be attached to the interest of the Mother Country, as well as to that of America ; which, at present, is a sufficient reason for our being looked upon with a jealous eye by many of our neighbours. However, I am determined, in the midst of these or any greater diificulties that may surround me, to do every thing in my power to promote modera- tion, peace, and good-will amongst my people, and to trust to Divine Provi- dence for the success of my endeavours." Mr. Beach's residence, which was on an estate on the Earitan, about three miles from New Brunswick, which he had acquired by his intermar- riage, soon after his settlement in his Mission, with Ann, who died in 1808, and who was the daughter and sole heiress of Evert Van Winkle, one of the original Dutch settlers, was, during a large portion of the War, between the lines of the belligerents. Here he was exposed to depredations from both parties, and, on more than one occasion, balls, fired in the skirmishes between the advance guards, lodged in the walls of his dwelling. Though attached to the land of his birth, and which, from the settlement of the country, had been that of his ancestors, Mr. Beach was, from the very nature of his associations, inclined to the belief that the time for its assuming an independent position amopg the nations of the world had not yet arrived. He thought that it was not desirable, as he often expressed himself, that Independence should be obtained through civil war, but that when the proper period for the separation came, it would take place as readily as ripe fruit falls from the parent tree. Without discussing the cor- rectness of these views, those philanthropists, who applaud the declaration of the infidel Rousseau, deprecating every revolution that costs the life of a single individual, cannot well object to the repugnance of a Christian minister to measures which were attended with so much bloodshed, and which might well have led to a most indefinite carnage. Though he did not undergo the same risk of personal danger as his vener- able kinsman of Newtown, of whom it is recorded that, when actually fired ABRAHAM BEACH. 259 at, while pronouncing the prayer for the King, by the Continental troops, who surrounded his church, he continued the Service to the end, Mr. Beach did not consider himself absolved, by the Declaration of Independence, from his allegiance, to which, indeed, he conceived that his ordination vows gave additional force. Nor did he feel justified, without the approbation of the Society, under whose direction he deemed himself, even so far to succumb to circumstances as to omit the obnoxious portion of the Liturgy. On Sunday, the 14th of July, 1776, he went to his church at Piscataqua, and on the succeeding Sunday, the 11th, to the church at New Brunswick, to perform the services according to the usual course, but, in both cases, he was apprized that, unless he omitted the prayers in question, he would not be permitted to proceed. His account of what occurred on the first occa- sion is contained in a letter to the Society, of the 15th of February, 1777, and is as follows : — "After Independence was declared by the Congress, it was deemed High Treason for any person to pray for the King and Govern- ment, as directed by the Liturgy. I went to church, fully determined to make no alteration in the Service. When I was in the reading desk, look- ing for the lessons, a person came up to me, desiring to speak with me in the church yard ; he informed me that if I should presume to pray for the King of England, I should be immediately made a prisoner, and he could not answer for the further consequences. " In these circumstances, I thought it advisable rather to shut the church for the present, than to violate the Declaration I subscribed before the Bishop at my ordination, the oath of allegiance I then took, and the natural feelings of my own mind. 5Iy churches were accordingly shut from the 7th of July to the 8th of December ; since which time I have officiated altogether at New Brunswick, the church at Piscataqua being at present occupied as a barrack for part of the forty-second Regiment. " My present condition is truly distressing, being situated about a quar- ter of a mile beyond the Picket Guard of the King's troops. Parties of Washington's army are every day skulking about me. A few days ago, they drove off my cattle, horses, and sheep ; and since I sat down to write this letter, about fifty of them surrounded my house, and fired from thence on the out-sentry of the Hessians. They went off, however, in about an hour, without entering the house or doing any damage to those fired on. " I wish to be favoured with the Society's directions respecting my future conduct ; my situation, as well as that of my brethren in general in this country, being very critical and distressing." During the whole Revolutionary Contest, Mr. Beach continued in his perilous position, and confining himself to his religious functions, dispensing spiritual consolations alike to Whigs and Tories, to Americans and English- men, enjoyed the respect not only of those whose political opinions coinci- ded with his own, but he used frequently to relate incidents showing the courtesies of American officers, by whom he was, on' several occasions, relieved from personal embarrassments, to which others, not of his sacred calling, were subjected ; and that he suffered nothing in the estimation of his countrymen, by a conscientious adherence to what he deemed binding obligations, is evident from what occurred immediately after the War — his 260 EPISCOPALIAN. election by a Whig Vestry as the first associate of the patriot Proovost in the ministry of Trinity Church. The church in New Brunswick, shut in July, 1776, and temporarily opened for Divine Service in December of that year, was again closed on the departure of the British troops, and not subsequently opened till December, 1781, after which time, in accordance with the advice of his brethren in other Colonies, and the suggestions understood to have been made by the Archbishop of Canterbury to the Clergy of Connecticut, public worship, omitting the prayers for the King and Parliament, was regularly solemnized during the remainder of the War. Indeed, while his churches were closed, Mr. Beach was constantly occupied in the duties of his holy office, among his old parishioners, or in the vacant congregations. Dr. Chandler, of Elizabethtown, who had, before the Revolution, acquired a distinguished reputation, as the able advocate of an American Episcopacy, and most of his other brethren, had, at an early day, left the country ; and, for a considerable period, Mr. Beach was the only officiating clergyman of the Church of England in New Jersey. The Society had, from his entrance on his duties, which had then been extended to sixteen years, repeatedly manifested their approbation of his course. The stipend, however, of forty pounds, which they had allowed him from the beginning, had never been increased, while not Only were his labours and expenses augmented by the situation of the country, but for the preceding eight years, the contributions from his church had wholly ceased, leaving him mainly dependant on the produce of his farm. In July, 1783, he was appointed temporary Missionary at Amboy, in addition to his regular charge ; and at the same time the Society voted him a small gratuity, not so much as a compensation for the additional duties, as a mark of their esteem. In transmitting the Resolution, the Secretary, after adverting to the embarrassments growing out of the Kevolution, which rendered their means inadequate to a proper acknowledgment of his services, says, — " You will consider this exertion of the Society in your favour, as an instance of their good intentions and constant desire to reward the merito- rious services of the Missionaries, whose distresses they pity, and whose happiness they have always promoted to the utmost of their ability." Dr. Chandler, writing to him at the same time, says, — " In Dr. Morrice's letter you are informed that you were appointed Missionary for Amboy as well as New Brunswick, and as such had the Society's leave to take possession of the Church lands in that new part of your Mission, and that, in considera- tion of your multiplied labours and eminent services, a gratuity had been allowed you of twenty-five pounds sterling, for which you might draw as soon as you pleased, (and which gratuity, I hope, may be annually repeat- ed.) You will take notice that it is as large as ever was granted on any occasion, and you will consider it as more valuable on account of the honour attending such a testimony of your merit, than for the number of pounds, shillings, and pence, to which it amounts. In short, its value must be calculated on the saroe principles on which premiums and medals are estimated. Every member present was fully convinced of your extraor- dinary merit, and wished to be able to give a more substantial proof of it. ABRAHAM BEACH. 261 The high rank which you now hold in the Society's opinion, I doubt not you will always maintain ; and I hope that the time will come when, the passions of men subsiding, you will stand as high in that of your country- men. A firm and manly adherence to the true principles of the Church, in spite of all present temptations to revolt from them ; a persevering activity in performing the duties of your station, together with prudence, candour, and good temper, will naturally, sooner or later, find their reward in this world as well as in the next. Think not that I affect to write Episco- Tpally: these hints are the pure suggestions of esteem, affection and friendship. I fear that you are not supported, as you ought to be, by the few clergymen remaining in the State of New Jersey ; but be not discouraged, and you will find yourself able to stand on your own legs." The Secretary of the Society, in acknowledging, in November, 1784, Mr. Beach's announcement of his appointment to New York, requested a continuance of his correspondence, on motives interesting to the Church in this country ; and on him the Society greatly relied for information regard- ing their property here, as well as respecting the beneficiaries to whom they continued their aid. In these relations, it was in his power efficiently to benefit the family of his old friend, Dr. Chandler, who died before he received the ecclesiastical preferment to which he had well entitled himself. In June, 1784, and within a few weeks after the recognition of the Vestry under a Charter from the State, Mr. Beach was appointed, at the particular request of the newly elected Rector, Dr. (afterwards Bishop) ' Provoost, the Assistant Minister of Trinity Church, New York, which parish was then co-extensive with the territorial limits of the city, — the Corporation being entitled " The Rector and inhabitants of the city of New York, in communion with the Protestant Episcopal Church in the State of New York," and which name was only changed in 1814 to that of " The Rector, Church Wardens, and Vestrymen of Trinity Church in the city of New York." The Church in the city of New York, as well as in some of the adjacent counties, had received Royal endowments, which made the ministers, in a degree, independent of their parishioners ; but the income of Trinity Church was then far from what the unprecedented progress of the city, in wealth and population, converting its farm lands into the sites of spacious dwellings and magnificent warehouses, have since rendered it. To Mr. Beach the salary of five hundred pounds, pay- able out of the funds of the church, was granted, while the compensa- tion of Mr. Ogden and Mr. Moore, who were appointed additional Assist- ant Ministers at the same time, was made to depend mainly on voluntary subscriptions,— a circumstance in itself of no small account in settling the question of precedence between him and the latter gentleman, and which subsequently arose. Though Mr. Beach thus became connected with New York, he did not at once abandon his relations to New Jersey. As Rector of Christ Church, New Brunswick, he had attended a meeting at that place, which indeed was convened wholly through his instrumentality, of the Clergy, including several respectable lay members of the Church, in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York, in the month preceding his appointment to Trinity Church, the expressed object of which was to secure to the parties in 262 EPISCOPALIAN. interest the funds of the Society established in the three Colonies, for the relief of the Widows and Children of Clergymen. On this occasion was originated the proposition for the organization of the Episcopal Church of the United States. Though, in the subsequent preliminary meeting at New York, in October, 1784, he is recorded as of that State, yet we find him as an eiScient member, and well representing New Jersey, in the first General Convention in 1785 and 178G, which made the alterations in the Liturgy, supposed to be called for by the change of government and other circumstances, adopted the existing Constitution of the Church, and took the requisite measures for procuring the Consecration of American Bishops. In 1789, he appeared as a delegate from New York, which State he con- tinued, almost without interruption, to represent in the Triennial Conven- tions, during the remainder of his active ministerial career, and in which in 1801, 1804, and 1808, he was President of the House of Clerical and Lay Delegates. Very great difficulty was at first apprehended as to procuring what the Church of England deemed essential to the transmission of the Priestly office, — ordination by Bishops who they claimed had an uninterrupted succession from the. Apostles. Even the Candidates for Holy Orders, as Deacons and Priests, who went from the United States to Great Britaia after the War, had been refused ordination by the Bishop of London, on account of their inability to swear allegiance to a foreign potentate. Nor was it till after repeated eiForts that an Act of Parliament was passed in 1786, allowing the Archbishop of Canterbury and other English Prelates to consecrate Presbyters to the Episcopacy, without their taking the oaths required by their Liturgy. It was in consequence of this Act that Dr. Provoost of New York, and Dr. White of Pennsylvania, were consecrated on the 4th of February, 1787, and in 1790, Dr. Madison, of Virginia. Bishop Seabury had been cont.ecrated before the Act of Parliament, by the Bishops of the Scotch Church. Though claiming succession from the Non-juring Bishops of the time of William and Mary, the Scotch was not an established Hierarchy, but, like the present Church in America, a voluntary association. Though Dr. Beach was, as I have already stated, liberal in his inter- course with his brethren of other denominations, it appears from his corres- pondence that he was tenacious of Episcopal ordination, and unwilling to accede, even as a temporary expedient, to the plan brought prominently forward in 1783, by Dr. (afterwards Bishop) White, to organize the Church and provide for the ordination of ministers, without a consecrated Bishop. Nor did he give a voluntary assent to all the alterations in the Liturgy, and which, as the English Bishops declared, went beyond the necessity of the case. Por upwards of twenty-nine years. Dr. Beach was connected with the Diocese of New York. During that period, even his opponents bore testi- mony to the indefatigable industry and untiring zeal with which he dis- charged his public offices. In the performance of his parochial duties, matters of infinitely more importance to those committed to his spiritual care, whether the object of his sacred counsel was the highest functionary of the Union or the humblest pauper, he was. particularly happy. He was ABRAHAM BEACH. 263 not only a liberally educated scholar, and familiar with English literature, but was well versed in Doctrinal Theology. On principle, however, his sermons were dinected to practical, rather than to metaphysical, subjects. His published Discourses (among which are those before the Masonic Lodge, of which he was Grand Chaplain, and before the Church Conven- tions) are able exhortations, forcibly and clearly written, and which con- tain many eloquent passages. During his long residence in New York, the Church with which Dr. Beach was immediately connected, was greatly increased by the rapid growth of the city, and for which provision was made, in some degree, by the rebuilding of Trinity Church, destroyed during the War of the Kevolu- tion, and by the creation of St. John's Chapel, in addition to that of St. George and St. Paul. There were also numerous independent parishes established within the bounds of old Trinity ; and to which, after first opposing their recognition by the Convention, as conflicting with their chartered rights, the Vestry made donations of land, commensurate with their supposed wants, but not sufficient to prevent the assertion, on repeated occasions, of a right in the members of the new Corporations to participate in the control of the principal endowments, and which the Act of 1814 was intended, as far as declaratory legislation could have that effect, to defeat. For the whole period that he officiated in New York, Dr. Beach was not only a most esteemed minister of the Gospel, but he enjoyed the personal friendship of no small number of the most distinguished citizens of all denominations, who, at different times, resided in that metropolis, including many of the founders of the National and State Governments ; while, by a large proportion of the Clergy of the City and State, he was regarded with filial respect. When he came to the city, the venerable Dr. Rogers was the first Presbyterian minister, and Dr. Livingston, the Patriarch of the Dutch Church, who was, also, afterwards, his neighbour at New Bruns- wick, was at the head of that denomination. Between these good and great men and Dr. Beach there was ever the most affectionate regard, and sectarian differences were in no wise allowed to interfere with' their friend- ship. As a minister of the Episcopal Church in the State of New York, Dr. Beach was not only honoured by his brethren of the Clergy, in being selec- ted to represent them in General Convention, but he was repeatedly, in the absence of the Bishop-, chosen President of the State Convention, and was, at all times, a member of the Standing Committee of the Diocese. Two occasions occurred where his friends claimed for him an elevation to the Episcopal office. The first arose in 1801, on the resignation of Dr. Provoost, as well of the ofiSce of Rector of Trinity Church, as of his juris- diction as Bishop. The question then seems to have been decided by the action of the Vestry of Trinity Church, who, in giving effect, as we have seen, to an appointment of Dr. Moore, made by a Vestry elected by the Loyalists about the time of the evacuation of the city by the British, and which was at once repudiated, superseded Dr. Beach's claims as the Senior Assistant Minister. Though he became Assistant Rector in 1811, when the physical disability of Bishop Moore, who retained, however, the office 264 EPISCOPALIAN. both of Kector and of Bishop of New York during life, prevented his per- forming any active duties, he refused, as well on account of his age as other circumstances, to be a competitor for the place of Assistant Bishop, and to which Dr. Hobart was chosen, but not without some votes being, despite of his own request, lost for Dr. Beach. The earnest controversy pending at this time between Dr. Hobart and his colleague, the Rev. Cave Jones,* which gave rise to numerous pamphlets from both parties and their respective friends, in which not only many of the Clergy were involved, but in which the feelings of their parishioners were keenly enlisted, and which led to the dissolution of Mr. Jones' connection with Trinity Church, was not without its influence in inducing the final withdrawment of Dr. Beach from New York. On occasion of his resignation, which took place in March, 1813, the Vestry, " in consideration of his very long and faith- ful services in the Church, as one of its most faithful pastors, granted him an annuity of fifteen hundred pounds for life, secured by bond, under seal of the Corporation." For many years, while he continued in the active performance of his duties, there had been annually voted, in addition to the salary originally granted, a gratuity, varying from a thousand to fifteen hundred dollars; and as a mark of respect for him, when that portion of the city was laid out, one of the principal streets through the church farm, and forming the South side of John's or Hudson's Square, was distinguished by his name, — an appellation which it still bears. Of the College, which was established in 1770, at New Brunswick, though under the influence of the Reformed Dutch Church, he was an early and efficient Trustee. In 1786, he was elected a Regent of the University of the State of New York, and he was named, in the Charter of 1787, a Trustee of Columbia College j the duties of which latter place, including those of Secretary of the Board, he discharged as long as he remained in the State. From that institution he received, in 1789, the first occasion of its conferring honorary degrees, the diploma of Doctor of Divinity. With the Hospital, the City Dispensary, the Free School, and numerous other benevolent institutions, established in New York, during his residence there, he was efficiently connected ; and he took a deep interest in the Society for the Amelioration of the Condition of the Poor Prisoners, an Association having for its object the mitigation of that barbarous code, by which debtors were treated as felons, which then prevailed throughout the Union, but which is now abrogated in all the States, save one. The relief was extended not only by administering to the wants of the prisoners, but, in case of small debts, satisfying the claims against them, and thus procu- ring their release. • Cave Jones was born in the city of Now York in 1769, graduated at Columbia College in 1791 j was ordained by Bishop Madison of Virginia, and took charge of the church of St. George's Parish, Accomack, in that State, where he remained until 1801, when he accepted a call from Trinity Church, New York, as one of its Assistant Ministers. He relinquished this living in 1811, and was subsequently appointed, by President Monroe, a Chaplain in the Navy, and Principal of the Naval Seminary at Brooklyn, where he died on the 29th of January, 1829. While residing in Virginia, he was married to Mary Upshur of Accomack, who survived him twenty-four years, and at lier death left two daugliters. Bisliop Hobart, in his Address to the Convention of the Diocese, in October, 1829, referring to the Chaplaincy at Brooklyn, says, " It is understood that Mr. Jones, for several years, discharged the duties of that station with exemplary fidelity and zeal." Bishop Meade in his " Old Churches, Ministers, and Families of Virginia," speaks of Mr. Jones as " a man of talents and eloquence." ABRAHAM BEACH. 265 In his time, the modern notions in respect to African Slavery did not exist, but the institution was sustained, during the greater portion of his ministerial services, by the laws Ijoth of New Jersey and New York. How far the obligations imposed on us towards its objects were early recog- nised by him, may be learned by his Report to the Society for the Propa- gation of the Gospel, to which reference has already been made. He was, to the extent of his means, a practical abolitionist, or rather emancipation- ist. The negroes in the neighbourhood of his farm were all anxious to have him for their master, and his course was, when he bought one, at his request, to keep an exact account of his labour, allowing him the wages which a free man would earn, and whenever the money advanced for the purchase was repaid, he manumitted him. In his intercourse with society, no man could be more frank or more free from all guile. To every one, young or old, he had something appro- priate to say, and he freely entered into conversation, without requiring any introduction, with all whom he met ; while his dignified person, expres- sive countenance, and lively feelings, commanded the respect and affection of all who knew him. On Dr. Beach's resignation of his office in Trinity Church, he retired to his farm on the Earitan, which had never ceased to be his home, where, dispensing to the numerous clergy and friends of former times a modest hospitality suited to his age and profession, he resided with his eldest daughter, the widow of the Rev. Elijah D. Rattoone, D. D.,* a clergyman of distinguished abilities, cut off in the vigour of his life, and by her assi- duous care and that of his daughter, Mrs. Lawrence, then the wife of the late Isaac Lawrence, Esq., of New York, who frequently visited him, his days were prolonged to the 14th of September, 1828, when he died at the age of eighty-eight. A daughter, the wife of the late Rev. Thomas Lyell, D. D., Rector of Christ Church, New York, had died some years before him, and in the year preceding his own decease, he was called to mourn the loss of his youngest daughter, who, as well as her husband, the Rev. Abiel Carter, fell a victim to the Yellow Fever in Savannah, where he resided as the Rector of the Episcopal Church in that city. In the Church at New Brunswick, where he so many years ministered, is a tablet containing the following inscription, from the pen of the late James A. Hillhouse, who had married one of his granddaughters. " In the adjoining church yard lie interred the remains of Abraham Beach, D. D., who was ordained in London in 1767, to officiate in this church, where he faithfully performed his duty for seventeen years. After devoting twenty-nine years more to the sacred profession, in the city of * Elijah D. Rattoone was graduated at the College of New Jersey in 1787; was ordained Deacon by Bishop Provoost on the 10th of January, 1790; took charge, shortly after, of St. Ann s Church, Brooklyn j was elected, in 1792, Professor of the Latin and Greek Languages, and in 1794, Professor of Grecian and Uoman Antiquities, in Columbia College; resigned these several positions in 1797, and the same year became Rector of Grace Church, Jamaica, L. I., where he continued till April, 1802, when he accepted a call to the Associate Rectorship of St. P/iurs in Baltimore. Some peculiaroircurastancesinducedhim to resign thischargeafteranum* her of years, upon which. Trinity Church in the same city was at once built for him, where he ministered with his usual popularity till the fall of 1809. At that time he left Baltimore for Charleston, S. C, having been elected President of the Charleston College; and there he died, in the summer of 1810, of Yellow Fever. He received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the College of New Jersey, in 1803. He was a highly accomplished scholar and an eloquent preacher. Vol. V. 34 266 EPISCOPALIAN. New York, he returned to close his days amidst the scenes of his youthful exertions. Having completed his eighty-eighth year, he departed on the 14th of September, 1828, in the humble but assured hope of entering into the enjoyment of those promises of which he was so long the herald. He was born in Cheshire, Conn., September 9, 1740." I am, dear Sir, faithfully yours, WILLIAM BEACH LAWRENCE. JOSEPH PILMORE, D. D. 1769—1825. FROM THE REV. RICHARD D. HALL. Philadelphia, January 9, 1856. Kov. and dear Sir : I cheerfully comply with your request, that I should furnish you with some notices of the life and character of the late venera- ble Dr. Pilmore, Rector of St. Paul's Church in this city. I can speak of him with great confidence ; for he was at once my spiritual father and the guide of my youth. From 1806 to 1810, 1 was a member of his church, and was often in his company until his decease. And I confess I under- take the work you have assigned me with the more alacrity, from the fact that my father was a Vestryman in St. Paul's, and was acquainted with Dr. Pilmore as far back as the year 1793, — the time when our city was first visited by the Yellow Fever, of which my father died. Joseph Pilmore was born about the year 1734, in the village of Tad- mouth, Yorkshire, England. His parents were persons of respectability, and members of the Church of England. When he was about sixteen years old, he became acquainted with the Eev. John Wesley, who was then preaching in various parts of the United Kingdom, and became hopefully pious through his instrumentality. Mr. Wesley then gave him a situation in his famous school at Kingswood, where a number of the sons of his preachers were receiving an education. There he acquired a fair amount of English literature, as well as some knowledge of the Latin, Greek and Hebrew languages. Of the latter, Mr. Wesley, who was himself a fine scholar, had compiled a brief grammar, in 1732 ; a copy of which, together with a small Hebrew Bible, printed in 1701, were presented to me by Dr. Pilmore, with Mr. Wesley's autograph. During this season of study, of three or four years, Mr. P. acquired a taste for books and mental improve- ment, which remained through a long life. After finishing his studies at Kingswood, he was appointed by Mr. Wes- ley to travel as one of his itinerant lay preachers, or "helpers in the work of calling sinners to repentance," as he was wont to say on this point of his early history. He was not ordained by Mr. Wesley as a Minister of the Gospel, but merely travelled, and preached the Gospel in connection with him. He laboured in this way, with acceptance and success, in Eng- land, Scotland, Ireland and Wales, for several years. Many pleasing JOSEPH PILMORE. 267 events connected with the experience of those years, he used to relate to me. Among them I may mention his usefulness to some of the higher orders of society, and especially the kindness of the pious Lady Hunting- don and the Lady Maxwell ; — the former Mr. Whitefield's patroness, and he her Chaplain. He never professed to have been any thing in connection with Mr. Wesley but a " lay helper " in the work. He had a certificate to that effect, signed by Mr. W., according to the rule, and representing him as " having grace, gifts, and success, or fruit in the work." His success was great everywhere. His bodily presence, as well as his preaching, was impressive. His manly form, his tall and erect person, his natural and pleasant manner, his sympathizing spirit, his earnest prayers, all combined to make a powerful impression. And then his mellifluent voice, his striking gestures, his deep and tender concern for the salvation of his hearers, combined with a simple and affecting exhibition of Divine truth, gave him great power in the pulpit. During these years, when the blessing of God so greatly attended his labours, he said that he had to encounter little opposition, — that his path was so free from obstacles that he was sometimes tempted to believe that he was a stranger to the true spirit of the Gospel. Frequently he found the pommel of his saddle wet with tears on this account. But he found ere long that " the offence of the Cross had not ceased." At this important period of his labours, the Conference of Mr. Wesley and his preachers was in session at Leeds. And when the serious ques- tion was asked by Mr. W., — " Who will go over to America and plant the vine of the Gospel there ?" — Mr. P. was one who rose up and said, — " I will go ;" and he was accepted. This was in the year 1769, when he was about thirty-four years of age. He came, accordingly, and preached from Maine to Georgia, — North, South, East, and West, through the then thirteen Colonies. Many were the hair-breadth escapes of life and limb, by field and flood, which he had in his various journeys ; and not unfre- quently was his life in jeopardy from the malignity and violence of his persecutors. One instance of exposure to serious bodily injury, but which he assured me redounded to the glory of God and much spiritual good, occurred in the city of Charleston, S. C. He could obtain no place to preach in but the theatre ! And whilst he was earnestly engaged in his sermon, suddenly the table on which his Bible and Hymn Book lay, the chair he occupied, together with the Preacher himself, all disappeared from the stage, being let down through a trap door into the cellar ! This was a con- trivance of some of the " baser sort " to turn the laugh upon the preacher, and, if possible, to neutralize his efforts to do good. Nothing daunted, however, he sprang upon the stage again, by the aid of the table, and, taking in his hands both the table and the chair, invited his audience to accompany him to an adjoining yard, adding pleasantly, — " Gome on, my friends, we will, by the grace of God, defeat the Devil this time, and not be beat by him from our work ;" and there, in peace, he finished his dis- course. The fruits of this labour, as he assured me, years after this occur- rence, appeared in the conversion of many souls, the evidence of which was, from time to time, furnished to him. Vast crowds attended his ministry, wherever he appeared to deliver his Master's message. After his settle- 208 EPISCOPALIAN. ment in the Episcopal Church, individuals frequently made themselves known to him, as the fruit of his evangelical labours, from different parts of the country. When the War of the Revolution commenced, the preachers in connection with Mr. Wesley (and there were then several) thought it advisable to desist, in a great measure, for a while, from their travels and labours ; and this was the ease until the conclusion of the struggle. Immediately after the Peace of 1783, Mr. Pilmore thought it his duty to attach himself to the Protestant Episcopal Church, which was soon to arise out of the ruins of the Church of England in this country; as, for the Mother Church he had always professed much attachment and veneration. He had heard of the success of the Rev. Samuel Seabury, of Connecticut, in obtaining Conse- cration as Bishop from the Scotch Episcopal Church, and he determined to apply to him for ordination. This was in 1785. Dr. Seabury received him very kindly, and said to him,- — " Mr. Pilmore, I have heard a good account of you, and I will ordain you with pleasure ;" and he accordingly did ordain him Deacon on the 27th of November, and Priest on the 29th, after due canonical examination. Shortly after this, he received a call to the Rector- ship of the three United Parishes of Trinity (Oxford) ; All Saints, (Lower Dublin) ; and St. Thomas (Whitemarsh) ; — all in the vicinity of Philadel- phia. While Rector of these parishes he kept house near what was then called Poole's Bridge, in the upper part of Second Street, Philadelphia. He was then unmarried, and was remarkable for the number of marriages he celebrated — not less than a hundred annually. In connection with his labours in the country, we next find him employed, a portion of his time — from 1789 to 1794 — in St. Pauls' Church, Phila- delphia, as Assistant to the Rev. Dr. Magaw, then Rector, whose health was impaired, — to preach at least every Sunday night. After two services in the country, he performed a third in St. Paul's at night, where he had a vast assembly of attentive hearers, and many were hopefully brought to a knowledge of the truth. About this period, (1790,) Mr. Pilmore was married to a Mrs. Wood, of an ancient family in Philadelphia, who died in 1809, and was interred in Christ Church Cemetery. By this marriage he had an only child, — a daughter, who died in her fifth year. It was a sore affliction to the bereaved father, and at first he found it hard to be reconciled to the stroke ; but he was brought at length to say, — " It is the Lord, let Him do what seemeth Him good." He continued his labours in the country and in St. Paul's until 1794, passing through the Yellow Fever of 1793, with great usefulness in his ministry, and with extreme hazard of his own life. In 1794, he received and accepted a call to a new church in New York, called Christ Church, then on or near the site of the old Post Office, but now in Anthony Street. Here he continued to labour with great acceptance and usefulness for ton years, when, after the entire incapacity of Dr. Magaw, he was chosen his suc- cessor as Rector of St. Paul's, in 1804. In 1807, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the University of Pennsylvania. In 1821, in consequence of the incipient failure of his mental powers, induced by bodily indisposition, it was thought proper that he should have some JOSEPH PILMORE. 269 one to share the labours of his charge ; and the Rev. Benjamin Allen was, accordingly, chosen his Assistant. He continued gradually to fail, until the 24th of July, 1825, when he died in the ninety-first year of his age. During Dr. Pilmore's ministry in St. Paul's, he made a visit to Charles- ton, and there met with some old inhabitants who remembered his suc- cessful visit there prior to the Revolution; and ho found the fruits of it still manifest. He also made excursions, at different times, to the churches in the vicinity of Philadelphia, where his labours were greatly blest. His annual visit to the Lazaretto, on Easter Tuesday, where he preached in a large upper room in the Custom House building, was a season of much blessing to the neighbourhood. His Monthly Communion seasons, and the holy-days at St. Paul's, were times of great refreshing from the presence of the Lord, and of the manifestation of God's pardon- ing love to many souls ; and he was especially animated and impressive on all the solemn and joyful festivals of the Church. Whit-Sunday, — " Holy Ghost day," as he called it, was especially signalized as a day for ingath- ering souls to Christ. Pious hearts were filled with the "joy of the Spirit;" penitents were comforted; sinners awakened and converted; and great good, as in primitive days, was done in the name of the ascended Saviour. Such a large body of communicants, (about seven hundred,) and so knit together in the fellowship, and filled with the fruits, of the Spirit, it has never been my privilege to witness, or to know any where. His social meetings for prayer, in various parts of the city, were emi- nently useful, and blest to many, not only in the Episcopal Church, but out of it. I may add, as yet another fruit of Dr. Pilmore's labours, that several young men of the parish were called, by Divine grace, to the sacred min- istry, most of whom have accomplished their work on earth, and entered on their reward in Heaven. And I cannot forbear to say that I cherish the grateful hope of being permitted ere long to join my departed spiritual father and brethren of St. Paul's with whom I have taken sweet counsel, and walked to the house of God in company, — in celebrating, in nobler strains than we ever knew on earth, the praises of Him who loved us, and gave Himself for us. I am sincerely and fraternally yours, RICHARD D. HALL. FROM THE REy. B. T. WELCH, D. D. Newton Corners, near Albany, } 25th September, 1855. S My dear Sir: My recollections of Dr. Pilmore are not very extended; but such as they are, they are quite at your service. During several of my earlier years I was a resident of Philadelphia; and in 1814, while I was yet undecided as to the denomination with which I should connect myself, and was particularly interested in examining the claims of Episcopacy, I was for some time an atten- dant at his church. He was decidedly a man of mark, and left an impression upon my mind that can never be effaced. In person he was of porth- and noble bearing, and he moved with an air of uncommon dignity. His countenance was at once highly intellectual and highly benignant; and his appearance altogether was unusually prepossessing. The 270 EPISCOPALIAN. two most remarkable characteristics of his preaching, as I remember it, were evangelical fervour and simplicity. As for the matter of his discourses, he never wandered far away from the Cross; he delighted to dwell upon the char- iicter and work of Christ, and the grace of the Holy Spirit; and he was especi- ally at home on all topics connected immediately with experimental religion. He wrote his sermons, and whenever I heard him preach, his manuscript was always before him. He began not only by reading, but by reading very delib- erately, and with little animation; but he would gradually wax warm, and you would see his eye begin to kindle, and the muscles of his face to move and expand, until at length his soul would be all on Are, and he would be rushing onward extemporaneously almost with the fury of a cataract. And the only use he would make of his manuscript in such cases would be to roll it up in his hand, and literally shake it at his audience. When he was in these excited moods, his gesture was abundant; but at other times, — I mean when he was reading from his manuscript, — I think he gestured very little. He had a sono- rous and somewhat rotund voice, tliough not very musical. His enunciation was remarkably distinct, and every syllable and letter could be heard with ease. To me he appeared sometimes surpassingly eloquent, but T doubt not that it was his almost matchless unction that gave to his preaching its greatest power. Dr. Pilmore had been a minister in the Methodist Church, previous to his becoming an Episcopalian; and whatever else may have been the consequence of his transition from the one denomination to the other, it is quite certain that it did not involve the sacrifice of his burning zeal. Some of his brethren, I believe, were disposed to consider him as over-zealous, if not positively fanati- cal; and they reprobated some of his free movements, as scarcely consistent with the rules of his Church; but I never knew that any one doubted the strength of his religious principles, or the sincerity of his devotion to the cause of Christ. I can truly say that, though I sawreasons for not joining myself to his denomination, 1 sat under his ministry with great delight, and even at this late period, he rises up before me as one of the most venerable men whom I have ever seen in the pulpit. Yours truly, B. T. "WELCH. DAVID GRIFFITH, D. D. 1770—1789. FROM THE REV. CHARLES B. DANA, BECTOR OF CHKIST CHUKCH, ALEXANDKIA. Alexandeia, Va., June 27, 1857. Rev. and dear Sir : Though Dr. Griffith, concerning whom you inquire, was one of the most prominent Episcopal clergymen of his day in this country, and was Rector of the church of which I now have the charge, I regret to say that, with the two generations that have passed away since his death, much the greater part of the material for what might have been a satisfactory sketch of his life has perished. His daughter, however, still survives ; and, by conversations with her, as well as by gathering up the fragmentary traditions that remain concerning hipi, I have been able, I believe, to ascertain the leading events of his life, as well aa to form a DAVID GRIFFITH. 271 somewhat definite idea of his character. The result of my inquiries, such as it is, it gives me pleasure to communicate to you. David Griffith was born in the city of New York, in the year 1742. His father was a native of Wales ; migrated to America in early life ; was married to Sarah Winslow of New York, and settled on a farm on the East River. The son, after having enjoyed the best advantages for educa- tion that were furnished by his native city, went to England, where he continued for some time to prosecute his general studies, and ultimately graduated in London as a student of Medicine. He returned to America, and entered on his profession in the interior of the Province of New York, about the year 1763. On the 21st of October, 1766, he was married to Hannah, daughter of William Colville, of New York city. They had eight children, the eldest of whom was only sixteen at the time of their father's death. Mrs. Grif- fith died at Alexandria in the year 1811. After having been engaged a few years in the practice of Medicine, he abandoned the profession, and determined to enter the Ministry of the Episcopal Church. Accordingly, he went to England in the year 1770, and on the 19th of August of that year, received ordination from the Et. Rev. Dr. Tcrrick, Bishop of London. He returned, shortly after, as a Missionary of the Venerable Society to Gloucester County, N. J. But he could not have remained there long, for at the close of the next year, he took charge of Shelburne Parish, Loudon County, Va., to which he was recommended very highly by the Governor of Virginia. Here he continued until May, 1776, when, — being decidedly friendly to the American cause, — he entered the army as Chaplain to the third Virginia Regiment. In this service he continued till the close of the year 1779, when he resigned his place, with a view to enter upon the Rectorship of Christ Church, Alex- andria, to which he had already been chosen. He continued in this con- nection from 1780 till his death. He resided at Fairfax Glebe, and culti- vated the land as one means of support for his large family. Mr. Grifiith, not only during his connection with the army, but through the remainder of his life, is said to have enjoyed, in a high degree, the confidence of General Washington — indeed the General was, for a number of years, his parishioner. " Tradition says " — I use the language of Bishop Meade — " that on the night before the battle of Monmouth, he sought an interview with General Washington, and, in the presence of his Aids, bade him beware of General Charles Lee, though he was not at lib- erty to give his reasons or authority. When Lee unnecessarily and ingloriously retreated on the field of Monmouth, and almost lost America the battle, there were those who believed that he wished only to diminish the reputation of Washington, and receive the supreme command to him- self. We only give this as tradition." I may add that, though the tradi- tion has long been current, I am constrained to regard it as being at best of a doubtful character. I have now before me a letter of Dr. Griffith to his wife, written on the 30th of June, 1778, at Englishtown, two days after the battle, in which he makes no mention of his having made any communication to General Washington concerning General Lee, previous to the battle. He describes the battle, Lee's retreat, &c., " throwing 272 EPISCOPALIAN. every thing into confusion,- and seeming to frustrate General Washington's whole design." He begins the letter by saying, — " I have at last the hap- piness to inform you that we have had a day of glory and success." Farther on, he says, — " The battle was fought in Monmouth County, on the Glebe land of Dr. Tennent's father, eighteen miles from Brunswick, about the same distance from Shrewsbury, and four miles from this place.'' And again, — " Could we have called more troops into action, the victory would probably have been more decisive. But, as it is, I most sincerely give thanks to Him who is the Giver of all victory." Mr. Griffith always showed himself a firm friend to the Church with which he was connected, and ready, on all occasions, to put forth efforts and make sacrifices for the promotion of her interests. When a number of the Clergy from the Northern States met in the city of New York, in October, 1784, to devise measures for raising her from the depressed con- dition into which she had fallen, he appeared, of his own accord, from Virginia ; and there is no doubt that he was the first clergyman of our Church to propose a Convention for its organization, after its connection with the State had been terminated by the Revolution. In May, 1785, Mr. Griffith was a member of the first Convention of Clerical and Lay Deputies that met in Richmond, under the act of Incor- poration ; and he was appointed a delegate to the General Convention that met in Philadelphia in the ensuing autumn. At the second Virginia Con- vention, which was held in May, 1786, Dr." Griffith (for he received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the University of Pennsylvania in that year) was chosen Bishop by a vote of thirty-two members. He was so straitened in his pecuniary circumstances as to be unable to meet the expenses of a voyage to England for Consecration ; and, though there was an assessment laid upon the parishes, for three successive years, with a view to raise the necessary fuhds, yet so depressed was the condition of the Church that the object could not be accomplished. Accordingly, in May, 1789, he resigned his claim upon the office ; and when the Triennial Con- vention met in Philadelphia, on the 28th of July following, he formally tendered his resignation to them, on the first day of their session. The Doctor himself had come to attend it as a deputy from Virginia ; but his attendance was prevented by a sudden illness, which terminated speedily in his dissolution. He died at the house of his particular friend, Bishop White, on the 3d of August, 1789, in the forty-eighth year of his age. The following is an extract from the Minutes of the Convention : — " Monday, August 3, 1789. "In Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church of the United States of America; the President having informed the Convention, by message, of the melancholy event of the death of the Rev. Dr. Griffith, a member of this Convention for the State of Virginia, requesting that the necessary orders might be given respecting the Funeral : — "Resolved that the senior clergyman of the deputation of each State, except Virginia, attend the Funeral as a pall-bearer, (to-morrow;) that the other members of this Convention attend as mourners ; that a Sermon be preached on the occasion ; that the Clergy of all denominations within this city be invited to attend the Funeral ; that the Rev. Dr. Smith be appointed DAVID GRIFFITH. 273 to preach the Funeral Sermon ; and that the Et. Rev. Dr. White and Mr. Andrews, lay deputy from Virginia, be requested to walk as chief mourners." The following is an extract from Dr. Smith's Funeral Sermon : — " In the service of his country, during our late contest for liberty and independence, he was near and dear to our illustrious Commander in chief, — he was also his neighbour, and honoured and cherished by him as a pastor and friend. When, on the conclusion of the War, he returned to his pas- toral charge, and our Church, in these States, in the course of Divine Providence, were called to organize themselves as independent of all foreign authority, civil and ecclesiastical, he was, from the beginning, elected the chief clerical member to represent the numerous churches of Virginia in our General Conventions; and highly estimable he was amongst us. He was a sound and able divine, a true son, and afterwards a father, as a Bishop elect, of our Church ; with his voice always, with his pen occa- sionally, supporting and maintaining her just rights, and yielding his con- stant and zealous aid in carrying on the great work for which we are assem- bled at this time. " Full of a devout desire for the final accomplishment of this work, at the present time, he came to this city ; but it pleased the Sovereign Grood- ness otherwise to dispose of him, and to call him, as we trust, to become a member of the Church triumphant in Heaven. " With Christian patience and fortitude, though at a distance from his family, and his nearest relatives and friends, he sustained his short but severe illness. Friends, nevertheless, closed his eyes — friends and breth- ren now accompany him to the grave, mournful as to the flesh, but joyful and thankful to God in soul and spirit for his past usefulness and example." From all traditionary accounts of Dr. Griffith, it is evident that he was highly esteemed both as a Clergyman and a Christian Gentleman, and that he possessed much more than ordinary ability and very agreeable manners. I am informed, by Mr. Custis of Arlington, that he was a large, stout man, — compact and rather tall and strong ; that he was gentle and gen- tlemanlike, though firm ; that he was a favourite with the officers of the army ; that he associated intimately with the best and most refined families ; and was always a welcome guest at Mount Vernon. Believe me most truly yours, C.B.DANA. Vol. V. 35 274 EPISCOPALIAN. GIDEON BOSTWICK. 1770—1793. FROM THE HON.D. S. BOARDMAN. New Milfobd, Conn., February 8, 1858 Dear Sir : The Rev. Grideon Bostwick, concerning whom you inquire, was my mother's brother — a circumstance, which, as you may suppose, has rendered me quite familiar with his history. Such facts in relation to him as are within my knowledge, (and it is probable that I know as much of him as any other person now living,) it gives me pleasure to communicate to you. But the fact of my having already entered my ninetieth year may be an apology for my not furnishing you a very extended narrative. Gideon Bostwick was the fifth son, and eighth child, of Nathaniel and Esther (Hitchcock) Bostwick, and was born at New Milford, Conn., Sep- tember 21, (0. S.) 1742. The high respectability of his father is amply attested by the Eecords of the town in which he lived. He (the son) was fitted for College by the Eev. Nathaniel Taylor, the Congregational min- ister of New Milford, who, for a long time, was in the habit of giving instruction to youths whose object was a collegiate education. He was graduated at Yale College in 1762. Though the family to which he belonged were of the Congregational order, his own views underwent a change on the subject of Ecclesiastical polity and government, while he was in College ; through the influence, it is said, of a leading member of his class, afterwards a Tutor in the College, by the name of Punderson Austin, with whom he was very intimate. Sometime after his graduation, Mr. Bostwick was solicited by the Hon. Dr. William Whiting and Col. Dwight, of Great Barrington, to take charge of a classical school, then recently established in that place, under their especial patronage. He accepted the invitation, and, in consequence there- of. Great Barrington became his permanent residence for life. The Dutch settlers of Great Barrington were Lutherans. Dr. Whiting and Colonel Dwight, having seceded from the Congregational order, on account of their attachment to Episcopacy, united with these Lutherans, and perhaps some others, about the year 1760, and were organized as " the " (Episcopal) "Society of St. James," by the Rev. Solomon Palmer, agrad- uate of Yale College in 1729, then a missionary at Litchfield and New Milford, Conn. Sustained by the Society in England for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts, he was removed to the Episcopal Congregation in Great Barrington in 1763, but resumed his charge in Litchfield in 1766, where he died in 1771. It is understood that he preached in Great Bar- rington, both before and after his labours in New Haven ; but how fre- quently is not known. At any rate, Mr. Bostwick officiated here as lay reader, for some time before Mr. Palmer's death ; and this ultimately led to a determination, on his part, to become a candidate for Holy Orders ; in consequence of which he repaired to England, and was ordained Deacon by the Bishop of London, and Priest three months after. He returned in 1770, and in June of that year, took the Rectorship of St. James' Church GIDEON BOSTWICK. 275 Great Barrington, which he held with great satisfaction to the people of his charge until the close of his life. He also had charge, during the same period, of St. Luke's Church in Lanesborough, officiating there one Sab- bath in four. Some few years before his death, Mr. Bostwick preached partof the time to an Episcopal church at Hudson, N. Y., which, if I mistake not, was organized under his auspices. Desirous of being relieved of some portion of his accumulated duties, he induced a Mr. Daniel Burhans (afterwards the Rev. Dr. Burhans) who had, for many years, resided at Lanesborough in the capacity of a teacher, and who, in Mr. Bostwiek's absence, usually officiated as lay reader for the church there, — to become a candidate for that church. At the Episcopal Convention holden at Middletown in June, 1793, Mr. Bostwick accordingly presented Mr. Burhans for Orders to Bishop Seabury, — as the Churches of Great Barrington and Lanesborough then belonged to the Diocese of Connecticut ; and, at the same time that he was ordained, he was constituted Mr. Bostwiek's successor in the Rec- torship of the Church at Lanesborough. Mr. Bostwick, on leaving Middletown, came to this place, (New Milford,) with the intention of paying a short visit to his friends and relatives here : but it turned out that he came hither to die. Shortly after his arrival, he was seized with a violent illness, (pneumonia,) which, in a very short period, had a fatal termination. He died at my father's house, on the 13th of June, 1798, aged fifty years. His remains were temporarily buried here, but were subsequently removed to Great Barrington, which had so long been the place of his residence and the scene of his labours. Mr. Bostwick was married, not far from the time of his ordination, to Gesie, daughter of John Burghardt, of Great Barrington, a lady of Dutch descent, as the name indicates, of respectable family, and of great per- sonal worth. Mrs. Bostwick died on the 16th of May, 1787, aged thirty- nine years. The offspring of this marriage was eight children, — four sons and four daughters. The children, being bereft of both father and mother, and left, at an early age, in a state of almost entire dependance, became the objects of much sympathy with his numerous friends. The youngest daughter, then some six or seven years old, became an inmate of my father's family, where she was brought up. She is a highly respectable woman, — the wife of Dr. Benajah Ticknor, one of the oldest, if not the very oldest, of the Surgeons in the United States Navy ; and the youngest Son (the youngest child) was taken and brought up by a friend of his father, residing in West Bloomfield, N. Y., where he has always remained. The residue of the family (except the second daughter, who resided with her relatives and friends in Great Barrington and New Milford until her marriage) were, by the aid of their friends, removed to London District, Upper Canada. In the time of the Revolutionary War, Mr. Bostwick, like all the other Episcopal clergymen of New England, adhered to the Royal cause ; and in consequence thereof, the British Government made provision, to a limited amount, for such as would remove into either of the Provinces of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, or Canada, with their families. It seems this provision was, by the Colonial government of Canada, allowed to come to the benefit of such of Mr. Bostwiek's family as became perma- 276 EPISCOPALIAN. nent residents of London District. John, the second son, became High Sheriff of the District, or the County to which it belongs, and a Colonel of the Militia, during the War of 1812-15. And Henry, who was a prac-. tising lawyer in York, (now Toronto,) was also a Colonel during that war. The first and third daughters, who were never married, kept a distinguished school, and thereby obtained both reputation as teachers, and a good living. The second daughter, above mentioned, married Herman Canfield, Esq., of this town, and with him, at an early period of settlements in Ohio, removed to the town of Canfield, in that State, where he became Judge of the County Court for Trumbull County ; and two of their sons are now very respectable lawyers in the County of Medina. Thus it appears that the family of Mr. Bostwick, left apparently in the most unpromising con- dition, have been quite prosperous in life. I believe the two youngest children arc the only ones who now survive. • As a Pastor, I have always understood that Mr. Bostwick was most acceptable to his people, and greatly beloved by them. As a Preacher, he was sensible, dignified and attractive, and was regarded as one of the first in the Diocese to which he belonged. His manner of reading the Episco- pal Service was, I think, in solemnity and impressiveness, superior to that of any other clergyman whom I remember to have heard. In social inter- course, he was cheerful, facetious and entertaining ; and his general deport- ment was such as to render him exceedingly popular with the community at large. His death was deeply lamented as a great public loss. I remain, with unfeigned respect and esteem. Your obedient servant, D. S. BOAKDMAN. FEOM THE REV. G. L. PLATT, hector of st. james' chukch, gbeai babkingtoh, uas3. St. James' Rectoet, Great Bareington, \ February 10, 1858. J Kev. and dear Sir : Though the Eev. Gideon Bostwick was one of my prede- cessors in the ministry, and was evidently a man of mark in his day, — so long a period has elapsed since his death, that it is only a few fragmentary notices that I am able to send you concerning him. That his ministry was distinguished for untiring zeal and fidelity, there can be no doubt. His Records, which are now in my hands, show that, during a ministry of twenty-three years, he baptized eighty-one adults, and two thousand two hundred and forty-four children; joined in marriage a hundred and twenty- seven couple; and attended eighty-four funerals. From this Record, which is altogether a very interesting document, it appears that he went into all the neigh- bouring country, extending his visits to localities in the States of Vermont, Con- necticut, and New York, as well as Massachusetts; and from the rapid succession of dates in different and distant towns, it would seem that he must have been on horseback, or in his vehicle, much of his time, — travelling from place to place in the discharge of the duties of his ministry. He is justly said to have been a faithful and godly man, — " indefatigable in his labours; devout in his religious affections; humane and benevolent in his feelings; of cheerful, facetious humour; plain, courteous and affable in his manners, and much beloved by his people." He was one of the early self-denying Evangelists of his Church, doing a prepara- tory work in a wide region of country, which has largely contributed to its rcli- GIDEON BOSTWICK. 277 gious prosperity in a succeeding age. His name has long been held in honoured and grateful remembrance by the venerable among God's people in an extended circle around his Barrington home; and it well deserves to be perpetuated. I may mention a single incident illustrating his character, which has been communicated to me. The late venerable Judge Moore, of Rensselaerville, N. Y., during the Revolution, was in Barrington with a company of soldiers. He was, at that time, but seventeen years of age. Mr. Bostwick came into the encampment, and noticing the young man, said to him, — " You are too young to be among the soldiers — come and stay at my house." He did so. And the impression of his kindness was ever most gratefully remembered. The Judge afterwards became a Christian man, and a zealous supporter of the Episcopal Church in his own village. He often spoke with great pleasure of this incident in the life of Mr. Bostwick. I remain very truly yours, G. LEWIS PLATT. NICHOLAS COLLIN, D. D * 1770—1831. FROM THE REV. JEHU 0. CLAY, D. D. Philadelphia, October 10, 1856. Rev. and dear Sir : Your request that I would furnish you with a brief biographical notice of the late Rev. Nicholas Collin, D. D., Rector for a long time of the Swedish Churches in Pennsylvania, it gives me pleasure to comply with. I was, for many years, acquainted with him, and, for several years, was one of his Assistant Ministers. My father, too, before me, was associated with him in having charge, as his Assistant, of the Swedish Church at Upper Merion, Montgomery County. So that, while I was yet a boy, I was occasionally brought into contact with him. Nicholas Collin was bom in Sweden, in the year 1745, and received a classical education in his native country. He was designed, in the early part of his life, for the army, but as he grew up to manhood, he directed his attention to the ministry, preferring to be a soldier in the cause of Christ, involving the salvation of the souls of men, to being a soldier in a cause which involved the destruction of men's lives. On the 12th of May, 1770, being twenty-five years of age, he arrived in the River Dela- ware, as " Minister Extraordinary" to the Swedish Churches in New Jer- sey and Pennsylvania. This title merely implied that he was not sent over as Rector of any particular church or congregation, but was to labour as an Assistant at large to the Rectors already here. In 1773, he became * In reply to an inquiry whether Dr. Collin could be fairly reckoned among the Episcopal Clergy, Dr. Clay writes thus : — " With regard to the Doctor's being an Episcopal clergyman, it is certain he was not in, connection with the Episcopal Church in the United States. He was ordained in Sweden, and was sent out here as one of the Missionaries of the Swedish Church, and to that Church he always considered himself as owing allegiance. But as the Church of Sweden, though calling itself Lutheran, is in fact Episcopal, might he not pass as an Episco- pal Clergyman? His Assistant Ministers were always of the Episcopal Church, and he always used our Liturgy. And now that the Swedish Mission has ceased, all the churches connected with the Mission have naturally come into connection with the Episcopal Church of the United States." 278 EPISCOPALIAN. Rector of the Churclies at Eacoon and Penn's Neck, in consequence of the recall of the Eev. Mr. Wiesell,* and his appointment to an important parish in Sweden. He continued there (his residence being at Swedes- borough) until July, 1786. In 1778, in consequence of the privations and difficulties growing out of the War of the Revolution, he solicited in pressing terms from the Archbishop and Consistory at Upsal for his recall, and the preferment to which he considered himself entitled at home. In this he acted in accordance with a promise made to her Missionaries by the Church in Sweden, as an inducement to them to encounter the perils of a long voyage, and the privations connected with the missionary life. In this application he was, for some time, unsuccessful, because the King of Sweden thought it proper that the Missionaries should remain at their stations until the result of the War should be known. In 1783, he received his recall, and he thus speaks of it in some memoranda he has left of his Mission: — " I should then with pleasure have returned to my dear native country ; but personal concerns and anxiety for my ecclesiasti- cal trust determined me still to continue for some time, especially as the urgent plea of necessity had now ceased with the return of Peace." He made known this determination to the Consistory, and at the same time expressed his willingness to take charge of the Churches of Wicaco, — as it was then called, — on the Delaware, (now within the limits of the city of Philadelphia,) Kingsessing, and Upper Merion, in Pennsylvania, made vacant by the return home of the Rev. Mr. Hultgren.t His suggestion was complied with, and he took up his residence in Philadelphia, as Rector of the Churches, in July, 1786. In 1788, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the University of Pennsylvania. During seven years of his residence at Swedesborough, he filled the office of " Pro- vost " of the Swedish Churches, in which he exercised a superintending or supervisory care over the whole of the churches in Pennsylvania, the principal of which is that of Wicaco, (Gloria Dei,) built in 1700. He was Rector for a period of forty-five years, or up to October, 1831, at which time death called him away, at the advanced age of eighty-six years. Dr. Collin was regarded as a man of considerable learning. He was, however, more particularly known as a linguist, having been acquainted with some twelve or fourteen different languages. He was, for many years, a member of the American Philosophical Society, and also one of its Vice Presidents, often attending its meetings, and sometimes reading before it contributions from his pen. His sermons he never wrote out, but delivered them extemporaneously, and in the most plain and simple manner. His pulpit efi'orts were more like talking than preaching. I never heard of his discussing points of doctrine in the pulpit — he was fond of selecting subjects illustrative of the goodness of God, especially as displayed in the works of nature and of providence. I have heard the late Rev. Dr. Milnor, of New York, who was a native of Philadelphia, — where he practised law in the early part of his life, — relate the following anecdote in regard to Dr. * Rev. John Wiesell was Rector of Penn's Neck and Racoon (Swedesborough) Churches, from 1762 to 1774. The tradition is that he was an active, efficient minister, and did much for the temporal as well as the spiritual Interests of his congregations. + The Rev. Mattrias Htiltsrbn was Rector of the Swedish Churches in Pennsylvania, from 1780 to 1786, or until Dr. Collin took charge. He died in 1809. NICHOLAS COLLIN. 279 Collin's peculiar notions on the subject of preaching : — About the time that Mr. Milnor was relinquishing the Bar for the Pulpit, Dr. Collin, meet- ing with him, expressed his satisfaction at hearing that he was about to enter the ministry. He went on to say that he (the Doctor) had been many years a minister, and might therefore take the liberty of giving him some little counsel, as to the most profitable way of exercising the ministry. Mr. BI. answered that he would be very glad to have the Doctor's views on the subject. " Well then, Mr. Milnor," says the Doctor, " when you begin to preach, let me advise you not to preach too much on the subject of Religion." " Why, what then should I preach on ?" answered Mr. M. " There are many subjects," replied the Doctor, " from which a clergyman may draw useful and instructive lessons for his people, — such as the works of God in creation," — mentioning, at the same time, that he himself had only the Sunday before preached to his people on such a topic. Dr. Collin was married during his residence at Swedesborough, and about the year 1776, to a lady by the name of Hannah Fislet. She was cut down by the Yellow Fever of 1797 — a malady to which some thousands of the inhabit- ants fell victims. He caused a tablet to be raised, on which he says, — " He erected this monumental record of her piety, kindness, economy, neatness ; her faithful affection to him in many trying scenes ; of his grief which shall not cease until they meet in the land of the living." He published, at the time, in one of the daily papers of the city, what he called " Solemn Warnings ;" in which he pointed out what he considered to be the best mode of avoiding the pestilence, or of treating it. There was a great deal of simplicity and benevolence in the Doctor's character. He was one of the most inoffensive of men, — avoiding every thing that was calculated to wound the feelings of another, and ever ready to do an act of kindness. He was very fond of children, and wherever he went, would load his pockets with candies and other things that he thought would afford them pleasure. His garden, too, which was one of the finest in Philadelphia, and which contained a variety of excellent fruit, was the source of many a treat to the neighbouring children. Hence, though he was not considered an eloquent preacher, he was regarded by the people generally as a most worthy and benevolent man, and as such was, by all, held in high esteem. He performed the ceremony of marriage more fre- quently than any other clergyman in Philadelphia, and was always careful to make a record of each marriage in the most full and accurate manner. And he has left behind him, too, a long list of those he refused to marry, giving his reasons for so doing, some of which are amusing enough. I may add that his features were prominent and sharp, and those who had seen him once never failed to recognise him afterwards. The only work which Dr. Collin has left behind him, is a manuscript translation of Acrelius' History of New Sweden, which he undertook in 1799, at the request of the Historical Society of New York, in whose pos- session it now is. Little remains to show what were his capabilities as an author, but much is remembered to indicate what were his virtues as a man. Dr. Collin left no children, and never had any that survived infancy. Very respectfully yours, J. C. CLAY. 280 EPISCOPALIAN. RT. REV WILLIAM WHITE, D. D * 1770—1836. "William White was the son of Col. Thomas White, who emigrated from London to this country in early life, and settled on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, where he was engaged in the practice of the Law. He (the father) married for his first wife a daughter of Aquila Hall, by whom he had two children. Some years after her death, he removed to Philadel- phia, and married a widow at Burlington, N. J., by the name of Newman, by whom also, he had two children, — a daughter and a son. The daughter, (Mary,) the elder of the two, became the wife of Robert Morris, Signer of the Declaration of Independence. The son, (William,) the subject of this sketch, was born in Philadelphia on the 26th of March, (0. S.) 1748. At the age of seven, he was placed in the English department of the pre- paratory school of the then newly established College of Philadelphia. Here he was under the instruction of a very popular teacher, by the name of Ebenezer Kinnersley ; and at the age of ten, he was placed at the Gram- mar School of the same institution, under the care of Paul Jackson. At fourteen, he entered the College itself, where he graduated in the year 1765. His mother was a lady of great moral worth, and inculcated upon him the obligations of religion from the time that she could make her pious teach- ings intelligible to him. The impressions which she made upon his youth- ful mind were not a little aided and strengthened by the preaching of Whitefield, which he had often the opportunity of hearing, and which he was accustomed to speak of as greatly exceeding in popular effect any to which he ever listened. Having chosen the ministry as his profession, and directed his attention for some time to Theology, he embarked for London in October, 1770, with a view to obtain Episcopal Ordination. Having presented himself to Dr. Richard Terrick, the Bishop of London, he received " Letters Dimissory " to Dr. Young, the Bishop of Norwich, who ordained him Deacon in the Royal Chapel, on the 23d of December, of the same year ; and in June, 1772, the Bishop of London himself ordained him Priest. He left England for this country immediately after, and reached Philadelphia, after a tedious passage, on the 13th of September. Previous to his leaving England, he had received an intimation from the Vestry of Christ Church, and St. Peter's, that those churches would desire his ser- vices in the capacity of an Assistant Minister; and, shortly after his arrival, measures were taken by which himself and his intimate friend, the Rev. Thomas Coombe,t became joint Assistants to the Rev. Dr. Peters. • Wilson's Memoir.— Dorr's Hist. Chr. Ch. Phil.— MS. from T. H. White, Esq . 1 3'v^'"''*-^ CooMBE was born in Philadelphia ; was graduated at the College in Ks native city, m 1766; and was chosen Assistant Mmister of the United Churches of Chrfst Church and St. Peter's, Philadelphia, on the 30th of November, 1772. In September, 1777, he was arrested .ind confined, by order of the President and Council of Pennsylvania, on the "general charge of haying evinced a disposition inimical to the cause of America." An appeal was made in his behalf to the Supreme Executive Council, by the Hector, Warden, and Vestrymen, in which they earnestly request that he may be admitted '• to a hearing in the face of his country." The Council, through their Vice President, George Bryan, replied that his case wm wholly "WILLIAM "WHITE. 281 He continued in the peaceful and acceptable discliarge of his official duties, until the War of the Revolution, when he openly espoused the cause of his country. He offered the prayers for the King and the Koyal Family, until the Sunday immediately preceding the Declaration of Inde- pendence ; but he then ceased to do so, and took the oath of allegiance to the United States. In September, 1777, he retired with his family to the house of his brother-in-law, Mr. Aquila Hall, in Harford County, Md., at the very time when the British army were advancing to take possession of Philadelphia. At this eventful crisis, he received notice that Congress, who had then fled to Yorktown, had chosen him as their Chaplain, in connection with the Rev. Dr. Duffield, of the Presbyterian Church. Though there were many personal considerations adverse to his accepting the appoint- ment, he felt that he could not, in consistency with his convictions of duty, decline it ; and he accordingly accepted it, dividing the time between Con- gress and his family, which the alternate chaplainship permitted, until the evacuation of Philadelphia in June following. He continued to be re- elected to this office till the removal of the seat of Grovernment to the District of Columbia ; but he never introduced political discussions in the pulpit. Not only his immediate associates in the ministry, Mr. Duche and Mr. Combe, had left the country, on account of their opposition to the claims of the Colonies, but so many of their brethren had followed that Mr. "White is said to have been, at one time, the only clerical representative of Episcopacy in Pennsylvania. On the 15th of April, 1779, he was elected Rector of the United Churches in which he had been an Assistant ; and he continued in that office till the close of life. The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him, by the Uni- versity of Pennsylvania, in 1782 — the first year in which that degree was ever conferred by that institution. The Episcopal Clergy of Connecticut, in the year 1784, chose for their Bishop Dr. Samuel Seabury ; but, as he found insuperable difficulties in the way of his Consecration in England, he obtained the Episcopate from the Non-juring Bishops of Scotland. As, however, the Episcopal Church in this country was a branch of the English Church, it was considered specially desirable to procure the succession there ; and, accordingly, in the fall of 1786, it was determined that Dr. Provoost of New York, Dr. "White of Pennsylvania, and Dr. Griffith of "Virginia, should proceed to England for Consecration. Dr. Griffith was prevented from going ; but Dr. Provoost and Dr. White sailed for England early in the autumn. After a passage of eighteen days, — said to have been the shortest which had then ever been known, — they arrived at Falmouth; and in due time were presented to the Archbishop of Canterbury, by John Adams, then American Ambassador at the Court of Saint James. An Act of Parlia- poUtioal J that, before the Address from the "Vestry, the Council had determined to send him away ; and that his connection with their congregations could not be admitted as a plea in his behalf. In July, 1778, he tendered the resignation of his charge, and went to England, carry- ing vvith him a letter from his Vestry to the Lord Bishop of London, assuring his Lordship of their full approbation of his ministry among them. Mr. Coombe did not return to this country. He resided, for some time, in Ireland, as Chaplain to Lord Carlisle ; and, besides obtaining the- degree of Doctor of Divinity from Trinity College, Dublin, he was presented by his patron with a parish. He was also a Prebendary of Canterbury, and one of the forty-eight Chaplains tO' the King. Vol. V. 36 282 EPISCOPALIAN. ment, authorizing the measure, having been passed, Dr. White and Dr. Provoost were consecrated in the Chapel of the Archiepisoopal Palace, at Lambeth, by Dr. John Moore, Archbishop of Canterbury, assisted by Dr. Markham, Archbishop of York, Dr. Moss, Bishop of Bath and Wells, and Dr. Hinchliff, Bishop of Peterborough. Dr. White, being the Senior, received the imposition of hands first, and thus became the first American Bishop of the English line. The Consecration took place on the 4th of li'ebruary, 1787. The two Bishops immediately returned, reached the United States on the 7th of April, and they entered at once on their official duties. Their visit seems to have been one of great interest, especially as it gave them an opportunity of renewing the acquaintances of their earlier years. Bishop White was instant in season and out of season in the discharge of all the Episcopal functions. The history of his life is, to a great extent, the history of the American Episcopal Church during the period in which he lived. After his return to this country, Dr. Madison was chosen Bishop of Virginia, Dr. Griffith having declined the office and died ; and that the canonical number of three might be obtained from the English Church, he proceeded to England in 1790 to be consecrated there. The first persons whom he admitted to Holy Orders, after his return, were Joseph Clarkson* and Joseph Couden, who were ordained Deacons on the 28th of May, 1787. The first person elected to the Episcopate after this, was Dr. Thomas John Claggett, for Maryland ; and Bishop White, modestly yield- ing the prerogative of seniority to the courtesy of rotation. Dr. Claggett was consecrated by Bishop Provoost, — Bishops White, Seabury, and Madi- son, being present and assisting. The next Bishop was Dr. Robert Smith, for South Carolina ; and he was consecrated by Bishop White in Christ Church, Philadelphia. Prom that time till the time of his death, all the American Bishops received Consecration at his hands, the last in the series being Bishop Kemper of the Western Mission. On the last Sunday of June, 1836, Bishop White preached at St. Peter's, what proved to be his last sermon. On the next Sunday, (the 3d of July,) he rose very early, before daylight ; and, by some accident, as he himself stated, fell upon the fioor at his bedside. Though the injury which he received seemed slight, he never afterwards recovered from the shock. Prom this time, he was confined to his bed till Sunday the 17th, when death gently removed him from the scene of his pilgrimage, in the eighty-ninth year of his age. In the approach of death, he exhibited the utmost serenity of spirit, and expressed his entire confidence in his •Joseph Claekson was born in 1766. He was a son of Dr. Gerardus Clarkson, a promi- nent physician of Philadelphia, who was a lay delegate to the General Convention of 17S9, and for many years a Vestryman of Christ Church and St. Peter's. During the early part of the Revolutionary War, Mr. Clarkson attended a classical school, then of great repute, kept by Dr. Robert Smith, a Presbyterian clergyman, in Lancaster County, Pa. He graduated at the University of Pennsylvania in 1782, and received the degree of Master of Arts from the College of New Jersey in 1785. Having studied for the ministry, and been admitted to Dea- con's Orders, he acted as Secretary to the House of Bishops the same year, (1787.) He began his ministry in Philadelphia, but soon removed to Wilmington, and officiated in the old Swedes' Church until 1799. In April of that year, he accepted a call to St. James' Church, Lancaster, Pa., where he remained until his death. His field of labour embraced, beside the city, two country parishes. He died January 26, 1830. One of the daughters of Mr. Clark- son was niarried to , the Rev. Samuel Bowman, D. D., recently elected Assistant Bishop of Pennsylvania, and three of his grandsons are now in the ministry of the Episcopal Chui-ch. "WILLIAM WHITE. 283 Redeemer's merits. Various hymns were sung by his bedside, at his request, in which he seemed silently to join with the most devout fer- vour. He was buried on the 21st of July, in his family vault, in the cemetery attached to Christ Church. The Burial Service was read over his remains by his Assistant, the Rev. John W. James.* The following is a list of Bishop White's publications, exclusive of his contributions to periodicals, &c., which were very numerous ; — The Case of the Episcopal Churches in the United States considered, 1782. Thoughts on the Singing of Psalms and Anthems in Churches, signed " Silas," 1808. An Opinion relative to a supposed case of Intended Marriage, 1809. Lectures on the Catechism of the Protestant Episcopal Church : With Supplementary Lectures ; one on the Ministry, the other on the Public Service ; and Dissertations on Select Subjects in the Lectures, one vol., 8vo., 1813. An Address to the Female Bible Society, 1814. Compara- tive Views of the Controversy between the Calvinists and the Arminians. Two vols., 8vo., 1817. An Essay containing Objections against the Posi- tion of a Personal Assurance of the Pardon of Sin, by a Direct Commu- nication of the Holy Spirit. [First published in the Christian Register, New York, 1816 ; and afterwards in pamphlet form, with notes occasioned by a pamphlet containing remarks on the Essay under the name of " A Reply," 1817.] Memoirs of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the Uni- ted States of America. One vol., 8vo., 1820. A Commentary on the Questions in the Offices for the Ordaining of Priests and Deacons ; and a Commentary on the Duties of the Public Ministry. [These were first pub- lished in the " Quarterly Theological Magazine and Religious Repository '' for 1813 and 1814 ; and afterwards in one volume, 8vo., in 1838.] Twenty- four Sermons on different occasions from 1784 to 1833. Five Episcopal Charges in 1807, 1825, 1831, 1832, and 1834. The Pastoral Letters of the House of Bishops, from 1808 to 1835, inclusive. Five Addresses to the Trustees, Professors and Students of the General Theological Semi- nary, in 1822, 1824, 1827, 1828, and 1829. Considerations expressed with brevity in reference to the Institutions and Practices of the Episcopal Church ; and addressed by the Pastor of three Congregations to those of his Parishioners, by whom they are entirely or in part disregarded. On the 11th of February, 1773, Mr. White was married to Mary Har- rison, a young lady of excellent character, to whom he had been attached for several years. Her parents emigrated from Lancashire, England. Her father, originally a sea Captain, became a successful merchant ; an Alderman, and for some time Mayor, of Philadelphia ; and an efiicient Warden and Vestryman of Christ Church. With this lady Mr. White lived in the enjoyment of the highest domestic happiness, until her death, • The Rev. John Waller James, who had previously been Koctor of Christ Church, Mead- rille, Pa., was elected Assistant Minister in Christ Church, Philadelphia, on the 29th of June, 1832, and entered on his duties there in September following. On the 21st of July, 1836, he was elected Bishop White's successor in the Ileotorship of the Church. While the church edi- fice was undergoing repairs, immediately after, he availed himself of the opportunity to visit his family and friends at the West, and had reached Huntingdon, upon the canal, on his way to Pittsburgh, when he became so ill that he was taken to an inn, where he died on Sunday morning, August 14th. His remains were removed to Philadelphia, and deposited in a vault near tie tomb of Bishop White; whose funeral solemnities he had assisted in conducting but one month before. 284 EPISCOPALIAN. ■ffliiok took place on the 13th of December, 1797. He never married afterwards. They had eight children, one of whom, Thomas H., born November 12, 1779, still (1858,) survives in a green old age. I had the pleasure of a slight acquaintance with Bishop White, — suffi- cient to render him an object of my enduring gratitude and veneration. I was first introduced to him, in 1816, by a letter from a lady in Virginia, between whom and himself there had long existed an intimate friendship ; and the kind and genial manner in which I was received by him, satisfied me that I could not have presented myself under better auspices. His person seemed to memajestic. His countenance was divided between intel- ligence and loveliness, and occasionally, it would light up into a fountain of sunbeams. The almond tree was in full blossom. His manner was so simple and natural and yet so cultivated ; so dignified and yet so bland and winning, and his conversation was so rich and edifying, and withal such a revelation of the past, that it really seemed to me that I had then never stood in a presence, in which all the virtues and all the graces were brought together in such goodly fellowship. I had another interview with him, a few years after I entered the ministry, which only confirmed my previous impressions of the beauty and elevation of his character. I had occasion also, at two or three different periods, to ask favours of him, and they were granted as cheerfully and promptly as if I had always sustained to him the relation of an intimate friend. His whole character seemed to me radiant with wisdom, dignity, and purity. FROM THE ET. REV. HENRY TJ. ONDERDONK, D. D., lATE BISHOP OP THE DIOCESE OP PENNSYLVANIA. Philadelphia, September 17, 1847. Eev. and dear Sir : I received yesterday your letter of the 27th ult, request- ing my recollections of the late Bishop White. Very frequent absence from the city prevented my having as much social intercourse with the good Bishop as might at first be supposed — indeed a large portion of my intercourse with him was of a mere business character, or at least more so than strictly familiar; and hence I fear that my recollections will supply little that can be of general interest. My estimate of his high moral position is contained in the Funeral Sermon, of which I take the liberty of sending you a copy; — an estimate formed and matured by long observation and reflection, and from which I have found no reason to vary. Bishop White's theological opinions are contained in his several works — they were decidedly Anti-Calvinistic, and may be classed with what was currently denominated Arminianism in the last century; which, however, you are aware, was not the system of Arminius. He was, to the last, strongly opposed to the theory comprised in the words Priest, Altar, Sacrifice ; this being one of the very few points on which he was highly sensitive. The good Bishop's ecclesias- tical views were those known in history as Low-church — it was not the Low- churchriianship of the present day, but that of Tillotson, Burnet, and that por- tion of the English Divines with which they were associated. He regarded with no favour stimulating methods, extempore prayer, deviations from the Liturgy, (fee. Yet, though stern against the Priestly doctrine, as well as decidedly averse to modern Low-ohurchmanship, he was, on the one hand, most particularly attached to Bishop Hobart, and very largely under his influence, except fa the few matters of which he was eminently tenacious; while, on the other hand, he WILLIAM WHITE. 285 was not only courteous, but altogether friendly with leaders on the opposite side. In which facts may plainly enough be read the almost unbounded amiableness of his temper and principles. Bishop White was prominent in organizing the American Episcopal Church. That he was equally so in arranging the Prayer Boole is not probable. He was on the Committee that formed what is called " the Proposed Book," which soon passed away, and of which Dr. William Smith (the elder) was, I have no doubt, the chief projector — he was Chairman of the Committee and received a special vote of thanlis, in 1785. Our present Liturgy is but the English one, with unimportant changes, except the addition to the Communion Service, which is due to Bi.shopSeabury,and to which Bishop White was opposed, — though yield- ing to the urgency of his compeer. The Institution OfBce is later, and the pro- duction of Dr. William Smith, the younger. There was no reserve with Bishop White in avowing his age. But, till within a few years of his death, he was very unwilling to be thought /eeiie. A con- siderable time before I came to Philadelphia, his Vestries, I understand, had released him from attending funerals; but I almost always, in those at which I was present, observed him, not among the Clergy, but in the general train of followers. He did not like that any one should accompany him home in the evening. On one occasion, I was doing so, yet endeavouring to conceal my pur- pose. At length, finding that I went several squares out of the way to my house, he stopped, and, turning to me, said, " I believe I must tell you as Gen- eral Washington once did some friends, — " Gentlemen, if you see me home, I shall see you home." It was but a few years before his death, that he began to use a cane. For a year or two he accepted, in walking, the arm of his son. You are heartily welcome, my dear Sir, to the foregoing statement; and my only regret is that I cannot extend it to matters of greater and more general interest. Very respectfully. Your obedient servant, H. IT. ONDERDONK. FEOM THE ET.REV. ALONZO POTTER, D. D., LL. D. BISHOP OF THE DIOCESE OP PENNSYLVANIA. PHILADELPHIA, AugUSt 5, 1854. My dear Sir: On reaching home a day or two since, I found your letter of the 29th inst., requesting me to supply you with a few personal recollections of Bishop White. I comply with pleasure with the request, though my knowledge of this admirable man was much less full and intimate than must ha.ve been that of many persons now living. When about eighteen years old, I came to Philadelphia, [in 1818,] having just graduated at College, and, during some eight or nine months, I saw a good deal of Bishop White. My impressions of him were the more vivid, as I was at this time baptized and confirmed by him, and received my first Communion at his hands. He was then, I think, somewhat past seventy, in full health, perfectly erect, and without any of the attenuation of age. His face was singularly benignant and beautiful, though it had, perhaps, less of the surpassing grace and gentleness which characterized his later" years, and which have been so exqui- sitely preserved by the artist, Inman. I saw him often in the pulpit and chan- cel in a bookstore which he frequented almost daily, and occasionally in private houses. Becoming also, at this time, a candidate for the ministry, I enjoyed his supervision and counsel in my theological studies, although my immediate preceptor was the Rev. Samuel H. Turner, now Dr. Turner of the General Theo- logical Seminary in New York. After a few months, I left Philadelphia, and, 286 EPISCOPALIAN. from that time to the close of his life. I met him only occasionally, at meetings of the Board of Missions, and at the sessions of the General Convention. I mention these facts to show how far my opportunities of observing him reached. One trait in his character struck me immediately — it was the absence of self- consciousness. Beyond any one then living, he was the object, throughout Phil- adelphia, among people of every religious denomination, of respect and affection. This was very apparent when he appeared in the streets. But he was not a man who loved greetings in the market places, and to be called of men Rabbi, Rabbi. He, therefore, betrayed no sense of his own consequence. He invited no saluta- tions, although he was never wanting in a proper recognition of them. He moved along very quietly, and generally at a slow pace, and was, I do not doubt, entirely ignorant of a thousand little demonstrations of regard and veneration, which a man of morbid self-esteem would have been prompt to discover and rejoice in. In his public ministrations, and in private intercourse, it was the same. He never claimed anything for himself. His opinions, though delivered with the air of a man who held them clearly and decidedly, were, to a singular extent, devoid of any thing peremptory or exacting. No man was more tolerant of differences of opinion, and some of his most cherished and unbroken friend- ships were with men (like Bishop Hobart) from whom he differed materially up to the close of his life. His public ministrations were not, at this time, very attractive to a youth. His delivery was monotonous, though few voices had greater sweetness or appa- rent flexibility. His style was deficient in point and force, and the models on which he had unconsciously formed himself, were not favourable to a bold and commanding eloquence. No one, however, not even an immature young man, like myself, could listen to him with attention, without knowing that he was receiving the admonitions and instructions of a wise and good man. He was a well-read theologian, of the school of Burnet and Tillotson, with more of patristic learning than was at all common in those days, either in England or in this country. There were few questions, either among those which had divided his own Church, or those which had separated her from the Church of Rome on the one side, and from other Protestant Bodies on the other, which he did not seem to have considered carefully | and the results of his reading and reflection dropped richly from him in his sermons, but in a manner so unobtrusive, and one might almost say, so shy, that it often escaped notice. In private, he was exceedingly instructive and entertaining. He abounded in anecdote, which he told with evident self-enjoyment. His fund of information seemed inexhaustible. He had read largely in the solid English writers of the last two centuries, — historians, statesmen, and philosophers. His memory seemed to give him perfect command of whatever he had read. He was, to an uncommon degree, conscientious in his statements, as well as in giving his opin- ions. Shortly before leaving Philadelphia, I called to talce my leave of him, and, while thanking him for his kindness, I ventured to ask his opinion on a point which has much divided theologians, and about which I imagined he might not be over anxious to commit himself. His answer was brief, but clear, and left me no doubt that he held substantially the opinions that were imputed to him. On the following evening, I attended service at a church where he was present, and was sent for to come to him, as the congregation retired. He then stated that, in reflecting on the conversation of the previous day, he had some doubt whether he had made himself perfectly understood. He therefore referred me to a section in one of the Books of Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, as expressing with greater fulness and precision his own opinions. I should do him and my own recollections great injustice, if I conveyed the impression that he held his opinions haltingly, or was timid in the expression of them. He abhorred contention, and often therefore restrained himself, when he "WILLIAM VHITE. 287 thought speaking or writing was more likely to gender strife than to advance truth. He had, moreover, a wide mind, and could see the strong points of an adversary, so that he was not in haste to charge all who differed from him with wanting honesty or intelligence. He was also pre-eminently gentle and kind, and from the earliest years of his childhood, he had felt upon his own heart a sense of the Divine Presence. Such a temper and experience necessarily quali- fled his views of practical and theoretical religion. He could not well, under any circumstances, have been a passionate follower of Augustine in Theology, or of Wesley or Whitefleld in their views of experimental piety. The opinions, how- ever, which he did hold, he never hesitated to avow, whenever he thought the interests of men required it. One of his last acts was to deUver a Charge enti- tled 7%e Past and the Future, which was as creditable to his moral courage as it was to his foresight. In respect to courage, few men were ever more favoured. The horrors of pesti- lence, whether in the shape of Yellow Fever or Asiatic Cholera, had no effect on him, when duty called him to encounter them. He sent his family to a distance, and gave night and day to the offices of Religion, by the bed-side of the sick, and over the graves of the dead. Few spectacles have had more of the moral sublime than was presented by this aged Bishop, verging on fourscore and five years, and yet daily taking his rounds among the victims of Cholera, in 1832, when many a younger clergyman felt authorized to withdraw altogether from the perilous contact. He never courted danger — he never shrank from it when it came hand in hand with duty. At the opening of the Revolution, he was about to retire to Mary- land, but hearing, on the road, that he had been chosen Chaplain to the Conti- nental Congress, he instantly turned his horse's head towards Philadelphia, without stopping to take leave of his family. In his intercourse with men, even those whom he most respected, he was equally dauntless. The following is an incident in point: — He was proverbially punctual. On two successive occasions, a Board to which he belonged failed to make a quorum for the transaction of business, because of the absence of one or two distinguished gentlemen, who he knew, might have been present, without inconvenience. He expressed his indig- nation that he and his associates should be thus trifled with, and avowed his determination to move, at the first opportunity, a standing rule that Trustees thus absent, without sufficient cause, should be understood to have vacated their seats. At the next meeting, both these gentlemen being present, and both his personal friends, he made the motion, and was with difficulty dissuaded from pressing it to a vote. During the winter of 1818, which I passed in Philadelphia, two Bishops were consecrated at Christ Church by Bishop White — Chase of Ohio, and Bowen of South Carolina. These solemnities brought together several of his Episcopal brethren, such as Bishop Hobart of New York, Kemp of Maryland, Croes of New Jersey. It was delightful to see the habitual deference and the earnest affection with which they all regarded him, — and to a young man, a stranger to the world, it was particularly striking to contrast the characters of these men, and to observe, when they came together, how the contrasts became blended and harmonized through the presence and benignant influence of the Legislator and Sage of the Church. When seeing Bishop White with Bishop Hobart, I have often thought of Melancthon and Luther, the one made for counsel, the other for action, — the one meek, erudite, far-seeing, philosophical, — the other impulsive, bold, prompt, with a sway over men rarely surpassed. His career was long, and as felicitous as long. No man had more unbroken health. The late Dr. Chapman once told me that Bishop White was the only man he had ever seen who could eat all kinds of food, at all times, and in any quantity, and yet do it with impunity. Born in Philadelphia, a resident of it 288 EPISCOPALIAN. for eighty-eight years, decided in all his opinions, religions and political, he had yet, when he came to die, no enemy, and all good men claimed to be his friends. The streets through which his remains passed, were like one hall of mourning, and his picture now stands side by side with those of Washington and La Fay- ette in the Hall of Independence. The late Charles Chauncy,'whom you knew, and whose praise is on the tongue of every Philadelphian, assured me that, though a decided Presbyterian, he and Bishop White had lived next door neigh- bours for a quarter of a century, with no feelings but those of the frankest and warmest cordiality. They usually came out of their doors at the same time on Sunday morning, and walked together a square or two, when they separated to go to their respective places of worship. The only subject on which he ever remembered that they differed materially, was one respecting the union of dif- ferent religious Bodies for the publication of Tracts and the establishment of Sunday-Schools, and he had seen reason, since the Bishop's death, to conclude that his was the better opinion of the two. He was, by education and temperament, much averse to excitement, and yet few men saw earlier and with more complacency that an era of greater religious earnestness and activity was impending, or did more to prepare his own Commu- nion for it. He was, from the first, a decided friend of every effort to enlist that Communion in the work of Missions at home and abroad, and some of the strongest papers which he drew, during the last few years of his life, were instructions to the earliest representatives of the Episcopal Church of the United States in foreign lands. He was also devoted, from the first, to efforts for the amelioration of Prison-Discipline, the education of the deaf and dumb, the instruction of the blind, the reformation of abandoned women, and the care of orphans and destitute aged persons. As the early "guide, philosopher, and friend" of our Episcopal Church, when it emerged, a mere wreck, from the War of Independence, we see, every year, more occasion to admire his wisdom, activ- ity, and patience. As a theological writer, he has made contributions to litera- ture more valuable than is generally known, and among his unpublished works are some abler and more elaborate than any of his yet printed — particularly a voluminous Reply to Barclay's Apology. As the first Bishop of this Diocese, he gave a direction to the opinions and policy of his people, wherever he went, for which his successors will have reason to bless his memory for many generations. He was a man without guile. He was just and gentle, yet inflexible. He lived for duty, and died in the serene hope and faith of the Gospel of Christ. Truly yours, ALONZO POTTER. FROM THE HON. JOSEPH R. INGERSOLL, MINISTER FROM THE UNITED STATES TO THE COURT OF ST. JAMES. Philadelphia, February 2, 1857. Rev. and dear Sir: Few names have been more widely known in our country than that of Bishop White: none perhaps more favourably. The esteem in which he was universally held through a long and consistently virtuous life, was a tribute willingly paid to merit which all could appreciate. This tribute was as unsought by the receiver as it was cheerfully conceded by general and cordial consent. The "Memoir," by the Rev. Dr. Wilson, relates that Dr. Hobart, (who was consecrated in 1811,) in a review of the Episcopal Charge delivered by Bishop White in 1807, had spoken highly of his theological learning and abili- ties. A letter addressed to Dr. Hobart in reply, stated that he felt a painful sensation on reading of his " extensive and deep theological erudition:" alleging that, if he thought himself, as he did not, possessed of talents for it, circum- "WILLIAM WHITE. 289 stances had not permitted his being long enough in his study for the acquisition. Both the compliment and the disclaimer may be explained by the character which nature had given to his mind. This character remained unchanged by length of time and variety of incidents, by intercourse with the world or the reflections of retirement. A purity and singleness of purpose went with him in whatever he undertook, and in all that he accomplished. His aim always appeared to be to accomplish it faithfully; and he reached the desired end with- out needless display, and without apparent vehemence or brilliancy of effort, lie knew how to adapt to the main result, whatever information, experience and patient research had enabled him to acquire; aud he brought to the occasion all the force that was necessary, under the guidance of an unfeigned love of truth. Ilis office, as a Christian Minister, was a pledge for continued exertions in a holy cause; and when he became a Bishop, his duties were only enlarged and multi- plied, without being altered in their great and solemn purpose. lie was, indeed, constantly imparting instruction. His sermons, like his conduct, served, as the}' were meant to do, not for his own display, but for the benefit of others. In their preparation and revisal, they received the advantage of unceasing reflection and study, and by purifying the hearts and enlightening the understandings of those who listened to them, lie was himself a learner. His mind was stored with wisdom gathered for the benefit of mankind, and his heart was kept pure bj' the lessons of purity which ho taught. The accumulation of his knowledge was extensive, although, in his own view, it was not collected exactly in what he would have called his study. He was practically and essentially a student, and he became wiser by his faithful endeavours to make others wise. These discourses from the pulpit derived their merit chiefly from their own innate and intrinsic wisdom and piety. No attempt was made to lend them force or impressiveness by the charms of oratory. He did not believe that ges- ticulation was natural to him, and no gestures were used. The sermon, in the shape of a small book, was held in the hand of the reader, and there was remarkable uniformity in its length, which appeared to be accurately measured; by the number of pages devoted to the manuscript. All that could be regardeds as mere manner was avoided, or at least unused. In whatever sense the lessoa of the Grecian Orator may be understood, it would be diificult to give the name of action to anything that was exhibited. Yet this style, so far from ornamen- tal, and so peculiarly marked by its simplicity, — this delivery, so foreign from the arts of elocution, as they are generally practised, did not deprive the sermons of their attractiveness. They were probably far more attractive than they would have been, if attempts to adorn them with ill adapted flgures of speech, or to bestow upon them animation by more spirited delivery, had been indulged or introduced. The late Judge Washington said that he had been in the habit, during his official visits to Philadelphia, of following Bishop White from- church to church, as he preached consecutively in the several united churches of which he was the Rector. His discourses in the pulpit, and on other occasions of official' duty, were no less sound and holy than his life was pure. Precept and example were, in his preaching and living, beautiful handmaids of each other. In the tone and tendency of each there was a striking resemblance. A dignified sim- plicity not unequally characterized both. All of his movements, whether self- n-uiding, or calculated for external influence, were towards virtue. He felt little cause for self-reproof, and it scarcely occurred to him, in the gentleness of his spirit, to suspect the existence of grievous causes for rebuke in those about him. His sermons partook of instruction and guidance, rather than of censure or remon- strance. His daily habits were those of peace and good-will. With uniform cheerfulness of disposition in his own bosom, he found himself, for the most part, in the midst of corresponding cheerfulness. No one had more reason to rejoice in the influence and contagion of an amiable temper, ■vrhich,, while it Vol. V. 37 290 EPISCOPALIAN. excites no counteracting or unhappy feeling in familiar intercourse, is compara- tively free from the danger of encountering it. If ever man made his own moral atmosphere, it was Bishop White. There was no austerity about him. He well knew not only that virtues and vices are antipodes of each other, but that vir- tues themselves, when driven beyond their nature, lose their value and even their name. Superstition, and intolerance, and persecution are not piety, any more than avarice is frugality, or extravagance liberality. He used the world without abusing it. Many persons to whom written lessons might have been unknown, however salutary in their nature, saw and profited by the remarkable illustration. His own home was the abode of a generous and well directed hos- pitality, and he partook without hesitation of hospitality abroad. lie was met in frequent, although not indiscriminate, social intercourse. He shared in it from principle, as well as from good feeling, believing that excess might be made less probable by the occasional or habitual presence and association of those who scrupulously avoided it. He never forgot the decorum and amiable and unaf- fected dignity which became his public character. It was natural that qualities such as have been alluded to, should have been sought for on public occasions corresponding with them, whether merely reli- gious, or moral, literary or benevolent. He was at the head of different associa- tions, of which .such were the objects. These associations were not necessarily composed of individuals attached to his own Church, or exclusively devoted to religious purposes. His aid and concurrence were cheerfulljf given to' them, when they Avere calculated to promote public good or general utility. He pre- sided over them, as he appeared to govern himself and his own immediate familj', without the necessity of a frown. Opportunity was thus constantly presented for instilling lessons of practical wisdom, and although they never appeared to be sought, they seldom appeared to be avoided. He was punctual and exact in the discharge of the less as well as the greater duties of life. A habit of daily observation among his fellow men provided new food for reflection. Thus his studied discourses were supplied, when necessary, with variety, and his social intercourse with interest. He formed and established in his mind a code of principles, which, like, a guiding star, he could always keep in view to govern himself and enlighten others. With principles so well established as a rule of conduct, he had little difficulty in forming and strengthening his judgment upon points of duty, and the courtesies of society; when such were suggested by his own mind, or an appeal was made to him in behalf of his friends and associates. With a temper so well regulated, and a perception free from all unreasonable prejudice and bias of prepossession, his opinions could scarcely fail to be sound, or his advice to be acceptable. It might well be supposed that a person so gifted and so happily situated for the exercise of his uncarnmon gifts, without seeking distinction himself, yet always distinguished; publicly as well as privately well known; constantly in view, and in that view blameless; with no salient points of repulsion and many ■of attraction and sympathy; should have been looked up to with something almost more than reverence. A profound respect might well have been inspired by a long course of good deeds, sufficiently known in the performance and the consequences of them. A habit prevails often among judicious persons of trusting, as the world at large i.s said to do, to the judgment of others. But without an uncommon combination of talents and virtues, they could not have made the possessor of them the proverb which he became in an age which was not without the ordinary supply of envy, the too common attribute of human nature. The tendencies and habits of Bishop White did not appear to undergo any material change with his advancing years. He was ready, and willing, and •able to put forth his mental strength as long as it should last, and it did WILLIAM WHITE. 291 happily last until the evening of a greatly prolonged life. His unexhausted fertility of mind and performance of duty were remarkable. It is said that the fact could scarcely be believed by his brother Churchmen in Eng- land, that the Bishop of the Diocese of Pennsylvania preached every Sun- day without fail; and when it was added that he had numbered at the time some eighty years, the feeling of incredulity became almost absolute. With all his gentle properties, hs was eminently firm, when firmness was required, in supporting what he deemed right or opposing wrong. With all his habits of caution and forbearance, promptness in thought and action were not wanting when promptness became the occasion or himself. The occasion, however, sel- dom found his mind unprepared, and his promptness was probably less the effect of any sudden impulse or mere suggestion of the moment, than of a pre- viously matured and satisfactory course of comprehensive thought, which fitted him for emergencies, and accounted for his meeting and overcoming them with- out extraordinary effort. The same willingness to use his undiminished faculties of mind which marked his later years, and always redeemed itself from the possible imputation of fee- bleness or error, was not loss obvious to his friends in little peculiarities of personal inclination, and was not quite so fortunate in its exercise. Time, in its gradual but certain influences, is not always to be resisted by the most wise. Its effects upon the bodily actions even of the vigorous and robust, are not to be concealed. In the inevitable course of nature, and under the wise decrees of Providence, it impairs the strength of the most powerful, and paralyzes the activity of the most elastic, limbs. It makes manifest to men their own mortal- ity, and reminds them that they have another and a better state of existence to hope for, in which alone vigour can be renewed. This certain decree had visited this venerable man. His step became loss firm; his voice less distinct and clear. Although his eye was not, for useful purposes, dimmed, yet many years had overtaken and gone by him, since he had reached and triumphed over the allot- ted terra of ordinary human existence. The foot which sustained his tall form, no longer moved with a buoyant and elastic tread. It was too plain that, like a marble statue, however well proportioned, to which the skilful artist gives additional support, something was needed besides due proportion and native strength to preserve continued uprightness and steadiness to the body. Nothing was more natural than an offer from a friend of a relieving and supporting arm. Whether the offer was regarded as implying too plainly a want of confidence in his own stability, which he was not willing to admit, or the acceptance of it might be thought by him to involve some trouble to another, it was generally declined, and the unsteady gait and amiable disposition were no farther relieved or disturbed. Among the " works in manuscript," enumerated by the Bishop in a memo- randum at the end of Dr. Wilson's " IMemoir," is a letter addressed to myself, " With the return of Lord Brougham's Discourse on Natural Theology." The circumstance alluded to took place, according to this memorandum, in October, 1835, and it may be i-egarded as characteristic. It was within the last year of the Bishop's valuable life. Something had passed one morning at his house on the subject of Lord Brougham's work, and I offered to send it to him. This was done at once, and the return of it with the letter of remarks or commentary upon it, was made, I think, at so early a moment as the afternoon or evening of the next day. It may be inferred from the manner in which he notices the fact itself, that he retained a copy. The perusal of the book must have been a careful one. The commentary, as I recollect it, bore marks of care. It would have been a task of no common difficulty for any one, at the best period of a vigorous life, to perform it, even without other occupations, in the few hours within which it was accomplished. The manuscript was given by me, several 292 EPISCOPALIAN. years after the Bishop's death, to a person who wished to receive it as an auto- graph, and promised, on receiving it, together with others, from me, that his collection, which was a good one, should be kept together after his death. He died abroad, and the manuscript was probably lost sight of. The aversion of the good Bishop to every thing like selfishness, in appearance as well as reality, was apparent in his habitual reluctance to speak of himself in the first person, even in his sermons. He would refer to "Your Preacher," or even hazard the clearness of his phrase, by making it altogether impersonal, and resort to some circumlocution to reach his object. A position is often intro- duced into his writings by adopting such language as " there is," " believed," or " known," or equivalent words, instead of his own belief or knowledge. It is satisfactory to feel that the noble countenance and fine figure of Bishop White are sufficiently safe in the recollection of his cotemporaries, and in the knowledge of the generation which has followed him. By an arrangement among a number of persons, an excellent picture was painted by Inman, repre- senting him as seated in the chancel, in the act of pronouncing a discourse previously to one of his Episcopal Offices. The portrait was sent to England for the purpose of procuring the best possible engraving. This was executed by one of the most distinguished artists, in his happiest manner. The plan has been carried completely into effect, by multiplying copies of this engraving. The form and features, once so cherished, are kept in view by man}-- who are able to blend their belief in pious, moral and intellectual worth of a past day, with features and expression of almost speaking benevolence and intelligence; and the memorial is held with pride and gratitude. When Pettrick, the Sculptor, resided in Philadelphia, he was anxious to pre- pare a bust of Bishop White, without giving him any trouble. He, accordingly, placed himself in front of the pulpit, that the lineaments and countenance of the Bishop might be seen to the best advantage, and while the venerable object of study was delivering his sermon, he was unconsciously standing for his like- ness. The attentive artist, meanwhile, was absorbed in his own professional contemplations, quite unmindful probably of the discourse; and having faithfully fixed his mind on the features presented to his eye, and impressed them firmly in his recollection, he retired to the seclusion of his studio, and prepared his mofJel in the absence of the original. While endeavouring to comply, however imperfectly, with your request that I should prepare a letter to accompany your Biography of Bishop White, I fear that I have erred in making it much longer than you desired. If I have tres- passed on your patience, the attachment which I felt, in common with all who knew that venerable Prelate when he lived, and a natural wish not to treat lightly the occasion to do honour to his memory, must plead my apology. Believe me to be. With sincere respect, Your faithful servant, J. R. INGERSOLL. WILLIAM PERCY. 293 WILLIAM PERCY, D. D* 1772—1819. William Pekcy was born in Bedworth, Warwickshire, England, Sep- tember 15, 1744. Ho was educated at Edmund Hall, Oxford, where he took the degree of Bachelor of Arts. He was admitted to Holy Orders about the year 1767. For some time he was Assistant Curate to the Rev. Mr. Stillingfleet, Perpetual Curate of West Bromwich, Staffordshire, whence he received his title for Orders. While in this cure, he was offered by the Earl of Dartmouth a small living between Daventry and Towccster ; and, at the same time, it was intimated to him that he might possibly be invited to the Look Hospital. Another living was offered him by Baron Smythe, at Loxley, near Stratford upon Avon ; and subsequently he was appointed Assistant Chaplain to the Eev. Martin Madan, at the Lock Hospital. This latter place he accepted. In 1772, the Countess of Huntingdon appointed him one of her Chaplains ; and he officiated in Northampton, and at the Tabernacle and Tottenham Court Chapel. It is well known that Whitefield, in an early part of his itinerancy in this country, founded an Orphan House, and subsequently a College, at Bethesda, ten miles from Savannah. At his death, he bequeathed the house, College-lands, negroes, &c., to Lady Huntingdon, whom he styles, in his Will, " That elect lady, that mother in Israel, that mirror of true and undefiled religion." In 1772, she appointed Mr. Percy President of Bethesda College, and sent him to America, with instructions to preach wherever he could collect an audience. During his residence in Georgia, he often preached in the open field, or in the shade of some tree. Mr. Percy went to Charlestown, S. C, in 1773 ; and not being invited to preach in the Episcopal Churches, on account of his somewhat equivocal character as an Episcopal clergyman, he preached for his Baptist and Inde- pendent brethren. When the War of the Revolution broke out, he took a decisive stand on the popular side, and sometimes preached to the troops ; and he was the first minister in Charlestown, who delivered an Address on the Anniversary of our Independence. From May, 1777 until the fall of Charlestown, in 1780, he frequently officiated at St. Michael's Church ; but at that time he was ordered by Colonel Balfour to desist from all cleri- cal duty, on pain of confinement. In 1781, he returned to England, and, for a while, officiated statedly at Northampton Chapel, and occasionally at the Tabernacle and Tottenham Court Chapel. By the aid of some benevo- lent friends, he built a chapel at Woolwich, where he settled in 1782, but frequently visited Lady Huntingdon's chapels at London, Bath, Bristol, and elsewhere. His chapel not being licensed, the Rev. Mr. Thomas, Rector of the parish, summoned him before an Ecclesiastical Court, and he was fined. He then abandoned the chapel, and never afterwards preached in any unlicensed place of worship. As lady Huntingdon advanced in years, her attachment to the Established Church grew weaker, until she finally determined to secede from it alto- • Daloho'fi Hist. Epis. Ch. S. C— MS. from Kcv. William Jenl«, D. D. 294 EPISCOPALIAN. gether, and to become, in some sense, the founder of a new sect. Mr. Percy was requested to engage in the enterprise, but he regarded the pro- ject as irregular and unwise, and refused his co-operation. This produced a coolness towards him on the part of the Countess, and they were never afterwards brought into more friendly relations. After he left Woolwich, he was appointed, in 1793, Minister of West- minster Chapel, known by the name of Dr. Peckwell's. In 1798, he was appointed to Queen's Square Chapel, where he continued till 1804, when he returned to Charleston. In January, 1805, he was appointed a temporary assistant, or third min- ister, in St. Philip's and St. Michael's Churches, Charleston, and continued in St. Michael's until July, 1809, and in St. Philip's, until January, 1810. In 1807, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the College of South Carolina. On Dr. Jenkins' * resignation of the Kectorship of St. Philip's, Dr. Percy's friends were desirous that he should be appointed Dr. J.'s succes- sor ; but as another person (the Rev. Mr. Simonst) was chosen, they col- lected a congregation in the Calvinistic Church of French Protestants, then vacant, and formed a third Episcopal Church. Dr. Percy was elected Eector, and the church was represented in Convention, in February, 1810. Soon after this, another new church was established, partly, if not chiefly, through Dr. Percy's influence, which was called " St. Paul's Church, Ead- cliffeborough." In April, 1816, he was elected Eector of this church, and he continued his connection with it till the spring of 1819, when he returned to England. He had but just arrived in London, when his earthly career was closed. He died on the 13th of July, 1819, after an illness of four days, in the seven- ty-fifth year of his age. His illness was occasioned by exposure at midnight, half dressed, while seeking shelter from a fire which broke out in the adjoin- ing house. He was buried under the new Church of Mary-le-bone, the parish in which he died. A Funeral Discourse was delivered by the Eev. Dr. Gadsden, at St. Philip's Church, Charleston, October, 8, 1819, at the request of the Bible Society, of which Dr. Percy had been a Vice Presi- dent, from its first establishment. Dr. Percy published, while in Charleston, An Apology for the Episcopal Church, in a series of Letters, on the Nature, Ground, and Foundation of • EDWATii) .Tbnkins became Rector of St. Bartholomew's Parish, S. C, November, 1, 1772, and resigned in 1776 . While Charlestown was in possession of the British, during the Revolntion, he officiated at St. Michael's, but left it at the eyaouation. In 1796, he became Assistant Minister of St. Michael's ; and in 1802, succeeded to the Rectorship. In 1804, he was appointed Rector of St. Philip's Church, and in February of the same year, was elected by the Conven- tion, Bishop of the Diocese, but he declined the latter appointment on account of advanced age. In the spring of 1807, he went to England, having appointed the Rev. James D. Simons to officiate during his absence ; but he resigned the Rectorship in 1809. He was living in Eng- land as late as 1819. t James Dk.wae Simons was born in Charleston, April 29, 1785. He entered Yale College in the spring of 1800, but returned to Charleston in the autumn of the following year, on account of having become the subject of a malady which interrupted his studies, and recurred, at intervals, during the rest of his life. He, however, subsequently pursued a course of theo- logical study, and prepared himself for the ministry. He was ordained Deacon, in New Yorlf, by Bishop Moore, November Ifl, 1806, and Priest, by the same Prelate, May 23, 1809. He succeeded Dr. Jenkins as Rector of St. Philip's, August 27, 1809. He died of bilious fevor. May 27, 1814, aged twenty-nine years. He was an uncommonly amiable and benevolent man, and was greatly admired as a preacher. ■WILLIAM PERCY. 295 Episcopacy ; also The Clergyman's and People's Eemembrancer, in two parts — 1. An Essay on the Ministerial Character : 2. A Delineation of the true Christian Character. Dr. Dalcho, in his Historical Account of the Episcopal Church in South Carolina, writes thus of Dr. Percy : — " Dr. Percy, in his religious opinions, was a Calvinist. He believed the Church to be Calvinistic in its Articles, but its Clergy to be Ai-minians in doctrine. He professed his entire approbation of the Thirty -Nine Articles which he had subscribed, and ad- mired the I'.vangelical Liturgy of the Church. In the latter part of his life, he but sel- dom indulged himself in making even a trifling abridgment of its compendiousform, but usually delivered it as prescribed by the Church. Dr. P. deserves great credit for this confurmity, considering the latitude he allowed himself in the early part of his minis- try; but the Clergy of the Diocese, rigidly and conscientiously adhering to the Canons and Rubric-i, set him an example which it was difficult not to follow. "The following anecdote will show that, notwithstanding his erratic ministrations when he first cume to America, he held the order of the Church in reverence. When officiating in the White-Meeting, as the Independent Church was then called, he assisted the Rev. Mr. Tennent, its minister, in the administration of the Lord's Sup- per, according to the forms of that church. But when Dr. P., in the Episcopal Church in Savannah, was about to administer that holy ordinance, he refused Mr. Tennent's assistance, who happened to be present, because he was not Episcopally ordained, and could not officiate in an Episcopal Church. " Dr. P. was a great admirer of Mr. Romaine and Mr. Madan, and rather made them his model than Mr. Whitefield, whom he had heard but once, and then was dis- appointed." FROM THE REV. WILLIAM JENKS, D. D. Boston, June 8, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir: My information in regard to the Rev. William Perc}', D. D., is, I fear, too slight to be of much service to you. I recur to my journal, and find that, on two Lord's days,- — the 11th and 18th of August, 1805, while the Episcopal Church at Cambridge was under my care as lay reader, this gen- tleman preached for me. He had bqen made known to me by the Rev. Dr. Morse of Charlestown, as an Episcopal clergyman of highly evangelical views; and such indeed I found him. In addition to his preaching, he administered the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. I was at that time engaged in the instruction of youth, but, in the winter after, settled in Bath, Me. I conversed with Dr. Percy on theological studies, and he recommended to my perusal Boston's Fourfold State, Ambrose Searle's Chris- tian Remembrancer, Simpson's Scriptural and Chronological Account of the Trinity, and the use of Jenks' Devotions. He pressed me exceedingly to receive Orders in the Episcopal Church, and endeavoured to persuade me that the dis- pensations of Providence in bringing me to Cambridge, and giving me in so great a degree the affections of the congregation, clearly indicated this to be my duty. I could only reply that I felt myself bound to follow the voice of Providence. He urged on me the necessity of habitual pra3'^er; of postponing no longer an entrance on the ministry, which he thought I had already deferred too long, and he omitted no consideration to induce me to bo ordained. My intercourse with him left on ray mind the impression that he was a godly man, a devoted Episcopalian, and well adapted to be a successful preacher of the Gospel. He went soon afterwards to the South, and from that time I never heard of his residence, labours, or life. His appearance was dignified and impressive, and would have graced any member of the House of Northumberland. In his person he was large, and peculiarly handsome for a man of fifty years or so; scrupulously neat in dress; genteel and polite in demeanour, and with a voice musical and attractive. I may add also that I found him methodically exact and precise in his hours of retire- ment for prayer, reading, and meditation. 29g EPISCOPALIAN. This, my dear Sir, is all that T am now able to recall in respect to Dr. Percy, and if it shall prove of the least use to you, I shall truly rejoice. Yours with affectionate respect, and the best wishes, WILLIAM JENKS. RT. REV. SAMUEL PARKER, D. D * 1774—1804. Samuel Parker was the third son of the Hon. William Parker, and was born in Portsmouth, N. H., in August, 1744. His father was an emi- nent lawyer, held various offices under the Government, and was a Judge of the Superior Court at the commencement of the Revolution. He (the father) was emphatically a self-made man, having been educated in a tan yard. Samuel Parker received his education at Harvard College, where he was graduated in 1764. Immediately after leaving College, he was employed as a teacher in a Grammar School in Roxbury ; and, subsequently, while pursuing his theological studies, was occupied in the same way successively at Newburyport and Portsmouth. Notwithstanding he had been educated in connection with the Congregational Church, he early evinced a predilec- tion for the Church of England ; and that predilection, as he advanced in years, grew into a decided and strong attachment. After the death of the Rev. William Hooper, Rector of Trinity Church in Boston, Dr. Walter, who was settled there as an Assistant Minister, was appointed to the Rec- torship, and Mr. Parker, then residing at Portsmouth, was, in October, 1773, elected to the place from which Dr. Walter had been advanced. He immediately repaired to England for ordination, and, on the 24th of Feb- ruary, 1774, Dr. Richard Terrick, then Lord Bishop of London, admitted him to Deacon's Orders, and three days after ordained him Priest. After passing a few months in England, he returned to Boston, and, on the 2d of November, subscribed the " votes and rules for the observation of the Assistant Minister of Trinity Church." Scarcely had he entered on the duties of his office, before the War of the Revolution commenced, in consequence of which he was subjected to many severe trials. The other Episcopal clergymen of the town retired to the Province of Nova Scotia ; but Mr. Parker remained at his post, in the regular discharge of his ministerial duties. It was, however, no easy matter to meet the claims of his Country on the one hand, and the claims of his Church on the other ; and, at length, he found himself in circum- stances of imminent peril. On the 18th of July, a fortnight after the Declaration of Independence, ho called a meeting of his Vestry and War- dens, and informed them that he could not with safety continue to perforin the Church Service, particularly the part of it in which prayers were offered for the King ; that he had been publicly interrupted in reading it on the preceding Lord's day, and was apprehensive of serious consequences, if he * Gosp. Adv. vi. — Exeter News Letter, 1843. — Gardiner's Fun. Serm. SAMUEL PARKER. 297 should attempt it again. The Vestry and Proprietors passed a vote, requesting that he would continue to officiate in the church, but that he would omit the part of the Liturgy that had reference to the King and the Royal Family. In 1777, the parish, in testimony of their high appreciation of Mr. Parker's self-denying labours among them, and of the uncommon prudence and fortitude which he had evinced under peculiarly trying circumstances, voted him seventy-five pounds as a gratuity, and invested him with " the powers, privileges, and immunities of Incumbent Minister for one year, provided the Rev. Mr. Walter should not, before that time, return to his charge." They also gave him the salary of the Rector, in addition to that of the Assistant Minister. This arrangement continued until June, 1779, when the parish voted, by a large majority, that they had no Incumbent Minister ; and, immediately after, he was unanimously elected Rector of the Church. After taking a little time to consider the case, which he regarded as involved in some difficulty, on account of the peculiar relation which Mr. Walter sustained to the Church, he gave an affirmative answer, and was duly inducted to the Rectorship. For several years after the close of the Revolutionary War, he devoted himself with great assiduity to the revival and improvement of the scat- tered churches belonging to his communion, in various parts of the State. He had also much to do as the Agent of the Society in England for Propa- gating the Gospel in Foreign Parts. In 1789, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the University of Pennsylvania. In 1792, he was partially relieved of his parochial labours by the elec- tion of the Rev. (afterwards Dr.) J. S. J. G-ardiner to the office of Assist- ant Minister, who also succeeded him in the Rectorship of Trinity Church. Upon the decease of Bishop Bass, in 1803, he was unanimously elected Bishop of the Eastern Diocese. He reluctantly accepted the appointment, after some montbs of deliberation, and was consecrated in New York, at the General Convention, September 16, 1804. The Sermon on the occa- sion was preached by the venerable Bishop White, of Pennsylvania, and was published. But the peculiar duties of his new office he was never permitted to dis- charge. He returned to his family and parish, immediately after he had received Consecration, and was at once prostrated by the disorder (gout) which terminated his life. He died on the 6th of December, 1804, aged fifty-nine. A Sermon on the occasion of his death was preached by his Assistant, the Rev. J. S. J. Gardiner, from Hebrews xiii. 8, and was published. Dr. Parker's publications are the Annual Election Sermon, preached before the Legislature of Massachusetts, in 1793, and a Sermon delivered for the benefit of the Boston Female Asylum, in 1803. He was married, in November, 1776, to Anne, daughter of John Cutler, of Boston. They had twelve children, — six sons and six daughters. Four of his sons have been graduated at Harvard College ; one of whom became a lawyer, one a clergyman, one a physician, and one a teacher. The following recollections of Bishop Parker have been furnished me by one of his former parishioners : — Vol. V. 38 298 EPISCOPALIAN. " In deportment, Bishop Parker was dignified. Of a commanding and above the usual stature, his person was fully developed, neither bordering on corpulence or approaching slenderness. With a robust frame, and a natural ease of move- ment, he bore the impress of a polished gentleman. In his attire he was scrupu- lously exact, sustaining the dignity of his clerical ofBce by neatness, without excess of ornament. Urbane and polite in his intercourse with his parishioners, and others with whom his known character for philanthropy and benevolence brought him in contact, he was respected by those of all denominations of Chris- tians who knew him. Although his features wore a composure which indicated self-command, and a temperament chastened by early discipline, his smile was that of sincerity and benignity. Practised in the amenities of social intercourse, he never stooped to any thing even bordering on vulgar familiarity. Without austerity, his manners were affable and easy; and those who knew him well, were sure to regard him with confidence and respect. Not unconscious of the influence he exerted from his position in the surrounding community, and especially in the Societies, literary and charitable, of which he was a member, his pretensions were neither arrogant or assuming. He well knew the respect due to others, and cheerfully awarded it to them. Much to the regret of his connections and relatives, he uniformly, but cour- teously, declined their importunate requests that he would sit for his portrait, and therefore no imag^ of his outer man exists but in the memory of the few of his surviving friends. In the administration of the Offices of the Church, his reading and delivery were eminently solemn and impressive. His voice was clear, and his accent remarkably significant. So marked was the accuracy and propriety of his delivery in the Burial Service of the Church, especially in the reading of the fifteenth chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians, that it was not uncommon for persons, not of the Episcopal Church, to attend funerals at which he was to officiate, merely for the sake of listening to his very impressive manner of reading that Service." The Kev. Charles Lowell, D. D., in reply to a request which I made for his recollections of Bishop Parker, says, — " Bishop Parker died, two years, I think, before I was ordained, — and this was long ago, but an old man remembers old things better than new ones. The tablet of memory is filled with the inscriptions of former years, and there is little space left to insert any thing new. I well remember the Bishop as a tall, well-proportioned man, with a broad, cheerful and rubicund face, and flowing hair; of fine powers of conversation, and easy and affable in his manners. He was given to hospitality and went about doing good." BENJAMIN MOORE. 299 RT. REV. BENJAMIN MOORE, D. D * 1774—1816. Benjamin Moore, the son of Samuel and Sarah (Fish) Moore, was bom at Newtown, Long Island, October 5, 1748. He commenced his studies at a school in Newtown, but was afterwards sent to the city of New York, to prepare for admission to King's (now Columbia) College. He subse- quently became a member of that institution, at which also he graduated, with high honour, in 1768. After his graduation, he returned to Newtown, and prosecuted his theo- logical studies under the direction of the Rev. Dr. Auchmuty, Rector of Trinity Church, New York. He engaged also, for a few years, in giving instruction in the Latin and Greek languages to the sons of several gentle- men, residents of the city. Having completed his preparatory course of study, he went to England in May, 1774, for the purpose of obtaining Episcopal ordination ; and, accordingly, on the 24th of June, he was ordained Deacon, and the next day Priest, in the Episcopal Palace at Fulham, by Dr. Richard Terrick, Bishop of London. Shortly after his return from England, in 1774, he began to officiate in Trinity Church and its Chapels, New York, and was soon appointed, with the Rev. John Bowden, (afterwards Dr. Bowden, Professor in Columbia College,) an Assistant Minister of Trinity; Dr. Auchmuty being Rector, and afterwards Dr. Inglis. He was appointed Rector of the same Church, on the 22d of December, 1800. In 1789, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by the College at which he was graduated. On the resignation of Bishop Provoost, in September, 1801, Dr. Moore was unanimously elected his successor. When, however, the General Con- vention met at Trenton, N. J., a few days after, notwithstanding Bishop Provoost had tendered his resignation on the ground of ill health, there were serious doubts raised in the House of Bishops as to the propriety of sanctioning the resignation of the Episcopate ; and the ultimate decision was against it. Nevertheless, in consideration of the exigences of the case, they declared themselves willing to consecrate to the office of Bishop any suitable person who should be presented to them with the requisite testimonials ; it being understood that such a person should be considered as Assistant, or Co-adjutor Bishop, during Bishop Provoost's life. Under these circumstances, Dr. Moore was consecrated Bishop at Trenton, in St. Michael's Church, September 11, 1801, by Bishop White, assisted by Bishops Claggett and Jarvis. Bishop Moore continued in the faithful discharge of the duties of the Episcopate, as well as of the Rectorship of Trinity Church, until he was disabled by the inroads of disease. He was also, from 1801 to 1811, Pre- • Berrian's Hist. Trin. Ch. N. Y.— MSS. from Prof. Clement C. Moore and others. 300 EPISCOPALIAN. sident of Columbia College, — an office which he had held pro tern., in 1775, during the absence of the President, — the Rev. Myles Cooper. In February, 1811, he was attacked by paralysis, which rendered him inadequate to any further public service. In May following. Dr. Hobart was consecrated Assistant Bishop of the Diocese, by means of which Dr. Moore was relieved from the responsibilities and anxieties attendant on the Episcopate. He lingered in great feebleness, until the beginning of the year 1816, suffering meanwhile from repeated attacks of paralysis, till death finally came to his relief. He expired on the 27th of February, at his residence at Grreenwich, near New York, in the sixty-eighth year of his age. An Address was delivered at his interment, by Bishop Hobart, from which the following is an extract : — " Simplicity was his distinguishing virtue. He was unaffected in his temper, in hig actions, in every look and gesture. Simplicity, which throws such a charm over talents, such a lustre over station, and even a celestial loveliness over piety itself, gave its insinuating colouring to the talents, the station, and the piety of our venerahle father. But it was a simplicity accompanied with uniform prudence, and with an accurate knowledge of human nature. "A grace allied to simplicity was the meekness that adorned him, — a meekness which was ' not easily provoked,' never made an oppressive display of talents, of learning or of station, and condescended to the most ignorant and humble, and won their confidence: while, associated with dignity, it commanded respect, and excited affection, in the circles of rank and affluence. And it was a meekness that pursued the dictates of duty with firmness and perseverance. " His piety, arising from a lively faith in the Redeemer whom he served, and whose grace he was commissioned to deliver, warmed as it was by his feelings, was ever under the control of sober judgment. A strong evidence of its sincerity was its entire ireedom from every thing like ostentation It did not proclaim itself at the corners of the streets — it did not make boastful pretensions, or obtrude itself on the public gaze; but it was displayed in every domestic, every social, every public relation. It was not the irregular meteor, glittering for a moment, and then sinking in the dark- ness from which it was elicited; but the serene and steady light that shineth more and more unto the perfect day. "He rose to public confidence and respect, and to general esteem, solely by the force of talents and' worth. In the retirement of a country village, the place of his nativity, he commenced his literary career, and he prosecuted it in the public seminary of this city, and subsequently, in his private studies, until he became the finished and the well furnished divine. " His love for the Church was the paramount principle that animated him. He entered on her service in the time of trouble. Steady in his principles, yet mild and prudent in advocating them, while he never sacrificed consistency, he never provoked resentment. In proportion as adversity pressed upon the Church, was the firmness of the afiection with which he clung to her. And he lived until he saw her, in no inconsiderable degree by his counsel and exertions, raised from the dust, and putting on the garments of glory and beauty. " It was this affection for the Church, which animated his Episcopal labours; which led him to leave that family whom he so tenderly loved, and that retirement which was so dear to him, and where he found, while he conferred, enjoyment, and to seek in remote parts of the Diocese for the sheep of Christ's fold. His character was ever marked by a firm attachment to evangelical truth, in connection with primitive order." Bishop Moore published two Sermons in the American Preacher, Vols. I. and II., 1791, and a Sermon before the General Convention of the Pro- testant Episcopal Church, 1804. He published also, before the close of the last century, a controversial pamphlet in vindication of the Episcopal Services, against some strictures of the Rev. Dr. Rodgers. After his death, two octavo volumes of his Sermons were published under the direction of his son, Clement C. Moore, LL. D. Mr. Moore was married some time before the year 1779, to a lady whose maiden name was Charity Clarke. They had one child only, Clement C, BENJAMIN MOORE. 301 who was graduated at Columbia College in 1798, and was for many years Professor of Hebrew in the General Theological Seminary of the Protest- ant Episcopal Church, New York. Mrs. Moore died on the 4th of Decem- ber, 1838, in the ninety-second year of her age. FROM NATHANIEL F. MOORE, LL. D., PRESIDENT OF COLUMBIA COLLEGE. Columbia College, May 31, 1818. Rev. and dear Sir: I fear you will find it difficult to obtain from any one, at this late day, such a notice of Bishop Moore as may suit your purpose. lie may be considered as having departed this life more than thirty-seven years ago; for the last five years of his existence Iiere were little else than a living death. Of course it must be now a very aged man who could undertake, from personal acquaintance, to say much about him. As for myself, my recollections are so few and unimportant as scarcely to be worthy of your attention. The unanimity with which Bishop Moore was chosen,to fill several most impor- tant offices, sufficiently attested his merit, and the estimation in which his con- temporaries held him; but the very qualities which, independent of his pietj' and learning, recommended him to them,. — ^his meek and gentle disposition, his quiet, modest, unostentatious character, prevented his life from leaving such conspicu- ous traces as it might otherwise have made. He was, I know, during life, greatly respected and beloved, and one might, I think, infer that he was likely so to be, from a single anecdote which I will relate, it being highly characteris- tic of him. His summer residence was a short way South of where his son still lives at Chelsea; and though all around was completely country at that time, yet it was so nigh to town that the grounds were much infested by cockney sportsmen, who even came so near the house that their shot was sometimes heard to rattle against its windows. This was, of course, a serious annoyance, and naturally led to angry remonstrances on the part of members of the family, with threats of punishment against these strolling gunners. I remember a violent dispute which I myself, when staying at my uncle's, had with one of them, whose gun I would have taken away. One morning two young men, of respectable appearance, equipped as sportsmen, were roaming about, and occasionally shooting between the house and the river. The Bishop walked out, and while the youths, con- scious that they were transgressing, rather avoided his approach, he leisurely joined them, bade them good morning, and asked them kindly to go to his house, and take their breakfast with him. Upon their excusing themselves, he said, — " I would a great deal rather you should do so, young gentlemen, than remain here and shoot my birds." This quite overpowered them; and they assured the Bishop that they would never again shoot any thing upon his grounds. Excuse the brevity of this communication, my dear Sir, and believe me, with sincere regard, ever yours, NATHANIEL F. MOORE. FROM THE REy. DAYID MOORE, D. D., EEOTOK or ST. ANDREW'S CHURCH, STATEN ISLAND. Staten Island, April 29, 1851. Dear Sir : I am willing to comply with your request for my reminiscences of that truly great and good man, the Rt. Rev. Benjamin Moore, D. D.; and yet I fear that it will be but very imperfect justice that I shall be able to do to his exalted character. I can speak of him without the partiality of kindred, for I 302 EPISCOPALIAN. am not aware that there was any blood relation between our families; and yet I can testify from the best opportunities of knowing him, for our families were always united in an intimate and endearing friendship. Tf I may go back to a period anterior to my birth, I may say that Bishop Moore officiated at the marriage of my venerated parents. In my early infancy, lie dedicated me to God in Baptism. He confirmed me when I had arrived at years of religious accountableness. Under his supervision! pursued my studies for four years in Columbia College, during which time he always treated nie with the affection of a father; and I may add, in this connection, that he was a universal favorite with both the Faculty and the students. In taking leave of old Columbia, in 1806, I had the honour of receiving from his hands the degree of Bachelor of Arts. Having gone through the usual course of preparation for the ministry, my old friend and patron ordained nie to the sacred work. From this time the attachment which had existed between us, being greatly modified of course by the difference in our ages, was ripened into an intimacy .still more affectionate, and I could hardly tell whether he was more an object of my love or veneration. In private life. Bishop Moore was one of the most attractive of men. In his bodily appearance he was slender, and of about the medium stature. His man- ners reflected both intelligence and loveliness — there was grace, and dignity, and gentleness, without the least semblance of affectation, or any attempt to appear condescending or patronizing. In short, he was as fine a model of a Christian gentleman as I remember ever to have met with. As a preacher, too, I can speak of him with unqualified approbation. During a four years' residence in New York, I was a constant attendant upon his min- istrations; and though we had in the Parish of Trinity Church several very able and faithful ministers, yet I must say tliat there was that about the Bishop that gave him a precedence in my estimation that I could not disguise to myself. Ilis voice, though rather feeble than powerful, was music to the ear; and his enunciation was so distinct that the most distant hearer was in no danger of losing a word. There was also a remarkable dignity and solemnity of manner, which was fitted to leave an Impression even upon the most careless mind. His discourses were written in a style of great classical purity, and were rich in the most precious truths of the Gospel. In his intercourse with the Clergy connected with his Diocese, he seemed to occupy the position of a father. He was always ready to sympathize with those who were in any difficulty or trouble; and if any one seemed inclined to think that his own trials exceeded in severity those which were allotted to almost any others, he had an admirable way of hushing the rising spirit of complaint bv assuring him that every pastor has his peculiar trials, and that there are none so great but that the grace of Christ is sufficient to sustain us under them. But if there was any one feature in the character of this venerable man that shone with brighter lustre than any other, it was that truly catholic spirit that breathed through his whole conduct. While he was a true, consistent, and I may add uncompromising. Episcopalian, he was neither an aggressive nor a pro- scribing one. I remember a circumstance in his ministry that may serve to illustrate this. The congregation of the old Presbyterian Church in "Wall Street, New York, then under the pastoral care oC Doctors Eodgers and Miller, had determined to pull down the ancient edifice in which their fathers had worshipped for almost a century, in order to erect one more modern, spacious and convenient. It happened, just at that time, that the French Episcopal Church, then in Pine Street, had lost its pastor, and was occupied only a part of the day by the American portion of the parish. This circumstance induced the officers of the Wall Street Church to apply to the Vestry of the French Church for liberty to BENJAMIN MOORE. 303 hold their services there, when the church was not occupied by tlieir own people. As it was rather a novel case, the gentlemen composing the Vestry were unwilling to give a decisive answer before consulting the Bishop. A committee was accord- ingly appointed for that purpose; and no sooner had they presented the wishes of their Presbyterian brethren to him, than he gave his full, cordial, unqualified consent. It was just what those who knew him would have anticipated. With sentiments of the highest respect, I am. Rev. Sir, your friend and bro- ther, in the bonds of the Gospel of peace, DAVID MOORE. FROM THE HON. GTJLIAN C. VERPLANCK. New York, 18tli Dec., 1857. Rev. and dear Sir: In answer to your inquiry as to my personal Icnowledge of the life and character of Bishop Benjamin Moore, of New York, I can give you only youthful recollections and impressions relating to his social manner and bearing, and his public ministerial duties, without reference to his character as a theologian, or his administration of tlie Episcopal oflBce. In relation to these latter points, you can get much more precise information, than I can give, from other sources; but on the former, my recollections, so far as they go, are very distinct and vivid. I was in the habit of seeing him in the pulpit from my child- Iiood, and, from his intimacy with my grandfather and other relatives and friends, 1 linevv liini personally as well as a boy or very young man can com- monly know an eminent divine of middle or advanced age. In private life he was very popular, much and generally respected in the wliole city, and beloved hy his own parishioners. His habitual manner was courteous, grave and placid, but he had a flow of agreeable conversation, and was also remarkable for a great deal of quiet humour, which, whether in anecdote or in remark, was always delivered with an undisturbed gravity of expression. His learning may not have been very profound or varied, but he was certainly a well read divine, and a scholar of cultivated taste, very familiar with the best Latin and English classics. His taste was refined and simple, and his sermons and other compositions were marked by great clearness and simplicity, and a certain Addisonian ease and grace of expression. His manner and deliver}' in the pulpit and in the public offices of his Church, were very peculiar — at once solemn, pleasing and impressive. His voice, though pleasing in its lower and level tones, was naturally feeble, and when at all raised or excited, became tremulous and somewhat guttural. By great attention to a very deliberate and distinct articulation, he became, without losing these natural peculiarities, one of the most eflective and attractive of readers and speakers. He always commanded the attention, and witliout apparent effort was heard with perfect ease in our largest buildings, where any voice, no stronger than his, but managed with less skill, would have been quite lost. His delivery in the pulpit was very reveren- tial and earnest, and occasionally fervent, but always perfectly simple, and with- out any gesture whatever. His reading of the Liturgy and the Scriptures was strikingly devotional and impressive. The natural tremulousness of his voice added to the effect, especially in the invocations of the Litany and in other pas- sages of fervid devotion. The same cause gave a peculiarly solemn and pathetic effect to his delivery of the Funeral Service of the Episcopal ritual, such as I have never heard equalled by any other person. One instance of the taste and impressiveness of his reading is worth men- tioning, for it is preserved only by tradition. It was before my own memory of such things, but tradition has preserved it in this city for sixty years. It was in the reading (whether in the lesson of the day, or in a text or scriptural quo- tation in the pulpit, I cannot say) of the narrative (Exodus xii. ,30) of the miraculous death of the first-born of Egypt. His manner of reading and of 304 EPISCOPALIAN. emphasis of the concluding words, — "And there was a great cry in Egypt, for there was not a house in which there was not one dead " — produced, particularly in the words " a great cry," a thrilling effect on the whole congregation, which was much spoken of at the time, and has been long remembered. These effects were all produced wfth his habitual quiet and reverential simplicity of manner, without any approach to a studied or artificial delivery. Bishop Moore was for some years President of Columbia College, but the terms of his acceptance of the office relieved him from all regular instruction and the details of College discipline, and confined his duties to presiding at the pub- lic examinations oi the classes, at the weekly declamations, and at Commence- ment and other public occasions. I well remember his manner of presiding, conferring degrees, and addressing the young graduates, as peculiarly dignified and paternal. I am very truly Your friend and servant, G. C. VERPLANCK. JOHN BOWDEN, D, D * 1774—1817. John Bowdbn, the eldest son of Thomas Bowden, Esq., an officer in His Britannic Majesty's forty-sixth regiment of foot, was born in Ireland on the 7th of January, 1751. On the breaking out of the French War, his father came with his regiment to America, and the son soon followed him, under the charge of a clergyman of the Church of England. On his arrival, his studies were directed with a view to entering Princeton Col- lege, of which, in due time, he became a member ; but he remained there only two years ; as his father, at the end of that time, returned to Ireland, and took him along with him. After remaining some time there, he came back to America, in 1770, and entered King's (now Columbia) College, in the city of New York, where he graduated in 1772. Soon after leaving College, he commenced the study of Divinity, and, having prosecuted it for some time, went to England for Episcopal ordination. He was ordained Deacon by Dr. Keppel, Bishop of Exeter, and Priest by Dr. Terrick, Bishop of London, in 1774. In the summer of the same year, he returned to New York, where he was settled as an Assistant Minister of Trinity Church, in conjunction with the Rev. (afterwards Bishop) Benjamin Moore. Soon after the Revolu- tionary War broke out, the churches being closed in expectation that the British troops would take possession of the city, he retired to Norwalk, Conn. When Long Island and New York fell into their possession, he returned ; though it was not without some peril that he succeeded in doing so. Although he had been suffered to live there unmolested for some time, he, at length, on a certain evening, received an intimation from a friendly •Christian Journal, 1818.— Prof. MoViokar's Address at the Alumni Anniversary of Colum- bia College.— Rev. E. E. Boardsley'B Address, on the Fiftieth Anniversary of the Episcopal Academy at Cheshire, Conn. — Berrian's Hist. Trin. Ch. JOHN BOWDEN. 305 source that his safety demanded that he should make his escape at the ear- liest moment. He, accordingly, bade his family a hasty adieu ; wrapped himself in comfortable clothing ; and hurried to a place, where there was an open boat ready to receive him, and take him beyond the reach of 'patri- otic violence. He entered the boat with a single oarsman, and crossed the Sound in the darkness of night, nine miles, to the Long Island shore. When he reached the landing, a chaise was driven to the water's edge, and a lad jumped out and asked him if his name was Bowden. On being answered in the af&rmative, he told him that if he would take a seat in the chaise, he would immediately be taken to his father ; and the promise was fulfilled. Many years afterwards, he was dining in New York, at the house of a gentleman who inquired of him whether he had ever met the lad who took him from the boat to his father's quarters. He replied that he had not, though he had often desired to do so, and for that purpose had made considerable inquiry. " That lad," said the gentleman, " is now before you, — your host. The fortunes of both of us have since changed ; but nothing, I trust, will ever deprive me of the happiness which I have felt, and still feel, from a recollection of the service that I was then permitted to render you." Mr. Bowden was not able, on account of the weakness of his voice, to resume his charge in Trinity Church, and he, therefore, took up his resi- dence at Jamaica, on Long Island, where he occasionally assisted the Kev. Mr. Bloomer,* Eector of that parish. Upon the evacuation of New York, he returned to Norwalk, and accepted the Rectorship of the church in that place in December, 1784. Here he remained till October, 1789, when, owing to the weakness of his lungs, he consented to take charge of a small church at St. Croix, in the West Indies. Finding, after about two years, that his voice had not been improved by his residence there, and that his general health had rather suffered from the climate, he returned to the United States, and settled at Stratford, Conn. After residing there some time, he took charge of the Episcopal Academy in Cheshire, Conn., in 1796, where he continued nearly six years. At an adjourned Convention of the Diocese of Connecticut, held October 19, 1796, for the purpose of elect- ing a Bishop, he was unanimously chosen, but was excused from giving a decisive answer till the following June ; and then, owing to the weakness of his voice and some other considerations, he felt constrained to return a negative. In April, 1802, he entered on the Professorship of Moral Phi- losophy, Belles Lettres and Logic, in Columbia College, to which he had been appointed the preceding year. In this situation he remained, dis- charging its duties with great fidelity and acceptance, until the summer of 1817, when his declining health induced him to take a journey to Ballston Spa, where he closed his earthly course on the 31st of July, of that year. He there lies interred, with a modest tablet erected to his memory by the Trustees of Columbia College. He received the Degree of Doctor of Divinity from Columbia College in 1797. •Joshua Bloomer received the degree of Master of Arts from King's College in 1761; became a merchant in New Tork, and also an officer in the Provincial service; went to Eng- land for ordination in 1765 j settled as Rector of the Church in Jamaica, L. I., in 1769; and died there on the 23d of June, 1790. Vol. V. 39 306 EPISCOPALIAN. The following is a list of Dr. Bowden's published works : — A Letter to the Eev. Ezra Stiles, D. D., President of Yale College ; occasioned by some passages concerning Church Government, in an Ordination Ser- mon preached at New London, 1788. A Second Letter to Dr. Stiles, in which the Kev. Dr. Chauncy's " Complete View of Episcopacy until the close of the Second century" is particularly considered, and some Remarks are made upon a few passages of Dr. Stiles' Election Sermon. A Letter from a Weaver to the Rev. Mr. Sherman, occasioned by a publi- cation of his in the Fairfield Gazette, for the purpose of " Pinching the Episcopalian Clergy with the truth." An Address to the members of the Episcopal Church in Stratford ; to which is added a Letter to the Rev. Mr. James Sayre,* 1792. Two Letters to the Editor of the Christian's Maga- zine, by a Churchman. A Letter from a Churchman to his friend in New Haven ; containing a few Strictures on a pamphlet signed I. R. 0. Some Remarks in favour of the Division of the General Convention of the Church into two Houses ; the House of Bishops and the House of Lay Deputies ; the one having a negative on the other. A full-length Portrait of Calvinism. The Essentials of Ordination. The Apostolic Origin of Episcopacy asserted, in a series of Letters addressed to the Rev. Dr. Mil- ler, 1806. A Series of Letters addressed to the Rev. Dr. Miller, in answer to his Continuation of Letters, concerning the Constitution and Order of the Christian Ministry. Observations by a Protestant on a Profession of Catholic Faith, by a clergyman of Baltimore, and with the authority of the Rt. Rev. Bishop Carroll. The maiden name of Dr. Bowden's wife was Mary Jervis. They had three sons, — one of whom was lost at sea, another drowned at the Mauri- tius, and the third, James J., was graduated at Columbia College in 1813 ; was ordained Deacon by Bishop Hobart, in St. John's Chapel, New York, November 15, 1818 ; soon after removed to Maryland, where he was Rec- tor of St. Mary's Parish, St. Mary's County. He was married to Eliza- beth, daughter of Jam^s Claggett, Esq., of Montgomery, who died ten days before her husband, leaving one child, seventeen months old, — now (1858) the Rev. James J. Bowden, of Jersey City, N. J. Mr. Bowden (of Maryland) died at the age of twenty-six. FROM THE HON. GULIAN C. VERPLANCK. FisHKiLL Landing, 25th September, 1854. Eev. and dear Sir: I regret that it is not in my power to contribute to your work on the American Divines, any thing like a formal biographical sketch of the late Dr. Bowden, or, indeed, many important facts of his life. But I recollect him from my childhood, as a visiter and friend of my grand- father's; I was, for about a year, one of his pupils, when he entered upon the • James Satee is supposed to have been a Seotchmiin by birth, and was gradnated at the University of Pennsylvania in 1765. In 1790, he was settled at Stratford,' Conn., wliere he signalized himself by his refusal, in convocation of the Clergy of Connecticut, to approve the doings of the GQQeral CoBvention in regard to the Book of Common I*rayer, — entering his pro- test upon the Eecord j and by his violenc) against that, and Bishop Seabury for assenting to it, he prevented his parish from accepting it for a considerable time. The Kev. Dr- Bowden, who then resided in Stratford, in ill health, addressed a Letter to the parish, and another to Mr. Sayre ; and by these and other means employed by the Clergy, the parish were led to adopt the "new Book." Whereupon Mr. Sayre left, and went to Woodbury, Conn., where, howevtrj he remained but a short time. I am unable to trace him after this time ; but there is a tradition that he joined another denomination. JOHN BOWDEN. 307 duties of a Professor in Columbia College; and I had afterwards constant oppor- tunities of seeing him in public and in private, until the last year of his life. I can, therefore, give you my general impressions of his mind, character, and attainments, partly as they were formed from my own observation, and partly as they were gathered from the opinions of two or three eminent cotemporaries of liis, better qualified than myself to form a correct estimate of him. I have a vague recollection of having understood that, in his youth, he had been in some way in military life, or connected with the army; and his appear- ance, his walk, and general manner certainly resembled those of many of the military men of the last century, whom it has been my good fortune to know in their later years. He was, at any rate, a gentleman of the old school, in man- ners, deportment, and the usages of good society, together with that delicacy of personal honour and feeling, which distinguishes the better class of military men. But his life, within my memory, was mainly devoted to study, and to the business of instruction, — first as a private teacher, and afterwards a.^ a Professor. He was an accurate and exact scholar, familiar with the best authors of Greece and Rome, and of his own language, but I should think not of extensive or pro- found learning, or varied and excursive reading. In English literature, his taste and reading were of the school and age of Pope, Addison, and Johnson; and his acquaintance with the old English authors (lilte that of the majority of scholars in the last century) did not go beyond Shakspeare, nor extend to much famil- iarity with the cotemporaries of the great poet. He had acquired the French language, and was, I presume, acquainted in some degree with the classical authors of the age of Louis XIV; but he never indicated, either in his conversa- tion, or, as far as I recollect, in his wi'itten lectures or oral instruction in Belles Lettres, as Professor, any wide familiarity with French literature, nor at all with that of any other modern language, beyond what is commonly gathered up by a reading man from translations and reviews. His taste was pure and exact, and his style simple, wholly unaifected, always perspicuous, and often vigorous. He had, in his early education, and afterwards as a Teacher, acquired the elemen- tary Mathematics, and such general scientific knowledge as was required for the instruction he was called upon to give; but his tastes were not scientific, nor his acquirements in such studies at all extensive or profound; but he was well informed on most subjects of general interest. His theological studies, I think, bore the same character with his literature. He was accurately read in the best exponents of the Theology of the Church of England, and was a diligent student of ancient Ecclesiastical History; but he had, I believe, but little acquaintance with the modern exegetical or philological commentators and expounders of the Scriptures in their original tongues. I have an impression that the writings of Charles Leslie, the Non-juror,— now remembered chiefly, by his ' Short Method with the Deists,' but in his day a controversialist who bore arms in every field of theological polemics, were among his favourite reading. Johnson spoke of the Non-jurors, with whom he had many sympathies of feeling and opinion, as writers who could not reason, but he strongly excepted Leslie from the criticism, as " a reasoner indeed, and a rea- soner not to be reasoned against." From the reading of Leslie's two folios, (which I remember on the shelves to which he resorted for his chief reading,) Dr. Bowden may have derived, cer- tainly he there strengthened, his controversial powers, his clearness of statement, his acuteness of distinction, and his directness of argument. As a writer. Dr. Bowden was known to the world only as a controversialist. Besides his largest and most elaborate work on the question of the Episcopal succession and authority, he wrote several pamphlets on the passing subjects of the hour, which agitated the Church within the limits of his personal interest. It is many years since I have seen any one of these, but I recollect that they 308 EPISCOPALIAN. were distinguished not only by his usual clearness and force, but also sometimes by uncompromising severity, with no effort at elaboration of style or decorative eloquence. But in his College lectures, read to his class in Rhetoric and Belles Lettres, he somewhat indulged in figurative ornament, and quotations of a more popular cast, though certainly in no excess whatever in either. In his earliest years of clerical life, he had, as the traditions of my youth informed me, enjoyed no small share of popular favour; but long before my first jecoUections of liim, he had, from some bronchial affection, lost the command of his voice to such a degree that, though sufficiently intelligible in a room, he was embarrassed by frequent pauses and difficulties of utterance, so as to render his delivery to any audience painful, and scarcely intelligible. He was therefore compelled to abandon the pulpit, and the ordinary duties of the ministry, for the greater part of his life. But in later life, his voice was partially restored, and he occasionally, though rarely, reappeared in the pulpit. When his voice was unimpaired, he must have had no common powers of popular elocution. In read- ing his College lectures, in spite of his continually interrupted elocution, he gave his more elaborate periods, and his poetical quotations, with a taste and effisct that quite overcame the physical difficulties of his utterance. I do not know how frequently he reappeared in the pulpit in the later years of his life, but he was never able to resume any thing like regular ministerial duty. I remember well the only sermon I ever heard from his lips. It was delivered in Trinity Church, New York, in the edifice which preceded the present structure, which, though spacious, was much less in size than the present build- ing, and one remarkable for the ease with which the speaker could fill it. In spite of the many difficulties and interruptions of speech, which still clogged his delivery, Br. Bowden effectually commanded the attention of a large congregation, as well from a train of thought free from all common-place, and glowing with the earnestness of deep conviction, as by his corresponding manner, not at all vehement, yet signally earnest and impressive. Such, indeed, seems to me, must have been the pervading character of all his compositions, — never imaginative nor impassioned, nor enriched with varied allusion, illustration or embellishment, yet full of matter clearly stated and forcibly impressed. In fact, his whole character appears to me to have been remarkable for its per- fect unity; his bearing as a gentleman, his acquirements and tastes as a scholar, and his studies and writings as a divine, all harmonizing and corresponding with each other, and with the directness, honour, truthfulness, and high principle, of his moral nature. These qualities, probably deriving greater effect from their unity, made him useful and influential in his day and generation to a wider extent than many cotemporaries of more splendid natural gifts and richer endowments of learning, and in spite of the formidable impediments to the exercise of his talents in his proper and chosen sphere of duty as a Christian Minister, arising from years of enfeebled health and a broken voice. Such is the character of this able and venerable man, as it appears to me through the interval of many years, which have elapsed since his death. Writ- ing from memory, without access to any means of refreshing my recollections, I may have perhaps overstated some points, or not done him sufficient justice in others, but the outline here given is, I trust, substantially correct. I am, with great regard. Your friend and servant, GULIAN C. VEKPLANCK. WILLIAM DUKE. 3Q9 WILLIAM DUKE. 1774—1840. FEOM THE KEV. ETHAN ALLEN, D. D. Baltimoee, Md., May 20, 1858. My dear Sir : In complying with your request for some account of the Rev. William Duke, allow me to state that I am indebted for the facts which will form my narrative, as well as for my estimate of his character, to a diary which he kept from 1772 to 1830 ; to a sketch of his life by himself, written in Latin ; to his correspondence ; to our Convention Journals ; and to a very extensive and uniform tradition. William Duke was born in Petapsco Neck, Baltimore County, Md., on the 15th of September, 1757. At the time of the first coming of the Methodists into this part of the country, in 1773, his mind was turned with great interest to the subject of religion. And, in the following year, at the age of sixteen, he was licensed by Mr. Asbury as an Exhorter, and placed on the circuit including Philadelphia. As the preachers of that connection then were changed every three or six months, he was placed, in June, 1774, on the circuit in Frederick County, Md. In the fall and win- ter following, he was sent into Virginia. In May, 1775, he was put on the Philadelphia station, and on one occasion officiated in Congress, in opening the session with prayer. The next fall, he was placed on the Greenwich Circuit below that city ; in 1776, on the Brunswick Circuit in Virginia ; and in 1777, he was again stationed at Philadelphia. In the winter of that year, he was in Baltimore ; in the winter of 1779, in New Jersey ; and in the spring at Dover, De. H« then, as the Minutes of the Conference state, " desisted from travel- ling." His health seems to have failed, and he was obliged to suspend his labours. The summer following he spent in Baltimore, giving himself to relaxation and study. After having been diligently employed for six years in preaching and travelling, he found there were some things impor- tant to him which he did not know, and he resolutely set himself to acquiring them. In the winter and year following, he accepted the kind offer of Capt. Charles Ridgely, of Hampton, to attend on the instructions of his family teacher, and give himself to the study of the Latin and Greek Languages. In October, 1780, the Rev. Mr. Macgill,* the Rector for fifty years of Queen Caroline Parish, Elk Ridge, Ann Arundel County, having not long before died, Mr. Duke was invited by the people of the parish to preach in the church there — such was the estimation in which he was held by * Jaates Macgill was a native of Scotland. He came to the Province of Maryland in 1727, and became the minister of Somerset Parieh, Somerset County. In the spring of 1730, he became the incumbent of Queen Caroline Parish, Ann Arundel County. In October following, he was married by his friend, the Rev. Jacob Henderson, to Sarah Hilleary, of Prince George's County. He continued Minister of Queen Caroline Parish till the beginning of 1778, when the legal support of the Clergy was taken away. He became early possessed of a large landed estate. Late in life the title of Viscount of O.xford and Lord Macgill of Cowsland descended to him; but he did not see fit to return to Great Britain that he might enjoy it. He died Seeember 26, 1779j aged seventy-eight, leaving a widow, one son, and £ve daughters. 310 EPISCOPALIAN. those of the Church of England in that neighbourhood. He accepted the invitation, and continued there a year or more ; but, doubting his qualifi- cations for so important a station, he gave it up, and was occupied in teaching for some four years. In 1781, he was thus engaged in Lancas- ter, Pa. ; and in 1782, in the family of George Calvert, Esq., in Prince G-eorge's County, Md. This was in the neighbourhood of the Rev. Mr. (afterwards Bishop) Claggett, and led to an acquaintance between them, which ripened into an intimate friendship that continued as long as the Bishop lived. In 1783, he was engaged at Capt. Charles Ridgely's, Hampton, and the next year at Towsontown, in the same County. During this whole period of his connection with the Methodists, Mr. Duke considered himself a member of the Church of England, as it had existed in Maryland, and, as his journal shows, had attended regularly its public services. He said that the Methodists were then members of the Church, and the greater part of them well affected towards it ; so that, if you were to hear a Methodist speak of the Church and of Dissenters, you would not only perceive a decided preference for the Church, but such a preference as holds to the one and not to the other. This, he tells us, added many to their Society, who would otherwise have lived and died in their original profession. Holding these views, when, at Christmas, 1784, the Methodist Conference constituted themselves a separate Church, Mr. Duke and his friend Mr. Coleman, who had been led into the same course with himself, at once dissolved their connection with that body. In October, 1785, he was admitted by Bishop Seabury to Holy Orders in the Protestant Episcopal Church, as the Church of England in the United States was now called ; and soon after, at the request of his former friends there, he became the Rector of Queen Caroline Parish, Elk Ridge, where, as I have already mentioned, he ofiBciated as a lay preacher. He remained there, however, only a year. In February, 1787, he was called to St. Paul's Parish in Prince George's County, — the parish in which was the family residence of his friend. Dr. Claggett. The Doctor, at that time, however, had charge of and lived in an adjoining parish. Here the acquaintance previously formed between them became more intimate, as their opportunities for intercourse were more frequent. Here, in 1789, Mr. Duke published a pamphlet which he called " Thoughts on Repentance;" and, in the year following, a small volume of ninety pages, entitled " Hymns and Poems." But he was now called to reap some of the fruits of the voluntary support of the ministry, which succeeded the legal system, and which followed the separation of the Church and Civil Government at the Revolution. To do now voluntarily what they had done before under the compulsion of law, was a lesson which the people had not learned. To aid in his support, therefore, Mr. Duke opened a school at the County seat in the upper part of his parish, in connection with his parochial charge. But soon after, he took charge of a son of a Mrs. West, and resided at Wood Yard, an estate in his parish. In 1789, the year previous, he had formed the purpose of visiting the West, to assist, so far as he might, in planting and spreading religion and learning. With this view, a testimonial was given him by the Dioocsau WILLIAM DUKE. 321 Convention, signed by its President, the Kev. Dr. Claggett, stating that ^' Mr. Duke was a good and faithful minister of Jesus Christ, well learned in Divinity, and in the Latin and Hebrew Languages " — such had been his assiduity in his studies, and such his progress in them, unaided and alone, and yet engaged all the while in preaching and in teaching. This movement on the part of Mr. Duke and the Convention, it is believed, was the first ever made in the Episcopal Church, in Domestic Missions to our Western country. Why Mr. Duke's intention was not carried out is not known. But the matter was not given up by Dr. Clag- gett. After he became Bishop, he first sent the Kev. Edward Gantt, M. D.,* to Kentucky, and after that the Rev. Samuel Keene, Jr.t The latter especially was quite successful, and, returning at the end of a year, brought with him Mr. Williams Kavanaugh, a Methodist preacher, who was ordained by the Bishop, and sent back in 1800. In 1803, the Rev. Mr. Kavanaugh, and the Rev. Mr. Moore,t and some of the Laity of Kentucky applied to Bishop Claggett to send to their aid two clergymen, and to take the Church there under his Episcopal jurisdiction. The latter was acceded to ; and in order to carry out the former, the Bishop formally proposed to Mr. Duke to be constituted his Archdeacon, and sent to Ken- • Edward Gantt, M. D., was a native of Prince George's County, Md. While in the praotioe of medioiue, in Somerset County, he went to England, and received Holy Orders, in 1770. He officiated for a while in his native parish, and in 1776 went to All Hallow's Parish, Worcester County. At the end of four years, he returned to his native parish again, became its Rector, and sustained himself on bis estate by the practice of medicine, in 1795, he removed to Georgetown, after it had become a part of the District of Columbia, and there oxeroised his ministry. He was repeatedly chosen Chaplain to the United States Senate after 1800. About 1807, he removed to Kentucky. In 1836, he was living with his daughter, near Louisville, a hale, healthy old wan of ninety. t Samuel Kebsb, Jr., was a nephew of the Kev. Dr. Keene, and was a native of Queen Anne County. He was admitted to Holy Orders, in 1789, by JBishop White, and took charge of South Sassafras Parish, Kent County. At the end of the year, be became the Rector of St. X^aul's Parish, Queen Anne County. After remaining here six years, he was obliged to resign bis charge on account of ill health, and went to reside with his uncle. Dr. Keene. In 1798-99, he went out as a missionary to Kentucky, under the direction of Bishop Claggett, and was quite successful in his work there ; but his health compelled him to return, and, after lingering several years with consumption, he died on the 20th of December, 1805, aged forty. IIo was emphatically a good man. Dr. Samuel Keene, above mentioned, was born in Batimore County, on the 11th of May, 1734. He graduated at the College in Philadelphia, in June, 1759, and was ordained Deacon by the Bishop of Rochester, acting for the Bishop of London, at the Palace at Fulham, Sun- day, September 21, 1760 ; and by the same Prelate, at the same place, Priest, on the 29th of the same month. The next day, he waa licensed by the Bishop of London for Maryland. He received Letters of Induction from Governor Sharpe to St. Ann's Parish on the 23d of March, J762, and on the 30th presented them to the Vestry, and became the incumbent of the parish. Having been presented to St. Luke's Parish, Queen Anne County, July 27, 1767, ho resigned St. Ann's, and removed thither. In 1779, he became the Rector of Chester Parish, where he remained but two years, and then took charge of St. John's Parish, Queen Anne and Caroline Counties, probably in connection with St. Luke's, where he continued till 1792, living on his own estate. In 1786, he received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Washington College, Md. In 1803, he appears to have resigned St. Lukes, though continuing to reside there. In 1805, he became the Rector of St. Michael's, Talbot County. After 1807, he ceased to be its Rector, though he remained there till his death, which occurred on the 8th of May, 1810, at the age of seventy-six. He left no family. He was a highly influential clergyman, — was one of the Committee of Examiners appointed in 1783; one of the Superintending Committee of 1788-89, and one of the Standing Committee every year from 1788 to 1795. f Rev. James Mooke was the first minister of the Protestant Episcopal Church, who settled permanently In Kentueky. He migrated to that State in 1792, from "Virginia, being at that time a candidate for the ministry in the Presbyterian Church. His trial sermon and other exercises not being sustained by the Transylvania Presbytery, he regarded himself as having been treated with undue severity, and, in 1794, entered the Episcopal Church. Soon after- wards, he became the first Rector of Christ Church in Lexiogton. In 1798, he was appointed acting President of Transylvania University, and Professor of Logic, Metaphysics, Moral Philosophy, and Belles Lettres; in which situation he continued for several years. He had a high reputation as a Scholar, a Gentleman, and a Christian. 312 EPISCOPALIAN. tucky. But, owing to his feeble healtli, he was not able to accede to the proposal. But to go back a little — in 1791, Mr. Duke, requiring a position less laborious, accepted an invitation to minister in St. Paul's Chapel, in St. Paul's Parish, near Baltimore — it was his own native neighbourhood, and where his own patrimony was. During this year, the Kector of St. Paul's Parish, the Rev. Dr. Bend, as the Visiting Member of the Standing Com- mittee for this District, visited this Chapel. He reported that " the con- gregation was numerous, and behaved with great propriety, and was in a prosperous condition ; that the Sacrament of Baptism was well observed, and the number of communicants respectable ; that great harmony sub- sisted between the people and their minister, who was content with a very trifling compensation, receiving but little, if any, over two hundred dollars." While Mr. Duke was here, an intimacy grew up between him and Dr. Bend, and more than eighty letters from Dr. B. to his friend, still remain, showing in every page the high regard in which he held him, and their affectionate and confidential intercourse. In September, 1792, Mr. Duke received a call from North Elk Parish, at the head of the Chesapeake Bay, and East of the Susquehannah River, which he accepted. Here, on the 25th of May, 1793, he was married to Hetty, the daughter of the former Rector, the Rev. Joseph Condon.* She was spared to him, however, less than two years, as she died on the 17th of February, 1795, leaving an infant daughter. During this year, Mr. Duke published a duodecimo pamphlet of nearly sixty pages, entitled " Observations on the state of Religion in Maryland;" also an octavo pamphlet, entitled " Remarks on Education ;" and a duode- cimo volume of nearly four hundred pages, called " A Clue to Religious Truth." This volume Bishop Claggett, as well as others, took great pains to circulate. He said that it was " one of the best apologies for the Bible, that had ever appeared in this country, written by a native." He sent a copy to the English Reviews of that day, in which, as he wrote Mr. Duke, it obtained a very favourable notice. These publications were issued at a day when French Infidelity was making its inroads among the gentry of Maryland, and they had a wide circulation. In 1796, Mr. Duke was invited to the charge of St. Margaret's, West minster, Ann Arundel County, and, having accepted the invitation, he removed thither. At the Diocesan Convention of this year, he preached the Convention Sermon, and was elected into the Standing Committee, — a place which he held previously and subsequently for some years. But his health not permitting him to remain in charge of a parish, he removed in May following to Kent County, and resided in General Lloyd's family, * Joseph Coddon was born probably in Annapolis, and in 1782 became lay reader in North Elk Parish, having been previously master of the Free School in Kent County, which, in 1783, became Washington College. In 1784, he received the degree of Master of Arts. He was a lay member of the Convention of the Diocese, and was prominent in organizing the Church of England, as it was called, as the Protestant Episcopal Chnroh. In 1787, he was admitted to Deacon's Orders by Bishop White, in his forty-sixth year, and became the Rector of North Elk Parish. The next year, he was put on the Standing Committee — holding also a parish in Dela- ware, he was a delegate in the General Convention from that Diocese. He died ic April 1792, leaving a widow and five children. WILLIAM DUKE. 313 where he was engaged in teaching a few young gentlemen, and preaching, as he was able, in one of the vacant churches. Here both his health and spirits were uniformly bad ; and, after about a year and a half, he returned to his former residence at Elkton, in North Elk Parish, Cecil County. There, in October, 1799, he opened a classical school in his own house. At the same time, he was most industrious in the exercise of his ministry. He preached in his school-room ; in the church at North East ; at New London Cross Roads ; at the poor house, and other places ; and attended marriages and funerals, and baptized whenever applications were made to him, which were indeed many — and all this time suffering from greatly impaired health. In this way he continued for more than three years, until, in February, 1803, he received the appointment of Professor of Lan- guages in St. John's College, Annapolis. He had been here but a year, when, the Church (St. Ann's) of the city becoming vacant, he was solicited to accept it ; and so he did — being thus Rector of the Church, and Pro- fessor in the College, at the same time. During this year, he published a small poem, entitled "A View of the "Woods." In 1806, the General Assembly, in its wisdom, took away the funds of the College, which com- pelled it to disband. He consequently gave up the church in Annapolis, and once more returned to Elkton. Here, in July of that year, he took charge of an Academy, performing, at the same time, ministerial services, as many and as various as during his previous residence there ; and all without any pecuniary recompense. But his health rather grew worse than better ; and yet, besides his other engagements, he wrote a number of pieces, published in the Port Polio at Philadelphia, besides occasional Essays in the papers of the day. He was thus occupied during a period of six years. In 1812, at the earnest solicitation of Bishop Claggett and other friends, he became the Principal of Charlotte Hall School, St. Mary's County. Here he continued two years ; during which time, besides his Academic duties, he officiated often at one or other of the four churches nearest that place ; at many funerals ; at twenty marriages ; and near seventy baptisms. Again he returned to Elkton ; but owing to the war then existing with England, which exposed all on the Bay shores to its perils, he found it not safe to reside in the town, till the restoration of Peace in 1815. In 1816, he published a pamphlet on the difficulties in the Church of Maryland with the Rev. George Dashiell,* signed Stlvianus. In 1817, he prepared a volume of Essays, but they were never published. In 1818, he was appointed to superintend again the Academy at Elkton. After being thus occupied for some time, he relinquished the place, and • GEonoE Dashiell was a native of Somerset County, and was licensed, by the Convention of the Biooese, as lay reader in his native parish. Stepney, at the age of twenty. Soon after, he was admitted to Orders by Bishop White, and held successively parishes in Delaware; that of South Sassafras, KentCounty, Md. ; Chester, Kent County j and St. Peter's, Baltimore City j the latter of which was erected for him. In 1816, owing to difficulties in which he was involved, he renounced the Episcopal Church, set up independently for himself, and ordained others. He was distinguished by a fervid eloquence, and was often a member of the Standing Commit- tee, and of the General Convention. He removed from Maryland to Kentucky about 1826, and lived in the West till his death, which occurred at New York, in April, 1852, while he was on a visit to a grandson. His conduct, at one period of his life, was the subject of severe animad- version from many, though there were not wanting those, even then, who came to his defence. In his latter years his character seems to have been without reproach. Vol. V. 40 314 EPISCOPALIAN. opened a classical school in his own house, which he continued as long as his physical ability would permit. He was never, during any part of this time, unmindful of the ministry. He regularly held Divine service for the Congregation that assembled at his school-room, if not elsewhere, till dis- abled by age and infirmities. In 1819 and 1820, he was a large contributor to the pages of the Theo- logical Repertory, then, and for years after, published in Washington City. His principal articles were twelve Letters to Candidates for Holy Orders ; the Thirty-Nine Articles collated with texts of Scripture, in seven num- bers ; and an Essay on the Study of Hebrew. Mr. Duke became at length so enfeebled as to be unable even to feed himself; and so continued till his death, which took place in 1840, at the age of eighty-three. His only daughter survived him, and inherited his estate, which was quite considerable ; and she still resides in the house which he occupied for so many years. He left a very valuable library of about five hundred volumes, classical and theological, which Miss Duke has recently presented to St. James' College. There remain of his writings a volume of Essays, prepared by him for the press, and short Manuals of Khetoric and Logic. He was a man of great purity of life, and very clear and decided in his views of evangelical truth. He was earnest in his attachment to his Church and her worship, and yet charitable to a fault, some would doubt- less say, toward those who differed from him. His attainments in theolo- gical and classical learning compared well with those of the most respectable of his contemporaries. And for sixty-five years, he was truly a faithful servant of his Lord, both in the Church, and in the cause of Education. I never saw Mr. Duke but once, and that was at our Convention in 1819. In person he was tall and slender. His appearance indicated infirm health, and a nervous tremulousness was visible in his movements. He was much respected and reverenced by every one, and his meek piety could not fail to impress all who witnessed it. He was an extempore preacher, and con- sequently left but few written sermons. As the intimate and confidential friend of Bishop Claggett and Dr. Bend ; as an author whose works were read much in his day ; and as occupying various prominent situations, with credit to himself, and great usefulness to the Church and the world ; I am thankful that you ofi'er me an opportu- nity to perpetuate his memory. Eor as an example, under God, of a self made man; working hard and faithfully and yet studying intently, and thus, unaided by teacher or schools, mastering Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Bhetoric, Logic, &c., and so becoming eminent as a scholar, and not less so as a theologian, but few are found to equal him — scarcely any, it is believed, to rival him. It is evident, however, that his intellectual activity was too intense for his physical system, and thus occasioned him many years of debility and suffering. Most truly and faithfully, Your brother in Christ, ETHAN ALLEN. CHABLES PETTIGREW. 315 CHARLES PETTIGREW * 1775—1807. Charles Pettigrew was descended from a family, originally French, though they migrated to Scotland some time before the Edict of Nantes ; but whether from religious considerations or not is not now known. A branch of the family removed from Scotland to the County of Tyrone, Ireland ; whence James Pettigrew, the father of the subject of this sketch came to America, in the year 1740. His emigration is said to have been occasioned by some difference between himself and other members of his family ; but what the nature of it was is not now known, though it is presumed, from the fact that he was a;n earnest Dissenter from the Church of England, and withal was converted under the preaching of Whitefield, that it had respect to religion. His first resting place, after his arrival in this country, was in Pennsylvania, where he lived for some time amidst scenes of Indian bar- barity. On one occasion he and his family were the subjects of signal preservation, in consequence, it is said, of his rigid observance of the Sab- bath. The Indians having, on a certain Sunday, made an irruption into the settlement, spread havoc through the other dwellings, but the doors of his house being closed, out of respect to the sacredness of the day, it was passed by as uninhabited, and thus the family escaped. Charles Pettigrew was born in Pennsylvania, sometime after his father settled there. In 1768, his father removed with his family to South Car- olina, though this son stopped in North Carolina, and there made his permanent home. He received his education under two distinguished Presbyterian ministers, — namely, the Rev. Henry Patillo, and the Rev. James Waddel, (Wirt's blind clergyman,) from the latter of whom he seems to have received some special tokens of approbation and regard. Being obliged to depend mainly on his own efforts for a subsistence, he betook himself to the employment of teaching, and, in June, 1773, he was appointed Principal of the Public School in Edenton, N. C. But he was destined to a higher calling, and it was not long before the way was opened for his entrance upon it. Uniting to a devout spirit a vigorous intellect, and highly respectable mental acquirements, and having returned to the Communion of the Church from which his father had withdrawn, and to which his ancestors for several preceding generations had belonged, he determined to devote himself to the ministry. Accordingly, in the winter of 1774-75, he made a voyage to England, and received ordination both as Deacon and Priest, — the Bishop of London officiating on one occasion, and the Bishop of Rochester on the other. He returned to this country in the very last ship that sailed before the War. Immediately after his return, he entered on his clerical functions with great zeal : his parish church was at Edenton, at that time the principal town in the Colony, and he had chapels of ease in several of the adjoining counties. He was married, about the year 1778. to Mary, daughter of Colonel John Blount, of Revolutionary fame ; • MoKee's Life of Iredell.— MS. from J. Johnston Pettigrew, Esq. 316 EPISCOPALIAN. and by this connection the sphere of his influence and his usefulness was much enlarged. In a letter dated 1789, he alludes to his former habit of preaching to great crowds, and states that he was obliged to abandon it, on account of its almost invariably producing a fever. During this period, he seems to have enjoyed, in a high degree, the confidence not only of the Episco- pal Church, but of other denominations, especially of the Methodists and the Lutherans, the latter of whom particularly kept him apprized of their movements, and invited him to attend their meetings. In politics he was always a decided Whig ; and when he was in England he came near being involved in diificulties, on account of the free expression of his opinions in regard to the relations between the two countries. After the Peace, he was invited to one or more parishes in Virginia, but he preferred to remain in the region where he had already planted himself. In 1789, Bishop White suggested to G-overnor Samuel Johnston, the expediency of organizing the Episcopal Church in North Carolina ; but the Grovernor, not wishing to interfere with things ecclesiastical, referred the matter to Mr. Pettigrew, who requested a meeting of the Clergy at Tar- boro', in June, 1790. The call, however, seems not to have met with a very prompt or cordial response, for nearly four years passed before the contemplated object was accomplished. In May, 1794, after several smaller Conventions had been held, there was a Convention at Tarboro', by which a Constitution was framed and adopted, and Mr. Pettigrew elected Bishop. Though he was strongly averse to accepting the office, particularly in con- sideration of the feeble state of his health, yet, in view of the depressed condition of the Church, and the urgent wishes of his brethren, he at length gave his consent. But, though elected to the Episcopate, he was never consecrated. The prevalence of the Yellow Eever at Philadelphia and Norfolk, for several years, rendering communication with those cities dangerous at the season of the General Convention, and afterwards increas- ing bodily infirmities, prevented him from ever being more than a Bishop elect. Still, however, he was able in various ways to render important service to the Episcopal Churches in North Carolina, as well as to the inter- ests of religion in general. Mr. Pettigrew, considering his advantages, was evidently a well educated man ; and he took a deep interest in all measures designed to advance the cause of education. He had an important agency in establishing the Uni- versity of North Carolina; and so deeply was he impressed with the importance of the enterprise, that, on one occasion, when he was compelled to choose between the G-eneral Convention, and a meeting of the friends of the University, he preferred the latter. He was one of the over- seers of this institution from 1790 to 1793. There is still extant a letter of his, addressed to one of the officers of the institution, in 1797, expressing the deepest concern for the moral welfare of the students, and the apprehension that his own sons who were members of the University might suffer from bad associations. This was at a time when several of our literary institutions were seriously imperilled from the infidel and demoralizing influence of the French Bevolution. Mr. Pettigrew was highly esteemed, not only by his own denomination, but by all others with whom he was conversant, except the Baptists, between CHARLES PETTIGREW. 3^7 whom and himself there seems to have been no sympathy, and to say the least, on his part,no excess of forbearance. He published several tracts on Infant Baptism, one of them extending to some two hundred pages, but they were anonymous, and seem to have been designed for merely local circulation. His duties as a minister were very onerous ; as he had three or four counties under his charge, and was expected to preach a Funeral Sermon for every respectable parishioner ; and withal had to exercise his ministry under the disadvantage of a sickly climate. About 1794, he began to reside at the Plantations of Bonarva and Begrod, on and near Lake Scuppernong, and there built Pettigrew's Chapel, which he presented to the church. From this time till his death, he refused to receive any compen- sation for his services ; and, even under the Establishment, he expressly forbade the collecting of any thing from the Quakers. He was eminently happy in his domestic relations, and, by his cheerful and genial temper, contributed much to the happiness of those around him. In 1797, when he supposed himself near the close of life, he addressed a letter to his sons in College, which was afterwards printed, and which por- trays the character of a Christian gentleman in a very felicitous manner. It is a curious fact that in this letter he advises his sons " to make arrange- ments for white labour, as a change may take place sooner than is expected." His marriage placed him in easy circumstances ; but he showed little skill in the management of his worldly concerns. He died in 1807, and his remains repose in the family vault at Bonarva Plantation. His first wife, Mary Blount, died on the 16th of March, 1786, leaving two children, both sons. Late in life he was married to Mary Lockhart, — a lady of admirable qualities, of which marriage there was no issue. One son only (Ebenezer) survived him, who became an extensive planter, was a gentleman of high intelligence, and a member of Congress in 1834-35. The following obituary of Mr. Pettigrew appeared in the Edenton Grazette, shortly after his death : — "During the interruption of this publication, we are called to lament the death of many loved and valued characters. Among them we would particularly notice the death of that zealous and venerable disciple of the blessed Jesus, the Kev. Charles Pettigrew, Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church ,in this State, who died at his house in Tyrrel County, on the 7th of April last, (1807.) To do justice to the char- acter of this pious and excellent man would require talents we have not the happiness to possess, and far exceed the narrow limits of this paper. His public ministrations in this place, for many years, render eulogy unnecessary. His chaste and classical discourses, his fervid and animated devotion, his irreproachable and evangelical life, will long, very long, be remembered, with melancholy regret, by those who enjoyed the advantage of his public admonitions and instructions. In him were exemplified that ' simplicity and godly sincerity,' which are the perfection of Christian character. Oppressed by the infirmities of a feeble constitution and frequent disease, his cheer- fulness did not desert him. As the world and its ■fleeting joys receded ft-om his view, his faith in Christ and hope of immortal glory acquired additional strength and vigour. He was, at all times, blest with that serene and placid temper, that meek and patient spirit of resignation, which are the strongest proofs of a life of piety and virtue and of a rational, well grounded hope in the Gospel of the blessed Jesus. Having fought a good fight on earth, having finished his course, having kept the faith, we trust he has now ascended to the bosom of his God, to reap a rich reward in the regions of eternal rest, peace and joy. 'Mark the perfect man and behold the upright: for the end of that man is peace.'" 318 EPISCOPALIAN. RT. REV. JAMES MADISON, D. D * 1775—1812. James Madison was born August 27, 1749, near Port Kepublic, llockingham County, Va, His father was a respectable citizen, and for many years Clerk of an extensive District, including the County of Rock- ingham, and known as West Augusta. The son was sent, at an early age, to an Academy in Maryland ; and, having there gone through his prepara- tory course, he entered the College of William and Mary in 1768. He was distinguished for his general scholarship, and especially for his attain- ments in classical learning, in token of which he received a gold medal, assigned by Lord Bottetourt, in 1772. Shortly after he graduated, he commenced the study of the Law, under the celebrated Chancellor Wythe, and, in due time, was admitted to the Bar ; but he felt little interest in the profession, and, having made a single effort in an Admiralty case, he aban- doned it with a view to devote himself to the Ministry. In 1773, he was chosen Professor of Mathematics in the College at which he had graduated ; and about two years, after carried out his purpose to obtain ordination in the Episcopal Church. In the Record of the Board of Visiters of the College is found the following entry, bearing date February 16, 1775 : — " Upon reading a letter from Mr. Madison, Professor of Mathematics, dated 16th of December last, leave is given him to go to England for the purpose of entering into Holy Orders ; upon his promise that his school should be provided for during his absence in the best manner in his power. And the Clerk is directed to let Mr. Madison know that the Visiters highly approve of his intention, and have agreed to allow him the sum of fifty pounds sterling out of the College funds." In accordance with this Reso- lution, he proceeded to England in the spring of 1775, was admitted to Holy Orders, and on the 1st of October following was licensed by the Bishop of London for the Colony of Virginia. Immediately on his return, he resumed his labours as Professor, and, in 1777, had devolved upon him, in addition, the Presidency of the College. He was then only twenty- eight years of age ; and the statute requiring that the President should not be less than thirty wia,s suspended in his favour. In the course of this year, he revisited Great Britain, with a view to qualify himself more fully for the duties of his office ; and he remained abroad, chiefly in London, till near the close of 1778 ; during which time, he availed himself of the instruction of the celebrated Cavallo, and several other of the great lights of the scientific world. On his return to this country, he entered with great alacrity upon his duties in connection with the College, and he succeeded admirably in sus- taining its interests through the stormy period of the Revolution ; its exercises being interrupted only for a few months, immediately before and immediately after the siege of Yorktown. Until 1784, he had held, in • Allen's Biog. Diet.— Hawks' Eool. Contrib., I.— MSS. from the Hon. Ex-President Tyler, Hon. C. S. Todd, Robert G. Scott, Esq., Kbt. Dr. Hawks, and Rev. Dr. Totten. JAMES MADISON. 3I9 connection with the Presidency, the Professorships of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy; but, at that time, he retired from the Mathematical department, and became Professor of Natural and Moral Philosophy, Inter- national Law, &o., and retained this office, together with that of President, as long as he lived. The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by the Uni- versity of Pennsylvania in 1785. Notwithstanding the Episcopal Church in Virginia had been in existence for more than a century and a half, she never had a resident Bishop until some time after the American Revolution ; being nominally a part of the Diocese of the Bishop of London. Her first Convention was held in Richmond, in May, 1785; of which Dr. Madison was unanimously appointed President. In the Convention of the succeeding year, the Rev. Dr. Griffith was designated as a suitable person to be proposed to the Eng- lish Bishops for Consecration to the Episcopate in Virginia ; but, as he was prevented, by want of funds and some other circumstances, from visit- ing England, he never applied for Consecration, and, in 1789, he signified that he was no longer a candidate for the place. In the Convention of 1790, Dr. Madison was chosen in his place, and he forthwith proceeded to England, and on the 19th of September of the same year, was duly conse- crated to his office in the Chapel of the Palace at Lambeth, by the Arch- bishop of Canterbury, the Bishops of London and Rochester taking part in the service. During his brief sojourn in England, at this period, he became acquainted with many of the leading spirits of the time, and with some of them maintained an uninterrupted correspondence to the close of life. He returned to the United States at the end of eight months. At the period when Bishop Madison entered on his office, the Episcopal Church in Virginia was in a state of extreme depression, the Clergy being greatly reduced in numbers, and many of them actually suffering from poverty. The Bishop availed himself of his first meeting with his Clergy in Convention, to read to them a very honest and sensible homily in respect to the causes which had led to the then existing state of things. The following is an extract : — " I do not think that I should discharge my duty in the manner which my con- science and my inclination dictate, were I not to speak, upon this occasion, with all that plainness and freedom which the importance of the subject demands. I know that our Church is blessed with many truly pious and zealous pastors, — pastors from whose example the greatest advantage may be derived by all of us; but, at the same time, I fear there is too much reason to apprehend that the great dereliction sustained by our Church hath arisen , in no small degree, from the want of that fervent Christian zeal, which such exajnplea ought more generally to have inspired. Had the sacred fire committed to our trust been every where and at all times cherished by us, with that watchful and jealous attention which so holy a deposit required; — had it been thus cherished, might not that ancient flame, which once animated and enlightened the members of our Church, still have diffused its warmth? Instead of indiflferenoe to our Church, might we not now have beheld many of those members who have forsaken her, still ardent and zealous in her support? Let us then be renewed, I entreat you, in the spirit of Our vocation, in that holy, fervent zeal which should be the distinguishing characteristic of every minister of the Gospel. But how is that zeal to be displayed? I answer, — by our conversation and our example. Be thou an example of believers in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity. We are to watch for the souls of others as they that are to give account. If such be the nature, such the functions, of our sacred embassy, what Minister, what Priest, what Bishop is there, who vifill not, with pious awe, reflect most seriously upon the momentous charge committed to him ; and while he profoundly meditates upon the extent of his duties, 320 EPISCOPALIAN. ardently supplicate at the throne of grace the renewal of that fervent zeal, without which the great ends of his ministry can never be accomplished." Bishop Madison made his first Episcopal Visitation in 1792 ; and though he found every where much to deplore, there were also some encouraging indications, especially in the increased zeal that was mani- fested among certain portions of the Laity. At this period, his heart seems to have been intensely fixed on uniting, as far as possible, all sincere Christians. " There is no one," he says, " but must cordially wish for such a union, provided it did not require a sacrifice of those points which are deemed essentials by our Church ; from them we have not power to retreat." He introduced a proposition to this efi^ect in the General Con- vention held at New York, in 1792 ; but it met with no favour, and was silently withdrawn. On the same occasion, he expressed his opinion and gave his vote against the use of " Articles " altogether, opposing them on "the principles of the Confessional, and other like books." The Bishop, with a slender salary of only a hundred pounds a year, con- tinued to make occasional Visitations ; but, though his preaching was highly popular, and his character commanded general respect, his influence did little to revive the languishing interests of the Church. Indeed, it was scarcely possible that, with a slender constitution, and his duties as Presi- dent and Professor in the College pressing upon him, he should perform the amount of service in his Diocese, which the exigency urgently demanded. At the Convention of 1805, he asked for an Assistant Bishop, but the subject ■was postponed, and the result was that none was appointed. At length, his health sunk under the pressure of care and anxiety, and, after a pain- ful illness of many months, he died, March 6, 1812, in the sixty-third year of his age. Bishop Madison's published works are a Thanksgiving sermon, 1781 ; a Letter to J. Morse, 1795 ; an Address to the Episcopal Church, 1799 ; a Eulogy on Washington, 1800 ; and a Discourse at the Funeral of Mrs. Ann Semple, sister of Ex-President Tyler, 1803. Bishop Madison was married, in 1779, to Sarah Tate of Williamsburg, who was the granddaughter of the Hon. James Cocke, at one time Secre- tary of the Colony of Virginia. She was also connected with Catesby, the naturalist. She lost her parents at an early age, and Mr. Robert Car- ter Nicholas, well known in the history of Virginia, became her guardian, and performed, with singular fidelity, in every particular, that important trust. She vras highly educated, and, in the time of Lord Dunmore, was one of the bright belles who adorned the fashionable society of Williams- burg. She early united herself to the Episcopal Church, and continued to the period of her death a devoted member. In every respect, her charac- ter was one of a high order. Of bland and amiable manners, she was pos- sessed of much intellectual power, and in all the relations of life proved her- self a shining model. She survived the Bishop about three years and a half, and died in Williamsburg, greatly lamented, on the 20th of August, 1815. Bishop Madison left, at his death, two children, — James Catesby, who resides (1849) in the County of Koanoke, and a daughter, Susan Ran. dolph, who married Robert G. Scott, and died at Richmond, on the 28th of May, 1847. JAMES MADISON. 321 FROM THE HON. JOHN TYLER, PKESIDENT OF THE CNITED STATES. Sherwood Forest, December 14, 1848. Rev. and dear Sir : Your very flattering letter of the SOthof November reached nie by our last mail, and I beg to repeat the assurance already given you, that a compliance on my part with any request you may make of me, which it is in my power to execute, will always afford me the truest pleasure; and, as an evi- dence of the fact, I proceed to give you, without delay, such reminiscences of Bishop Madison as occur to me. My acquaintance with that Eight Reverend Prelate commenced at the early age of twelve years, upon my entering the school of Ilumaaity of William and Mary College. He was then, as he had been for many years before, and as he continued to the day of his death, President and Professor of that ancient and renowned University. His course of lectures embraced a great variety of sub- jects, and occupied the whole of his time for nine months in the year. He was spare in his form, but approached six feet in height. He possessed not the mas- sive brow, so indicative of deep thought and clear mind, but yet a single glance impressed you with the idea that you stood in the presence of one whose life had been devoted to study, and who might justly be regarded as rightfully exercising the oiflce of a high-priest in the temple of science. His manner to the inmates of the College was kind and parental, and his reproof of the young men entrusted to his care, for any delinquency, was uttered in the gentlest tones — nothing harsh, nothing morose, but his chidings wore always the appearance of being uttered more "in sorrow than in anger;" and so strongly did he impress every student with the sense of his deep solicitude for his welfare, that, at this distant day, no one who attended the College during the time that he presided over it, hesitates to acknowledge him as a second father. As President, he exercised a general superintendence over the whole College and all its classes, and his attentions were bestowed equally upon the " grammar boys " as upon the students in the higher classes. Thus it was that he was venerated throughout the institution. I well remember the impression he made upon me, on my first introduction: he addressed me familiarly by my proper name, and soon succeeded in placing me entirely at ease, and terminated our interview by the expression of the hope that I should not only, in due season, win the honours of the Institution, but in the end reflect honour upon it, — thus seeking to inspire me with a laudable ambi- tion, and stimulating me to the use of exertion to excel. He was rigid in requir- inn- the attendance of all the youth of the College at morning prayer in the Chapel. The prayers were of course selected from the compilation of the Epis- copal Church, and read by himself; and nothing could exceed the impressiveness of his reading, or the clearness and distinctness of his enunciation. The deep tones of his voice and its silvery cadence were incomparably fine. It has been- my fortune to hear our first and most distinguished orators, as well in our pub- lic assemblies as in the pulpit; but I recollect nothing to equal the voice of Bishop Madison. No word was mouthed, no sentence imperfectly uttered, but all was- clear and distinct, and fell in full harmony on the ear. I remember one occasioni in particular when he was as impressive as man could well be — Resolutions had; been entered into by many citizens to celebrate the anniversary of the landing or our forefathers at Jamestown, for the first time after a lapse of two hundred, j^ears. [How differently are these things observed in New England!] Bishop. Madison consented to open the services of the occasion by an Address to thafc ereat and self-existent Being, in the hollow of whose hands are held the destiny of men and nations. On the 7th day of May, 1807, 1 found myself, having but ■V short time before completed my sixteenth year, in the midst of a large crowd', Vol. V. 41 322 EPISCOPALIAN. at the site of that ancient city, whose foundations had been, more that a century before, razed to the ground. I was, for the first time, treading the earth on which a band of bold and fearless adventurers had trod two centuries before. There they planted the small seed, which has now grown into a tree, whose branches are watered by the dew of two oceans. I looked around me for the traces of that mighty event, so full of interest to the human family — nought remained but the scattered materials which had been used by the workmen, in the rearing of the habitations which no longer existed, and the broken steeple of the building dedicated to God, in which " good master Hunt* " had officiated as minister, and generations had worshipped. That broken steeple still remains as a monument of the past. The rebellion of 1676, headed by Nathaniel Bacon, had brought in its train of consequences the conflagration of the entire city, including also the church. Many monuments of the dead, some of them bearing quaint inscriptions, had survived the flight of time, and it was from one of these that Bishop Madison offered up thanksgiving, supplication, and praise to the Supreme Ruler of the Universe. The occasion, the scenery around, the broken spire, the monuments of the dead, the tall, but graceful and dignified form of the venerable suppliant, the full tones of that sonorous voice, the pathos of which sunk deep into the heart, — all, all, made an impression upon me, which time has in no manner eifaced. The Address to the Throne of Grace was truly eloquent, and found its way, or more properly demanded its admittance, into the columns of most, if not all, the newspapers of the day. It deserves a more enduring place of record. He was the regularly officiating minister of what was called the " Church on the Main;" being one of the earliest built of those sacred edifices in the Colony, but he was a minister without a locally resident set of parishioners. The country round about had become depopulated, and the lands had fallen into the hands of a few large proprietors. The church was located some two miles distant from Jamestown on the main-land, (hence its name,) and was distant about five miles from Williamsburg. No trace of it now remains, to mark the spot on which it stood, save the broken bricks and rubbish which strew the ground. That great act of Mr. Jefferson, — the act establishing religious freedom, swept away many an edifice devoted to religion, and Bishop Madison was among the last of the Parsons under the old regime. Pardon this brief departure from the straight line of my narrative. I return to the venerable Prelate and his Church on the Main. As I before remarked, he had but very few local and resident parishioners. His congregation, when he preached, consisted mostly of persons from Williamsburg, who followed the eloquent divine to this secluded spot. He may have been regarded in a similar light with John the Baptist, preaching in the wilderness; for his church was, without a metaphor, " forest embowered," And there did this venerable man deliver and enforce those Divine precepts which are of such vast importance to the family of man. • Rev. Robeet Hunt wag one of the petitioners for the Charter granted by James I. to the London Company, on the 10th of April, 1606 j and on the 19th of December, of that year, we find him embarking for Virginia with the leaders of the infant Colony. He was happily instru- mental of settling a serious difficulty which arose among those who were to compose the Council of the Colony, and which, for a time, seemed likely to prevent the success of the enterprise. Shortly after their arrival at Jamestown, they erected an humble edifice for the worship of God, which, after a few months, was, in common with all the other buildings of the village, burnt to the ground. Mr. Hunts library which, though not large, was to him exceedingly valuable, was also destroyed. In the track of these severe trials followed the pestilence, which raged so fearfully that, between the months of .May and September, one half of the Colonists died. But these great trials only served to bring the graces of this worthy minister into more lively exer- cise ; and it was owing much to his wise, cheerful and encouraging counsels that, in the spring of 1608, he was permitted to see the town rebuilt, and the church restored. Little is known of his history after this period, except that he spent the rest of his days in Virginia. All tradi- tion attributes to him the character of an excellent minister of the Gospel, and a great lover and promoter of peace. JAMES MADISON. 323 Bishop Madison, in the pulpit, was regarded in his day os eminently eloquent; his style was copious and Ciceronian, and his manner strikingly impressive. I know not whether his sermons have ever heen collected and published— a single one has been preserved in my family, delivered in 1803, at the funeral of a beloved sister. It is worthy of his high reputation. His discourses were not so much of a doctrinal as a moral cast. He addressed himself to the moral sense, and enforced the importance of observing the high moral duties. Religion was the fount, and morality the stream, and he followed that stream into the great ocean of Eternity. It is, however, but due to truth to say that the Episcopal Church did not much revive under his Bishopric; it still lay prostrate under the blow which had annihilated the Establishment— its revival was reserved for other auspices. His labours at William and Mary College were unceasing for two- thirds of the year, and it was only the College vacation, which was or could be devoted to his Diocese in personal visits. And yet the light of his example and his correspondence did much to hold together the fragments, and to keep them in readi- ness to obey the plastic touch of his successors. But it was as President of William and Mary, that the chiefest value of his life was exhibited. The hun- dreds who went out into the world to spread around them the light of his teach- ings, the great and exalted names which were given to fame by several of those, who under him became the disciples of Locke and of Sidney, speak more loudly in his praise than any words I can utter or write. Well may his relative and namesake, James Madison, have said of him in the language quoted by you in your letter that " he was one of the most deserving men that ever lived." I could have said no less of one, the memory of whose virtues is indelibly impressed upon my heart and mind — Exemplar vita morumqm. As such I regarded him when living, and as such I cherish his memory, now that he is dead. A marble slab, with a chaste inscription, has been erected to him on the walls of that Chapel, in which his morning prayers were daily offered in the presence of the young men of the College, and his name will be regarded " fami- liar as that of household gods," by all the inmates of that venerable institution, as long as its buildings endure. If the above brief sketch affords you any satisfaction, or at all meets your purpose, I shall be most highly gratified; and with renewed assurances of the highest respect, and best wishes for your health and happiness, I am, dear and Rev. Sir, Truly and faithfully yours, JOHN TYLEK. FROM THE HON. C. S. TODD, MINISTER FKOM THE UNITED STATES TO RUSSIA. Near Shelbtville, Ky., October 9, 1849. My dear Sir : It was my privilege to receive my collegiate education under the Presidency of the Rt. Rev. Bishop Madison, and I retain to this day tfie most respectful and grateful recollections of him. After I left College and was a stu- dent at Law in Litchfield, Conn., I had the honour of his correspondence, in which he manifested toward me the same friendly regard and deep interest in my welfare, which he had uniformly evinced while I sustained to him the relation of a pupil. Bishop Madison possessed many qualities to render his character attractive. With the most gentlemanly manners he combined a bland and genial spirit, a highly cultivated mind, and the power of bringing out his varied stores of know- ledge in the most felicitous manner. He was also a man of enlarged and patri- otic views, and looked beyond mere party and sectional interests to the good of the country at large. His preaching was less distinguished for animation, and 324 EPISCOPALIAN. what might be called power, than for a graceful and finished style both of com- position and of elocution. Many of his discourses also exhibited a profound and philosophical mind; and I am inclined to think his tendencies as a preacher were somewhat in that direction. I remember particularly being deeply impressed with a Funeral Discourse which he delivered over the remains of his ancient friend Dr. Gait, in which the emotions of the man mingled with the hopes of the Christian in a eulogy characterized by some of the finest touches of a sublime eloquence. To give you some idea of the Bishop's kindly spirit, as well as his interest in education, allow me to conclude this very brief communication by an extract from one of his letters, now lying before me, which he addressed to me while I was at Litchfield in 1811 : — " I received both your favours, and can only beg your indulgence for not acknowledging them long before this time. I have several times resolved to do so, but ill health and much occupation, together with the necessity of taking my usual exercise, always defeated my intentions. Let me assure you, however, that I felt a sincere pleasure in your communications, and that few considerations are more grateful to me than those testimonies of esteem and friendship which I occasionally receive from those who have been students in College. " The Law Class this year has been more numerous than usual. A few prom- ise well. Among the other students who also have been rather more numerous than customary, there are several who have distinguished themselves for their real progress in science as well as moral conduct. The Law students, I find, prefer the method which Judge Nelson here pursues, and which is different from that you mention. I should think an advantage would result from the full illus- tration of general principles, by referring to opposite cases. " I hope you do not confine yourself to Law, but take a wide range in Belles Lettres, History, and the best writers on Natural Law. There are some excel- lent natural philosophers most probably in your vicinity. Chemistry and Natu- ral History should form a principal portion of the study of young men of capacity." I regret that I cannot famish you a more full and distinct portrait of this vene- rable man; but I find, when I come to task my memory, that I have little to communicate, after the lapse of so many years, besides the most general impres- sions. As ever, sincerely yours, C. S. TODD. JOHN BUCHANAN, D. D * 1775—1822. John Btjchanan was born near Dumfries, Scotland, in the year 1748. After passing through a regular course at the University of Edinburgh, which conferred on him the degree of Master of Arts, he studied Law with a view to being admitted to the Bar in his native country ; but not being pleased with the profession which his friends had chosen for him, he came to America, and joined his eldest brother, James Buchanan, who was then extensively engaged in mercantile business, in Richmond, Va. It was soon perceived that neither his natural tastes or his early habits fitted him » Kiobmond Enquirer, 1822.— Biahop Meade's Old Chnrchee, Ac— Ch. Eev., 1854. JOHN BUCHANAN. 325 for this kind of life ; and his own inclination, as well as the advice of his brother, being favourable to his studying Divinity, he returned to Great Britain, and received Orders in the Church of England, in 1775. He then came back to Virginia ; but as the War of the Eevolution was commen- cing, he found no immediate stated employment as a minister, and was for some time engaged as a family teacher, — preaching, however, occasionally, as opportunity ofifered. In 1780, he took charge of Lexington Parish, and was the first minister of that parish, after its separation from Amherst. On the 10th of May, 1785, Mr. Buchanan was elected Assistant Minis- ter to the Rev. Mr. Selden,* Rector of St. John's Church, Henries Parish, Va. But, on the 7th of June following, the Vestry, doubtful whether the election at that time was warranted by the powers then vested in them, proceeded to another election, which resulted, like the preceding one, in Mr. Buchanan's being chosen. On the death of Mr. Selden, Mr. Bucha- nan succeeded to the Rectorship. His salary, consisting of little more than the rent of the glebe and perquisites, was entirely inadequate to his support ; but a benevolent and highly respectable individual in Richmond, the Hon. Jaqueline Ambler, Councillor of State during the Revolutionary War, invited him to make his home in his family ; and he did so for ten years, — until the death of his benefactor. At a later period, Mr. Bucha- nan, in consequence of a legacy from his brother, not only had ample means of support, but was able, as he was willing, to dispense liberally to those who were in need. He began to preach at the Capitol, in Richmond, about the year 1790. The degree of Doctor of Divinity seems to have been conferred on Mr. Buchanan some time before the year 1812 ; but by what College does not appear. On the 18th of July, 1812, the Vestry of Dr. Buchanan's church resolved that " the Wardens be instructed to permit the Rev. John D. Blair (Presbyterian) to perform Divine worship in the church on to-mor- row, and on each alternate Sabbath thereafter, and at any other time when the church shall not be occupied by the incumbent, the Rev. Dr. John Buchanan." For a long time, these two worthy men preached alternately in the Capitol to substantially the same audience, and were in not only friendly, but intimate and endearing, relations. The effect of this ecclesi- astical co-partnership was to produce some degree of denominational con- fusion, and to render it somewhat doubtful, in respect to many individuals, whether they were really Episcopalians or Presbyterians. The decisive change which took place on this subject was in consequence of the burning of the Richmond Theatre, in 1812. This occasioned the building of another church, — " the Monumental," to the Rectorship of which the Rev. Richard Channing Moore, of New York, was invited, and upon the duties of which he entered immediately after his Consecration as Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Virginia, in 1814. Dr. Buchanan, being now considerably advanced in life, it became neces- sary that he should have assistance in his ministerial labours. As he was * Biahop Meade states that the Kev. Miles Selden was Minister of Henries Parish in 1758 and in 1776 ; but how long before the former year, or after the latter, does not appear. His first ancestor in this conntry came to Virginia about the jear 1690, and settled in the Northern Heek. 326 EPISCOPALIAN. at this time, quite independent in his worldly circumstances, he was able to resign the emoluments of the church to his Assistant ; and the frequent and necessary absence of the Bishop on his Diocesan Visitations compelled Dr. B. to devote much of his time to the new church. The Bev. David Moore, son of the Bishop of Virginia, was called to be Dr. B.'s Assistant ; but as he did not accept the call, another election was made on the Isfc of May, 1815, and the Bev. William H. Hart of New York was chosen. Mr. Hart accepted the place, and continued to officiate, nominally as Assistant, but really as the Bector of St. John's, during the remainder of Dr. Bucha- nan's life. Dr. Buchanan lived and died a bachelor. He was greatly beloved by his people, and respected by the whole community in which he lived. He died suddenly on the 19th of December, 1822, in the seventy-fourth year of his age. His Funeral Sermon was preached by the Et. Bev. Bishop Moore. FROM MRS. DR. JOHN H. RICE. Near Hampden Sidney College, Va , j May, 1, 1854. My dear Sir: It was my pjivilege to be well acquainted with the Eev. Dr. Buchanan, of Richmond, from the time that I went thither to reside, in 1812, till the close of his life. He called on us almost immediately after our arrival in the city, and welcomed us with a spirit of kindness that seemed to overlook all denominational distinctions, and gave promise of what we afterwards fully real- ized, — the most harmonious and agreeable intercourse. I remember him as being even then a venerable old man, though he lived some ten or twelve years after my acquaintance with him commenced. Dr. Buchanan was, in person, of about the middling stature, — ^perhaps a little inclined to be stout. He had an intelligent Scotch face, of a commanding expres- sion, though it was somewhat marred by a wen, or something that had the appearance of it, upon one of his cheeks. He had polished and courtly manners, indicating that he had always been familiar with the higher circles of society, and this was certainly the case during his residence in Richmond. He had an exuberance of good humour, and was never reluctant either to give or take a joke, as there might be occasion. As he was an Arminian in his religious views, my husband used sometimes to hold discussions with him on some points of difference between them. Once, when they were talking earnestly on the sub- ject of free agency. Dr. Rifce, by way of illustrating his freedom, got up and walked across the room. " Ah," said Dr. Buchanan, jocosely, "you may be free here in a bachelor's study, but I doubt whether you are so at home." On one occasion, when my health had become seriously impaired, it was thought proper that I should try the effect of some of the Virginia Springs; and the old gentleman, on hearing of it, immediately enclosed me a hundred dollars, saying that if it was Mr. Rice's privilege to have the wife, he would at least claim the privilege of doing something to restore her health. In reference to a note of acknowledgment which I wrote him, he afterwards playfully remarked that he would willingly give a hundred dollars at any time to get such a receipt. A person, professing to he a clergyman, came to Richmond from the North, bring- ing with him a letter from Dr. Romeyn of New York, and stating that he had lost his trunk and his money, and had no means of getting back to New York. Dr. Buchanan received the stranger hospitably, and invited him to preach for him ; which he readily consented to do. He then gave him an order upon the treasurer of a charitable association, of which he was President, for twenty dol- JOHN BUCHANAN. 327 lars to enable him to prosecute his homeward journey. The treasurer, on receiving the order, thought he discovered something equivocal in his appear- ance, and at length began to suspect that it was a woman and not a man with whom he was conversing. He noticed particularly some thing unusual in the appearance of tiie whiskers; and as if with a view to rub off something that had lighted upon them, he put up his finger to the person's face, and instantly the whiskers fell, indicating that the poor parson was a bona fide woman. He after- wards exulted over Dr. Buchanan, at his superior discernment in detecting the impostor; but the Doctor replied, — "It only shows your greater familiarity with bad society." Dr. Buchanan had a thorough Scotch education, and a highly cultivated taste. I remember meeting him once at the house of a friend where we were invited to dinner, and he brought with him Allan Ramsay's Gentle Shepherd, with a view to amuse me by reading from it; and when he found that I was familiar with it, he expressed great surprise, — saying very pleasantly that he had not supposed that my husband would allow me to read such a production. As a preacher. Dr. Buchanan would probably have ranked, as far as the tone of doctrine was concerned, with Archbishop Tillotson, or perhaps with the stricter class of "Moderates" in the Church of Scotland. His sermons were always sensible, practical, and well written. He had a good voice for public speaking, and managed it pretty well, though his manner was rather dignified than animated; and yet I think I remember some occasions when he was roused to a considerable degree of fervour. If he was not one of the most popular preachers of his day, his efforts in the pulpit were always highly respectable, and he numbered among his hearers many of the most cultivated minds in Vir- ginia. But the crowning attribute of Dr. Buchanan's character was his benevolence. He had a large property and a large heart; and as he had no family to provide for, he delighted in ministering most liberally to the wants of the poor. By an arrangement, unlike any thing that I know of at the present day, he and the Eev. J. D. Blair, a Presbyterian minister, were accustomed to preach alternately in the Hall of the General Assembly of the State to the same audience, consist- ing partly of Episcopalians, and partly of Presbyterians. As Mr. Blair was in ratlier straitened circumstances. Dr. Buchanan, with characteristic generosity, made over to his as-sociate the whole amount that was contributed for sustaining the ministry by both denominations; and this was only an illustration of the intimate and delightful relations that existed between them. He requested me, whenever I came in contact with suitable objects of charity, to call upon him for pecuniary aid; and I did it frequently, and with perfect freedom, and always found him ready to assist me to any extent that I might desire. The very last interview that I had with him was with reference to an application in behalf of a poor woman who required charitable aid; but I had no opportunity to give him any further account of the case, as I had scarcely administered the desired relief before death had put an end to both his labours and his charities. Mr. Blair, his Presbyterian associate, had, for some time, been declining in health, and had reached a point at which his recovery had become hopeless, and his death was daily expected. Dr. Buchanan, anticipating the event as near at hand, had actually commenced writing his Funeral Sermon; but before he had completed it, he was suddenly arrested by a violent disease, and preceded his friend in his passage into the invisible world. Most affectionately, ANNE S. RICE. 328 EPISCOPALIAN. NATHANIEL FISHER. 1777—1812. FROM THE HON. C. W. UPHAM. Salem, Mass., March, 1, 1858. Dear Sir : In complying with your request to collect the memorials of Mr. Fisher, I find the work already done to my hands, and have but few items to add to the two following authentic and authoritative notices. The first is a sketch of his life and character, by the pen of the Rev. Charles Mason, son of the late eminent lawyer and statesman, the Hon. Jeremiah Mason, a Senator in Congress from New Hampshire. Mr. Mason is at present Rector of Grace Church in Boston, having been previously, for some years, Rector of St. Peter's Church in Salem. The original is on file among the archives of the latter church, and has been kindly copied for your use. " The Rev. Nathaniel Fisher, Rector of St. Peter's Church, Salem, Mass., from February, 1782, to December 20th, 1812, was born in Ded- ham, Mass., July 8, 1742. His father was a respectable farmer of that town, and one of his sisters was the mother of Fisher Ames, whose name adorns the history of our country as one of her greatest statesmen and most eloquent orators, as well as elegant writers. " Mr. Fisher entered Harvard College in 1759, and graduated in 1763, having been associated in his academic studies with several men who attained eminent distinction, among whom may be mentioned Timothy Pickering, Josiah Quincy, Jr., Judge Joshua Upham, of New Brunswick, Dr. John Jefi^ries, Rev. Caleb Grannett, Chief Justice Blowers, of Nova Scotia, and Chief Justice Bliss, of New Brunswick. " Little is known of the pursuits of Mr. Fisher for several years after he left Cambridge ; but soon after the Revolution began, he was in the service of the English Church Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, as a schoolmaster at Granville, near Annapolis, Nova Scotia. In 1777, May 13, he was recommended to that Society by its Corresponding Committee at Halifax, 'as a man of learning and good sense, of unexceptionable character, and worthy of being admitted to Holy Orders, as an Assistant to the Rev. Mr. Wood* of Annapolis.' Mr. Fisher soon crossed the Atlantic, was ordained by the Bishop of London the • Ret. T. Wood, before going to Nova Scotia, was, for aome years, the Society's Missionary in New Jersey. In 1762, he attended, during an illness of several weeks, the Viear General of Quebec, M. Maillard : at his request he read the office for the Visitation of the Sick, the day before his death, and performed over his remains the Funeral Service, according to the ritual of the Church of England. After residing some time at Halifax, he took up his residence, in 1763, at Annapolis, (formerly Port Royal,) whore he remained during the rest of his life dividing his labours between Annapolis and Granville. He immediately applied himself to the study of the Micmac (Indian) language, with no other assistance than he could derive from the papers of M. Maillard, and fully determined to persevere until he should be able to publish a Grammar, a Dictionary, and a translation of the Bible. In 1T.66, he sent home the first volume of his Grammar, with a translation of the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, Ac., and was now able to minister to the Indians in their own language. In 1769, by request of the Governor, he made a missionary tour among the settlements on the St. John's River, New Brunswick, and was received by the Indians with every expression of respect. After a successful ministry of about thirty years, he died at Annapolis, on the Hth of December, 1778. NATHANIEL FISHER. 329 celebrated Dr. Robert Lowth, and was licensed by him, September 25, 1777, as Mr. Wood's Assistant, and early in 1778, his arrival at Annapo. lis was announced to the Society. The death of Mr. Wood occurred the same year, so that the charge of the churches at Annapolis and Granville, — which formed one Mission, probably devolved on Mr. Fisher. " The position thus occupied by him was not an unimportant one. Though Annapolis had declined after the settlement of Halifax, and the establishment of the Provincial Government in the latter place, in 1750, it still retained a considerable population, which rapidly increased, during the American Revolution, by the immigration of Loyalists, many of whom were persons of high intelligence and character. " The services of Mr. Fisher in this Mission proved highly acceptable, and the Governor and Council of the Province were desirous to retain him in it. The gentleman who was first appointed to succeed Mr. Wood, never tooli charge of the church at Annapolis, and Mr. Fisher officiated there more or less steadily, till the close of 1781. He then returned to Massa- chusetts, having landed at Portsmouth, N. H., and was immediately invited to the Rectorship of St. Peter's Church, Salem, which he accepted, and entered upon his duties there on Sunday, February 24th, 1782. According to Mr. Felt, in his Annals of Salem, Mr. Fisher was admitted January 30, 1782, ' a subject of Massachusetts, on condition of taking the oath of fidelity and allegiance to this Commonwealth. As a subject of Great Britain, though born in Dedham, Mass. he had been imprisoned, but was now enlarged.' " Soon after his invitation to Salem, he received overtures from one of the churches in Boston, for a settlement, with a much larger salary, which he rejected with a strong expression of offended honour. " He was married, on April 5, 1782, to Silence Baker, of Dedham, by whom he had three children, — two sons and a daughter. " Plis ministry in Salem extended over a period of thirty years, and closed only with his life. In the early part of it, he took an active part in measures for the organization of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Mas- sachusetts, and the adjacent States, and was held in high respect by the Clergy and Laity. He was the Secretary of the first Convention of the churches of Massachusetts and Rhode Island, held after the Revolution, (in Boston, September 8, 1784,) and was appointed together with the Rev. Mr. Bass, and the Rev. Mr. Parker, — both afterwards Bishops of the Diocese of Massachusetts, a Committee to call a Convention of the churches in those States and New Hampshire, whenever, in their opinion, it should be necessary ' to deliberate upon some plan of maintaining uniformity in Divine worship, and adopting such measures as may tend to the union and prosperity of the Episcopal Churches in the American States.' Such a Convention was called and held in Boston, September 7, 1785, and Mr. Fisher was chosen its Secretary. During its session, an extended revision of the Prayer Book was proposed, (though never actually adopted,) and the Rev. Mr. Bass and the Rev. Mr. Fisher were appointed a Committee to ' form Collects for the case of persons who have lost their friends, for persons sick, and for persons bound to sea.' " In July, 1787, a new church was consecrated at Portland, and on the occasion Mr. Fisher preached the Sermon, which was afterwards published. Vol. V. 42 330 EPISCOPALIAN. " At the Convention of the Churches in Massachusetts, held in Salem in 1790, he was placed upon a Committee ' to frame a plan of an Ecclesiastical Constitution for the government of the Episcopal churches in the Common- wealth, and such other churches as may be admitted, and accede to the same.' This Committee reported a Constitution, which was transmitted to the several churches in Massachusetts, Khode Island, and New Hampshire, and at a Convention assembled in Boston, January 25, 1791, it was unani- mously adopted. In the following May, (24th,) the Churches in the State of Massachusetts were convened to act upon the question whether the Constitution of the Church in the United States, proposed by the General Convention held in Philadelphia, October, 1789, should be adopted. The vote of Mr. Fisher, and of several others, was recorded in the negative. At the same Convention, he was elected a member of the first Standing Committee of the Diocese ; Was appointed to preach the Sermon at the Opening of the next Convention ; and placed upon a Committee to provide for the publication of an edition of the Book of Common Prayer, as recently revised and set forth by the General Convention. " The Diocesan Convention, held May 24, 1796, was one of deep inte- rest, and was the largest which had ever assembled in Massachusetts since the Revolution, and indeed larger than any afterwards held for more than a quarter of a century, comprising the Episcopal Clergy of the State of Massachusetts only. The principal subject to be acted upon was that of the Bishopric, and upon the question ' whether it is expedient, at this time, to come to the election of a Bishop.' Mr. Eisher voted alone in the negative. The Kev. Dr. Bass received the vote of every other member of the Convention, as the first Bishop of the Diocese of Massachusetts. It may here also be observed that he pursued a similar course at the Conven- tion of 1804, at which the Eev. Dr. Parker of Trinity Church, Boston, was chosen the successor of Bishop Bass. His single vote was then again given against the expediency of proceeding to an election, and on the direct ballot, at his urgent request, he was excused from voting. He was, however, placed upon the Committee of Council to the Bishop elect, and chosen a delegate to the General Convention of the Church, to be held in New York in the following autumn. But he was not present at any Dioce- san Convention after this date, though he was appointed to preach the Sermon before that held in 1810. He took no part in the United Conven- tion of the Churches of Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Vermont and Khode Island, assembled May 29th, 1810, at which Bishop Griswold was elected to the Episcopate, though he soon afterwards expressed to the Bishop elect his desire that he would accept the office. At this late period it is not possible to arrive at the reasons which led him to such a marked and decided course of action on those several occasions. There is no evi- dence that it was caused by any personal considerations connected with the office, or those chosen to fill it. Bishop Bass had served the Church in Massachusetts more than forty years, had remained at his post, and ful- filled his duties with firmness and fidelity through the difficult period of the Revolution, and, by common consent, was looked to as in all respects the fittest person for the Episcopate. NATHANIEL FISHER. 331 " Mr. Fisher had been opposed to the Constitution of ths Church, as adopted in the Greneral Convention, probably on account of the power given to the Bishops, acting as a separate House, (which, at the time, was regarded by some as open to great objections,) and perhaps his subsequent course may have been affected by the ground then taken by him. He was a man of strongly marked traits of character, and very decided and fixed in his prejudices, which he took no pains to conceal. " His disapprobation of the act of Bishop Seabury in taking Consecra- tion at the hands of the Scotch Bishops was extreme, and was manifested in a most significant manner when that Bishop was once in Salem. " His demeanour was somewhat stern, but he was a man of generous feelings and habits. In person, he was strongly built, and of a large frame. His constitution was vigorous, and remained firm till his death. This occurred suddenly on Sunday, December 20, 1812, immediately after his return from morning Service. He lived a few months beyond three- score years and ten. On the Sunday previous to his death, he preached upon the uncertainty of human life, from the words, — " How long have I to live ? " " He left a Sermon recently and fully prepared for Christmas day, which came five days after his decease. He always devoted himself, with great diligence, to the work of preparation for the pulpit, and had the fixed habit of writing two sermons every week. A volume of his sermons was pub- lished, several years after his death, in the preface to which it is observed that ' to clearness of apprehension the author joined a sprightly imagina- tion, which was exercised with care and modesty, and contributed equally to illustrate and enliven his sentiments. This, as well as the other facul- ties of his mind, was regulated and enlivened by a devoted study of the ancient classics, which, to the latest period of his life, he read with the ardour of a true scholar.' It may be proper to add, in regard to these sermons, that while they contain earnest and impressive appeals to the heart and conscience, especially those which the author last wrote, — we find in them no clear and distinctive instruction upon the great Orthodox doctrines of the Church. " They convey indeed no positive doubt in regard to any of these doc- trines, but are deficient in such definite statements as would show that the writer firmly and heartily maintained them. It is possible that they may not do entire justice to their author in this respect, and that the prefer- ences of the editor, who is supposed to have been a friend who afterwards joined the ranks of the Unitarian denomination, may have insensibly biased his judgment in the selection." The person to whom Mr. Mason refers as having edited the volume of Mr. Fisher's Sermons was probably the late Joseph Story, one of the Justices of the Supreme Court of the United States. Judge Story was a devoted friend and parishioner of Mr. Fisher, and a warm admirer of his character and preaching. He took an active part in the publication of the volume, and may be regarded as responsible for the editorial selection of the sermons. He is supposed, also, to have been the author of the fol- lowing beautiful discriminating obituary notice, published in the Salem Gazette of December 25th, 1812. 332 EPISCOPALIAlf. " Of the talents and acquirements, the manners and character of Eev. Mr. Fisher, all who knew him cannot but speak with high respect. Nature had given him a vigorous mind, active, enterprising and discriminating. His perceptions were clear and lively, his imagination warm and excursive, his memory copious and exact, and above all, his judgment was distin- guished by a sagacity which it was difficult to mislead, and a promptitude which it was not easy to surprise. He received a liberal education at Harvard University, and there laid the foundation of that classical know- ledge which made him an accomplished American scholar. In the Latin and Greek, he read with fluency, which was the result of an easy taste, rendered more correct and critical by habitual cultivation. To the very close of his life, he manifested a decisive attachment to ancient literature, as the reservoir of elegant and profound learning, and above all, because it reflected the most striking lights upon the history and the principles of Christianity. He studied Theology, not merely as an appendage to his grave and reverential profession, but with a diligence which an awful sense of its importance demanded, and with a fondness which its admirable truths are so well calculated to inspire. He may be pronounced, without hesita- tion, to have been a deep and accurate theologian, well read in the acute distinctions of polemic divinity, and thoroughly possessed of its essential arguments. He was an original and independent examiner of the Sacred Volume, which he may truly be said to have studied with the single view of ascertaining its real doctrines. " After he had determined on Clerical Orders, his situation, for several years, favoured the natural inclination of his mind to search and examine for himself, to try all things, and to hold fast that which was true. In the seclusion of these years, he has been heard to declare that he sought for Divine truths by an elaborate reading of the Scriptures. He had few books about him to divide his attention, and still fewer to teach him the difl"erent doctrines of the sects : he was left, therefore, to form his own opinions, and he took a pleasure in adding that these early opinions, formed by independent study, had been fully confirmed by the more mature inquiries of his manhood and old age. " It was probably to this early habit of self-dependanee that we are to attribute that high tone of thought which characterized Mr. Fisher in all his conduct. In his public devotions he was solemn and impressive ; in his sermons his style was compact and masculine. He sought not to attract so much by the elegance as by the weight and dignity of his compositions. Hence his language possessed an engaging and uniform simplicity, occasion- ally elevated into glowing eloquence and vehemence, but usually like a gentle stream, whose luculence, as it flows, discloses a clear and unsullied bottom. It was difficult at first fully to appreciate all the merit of his public discourses ; they were so well adapted to men and manners, as they are, so just and familiar in the portrait of human excellences and defects, that the mind was insensibly led to the proper conclusion, almost without an effort. He delighted chiefly to dwell on the moral doctrines of Chris- tianity ; and if occasionally he assumed a demonstration of abstract or con- troverted questions, it was only when they lent a new aid to moral truths, or exhibited more fully the wonders of salvation. In developing the attri- NATHANIEL FISHER. 333 butes of the Deity and the character of the Saviour, his pen always assumed preternatural vigour. He communicated to all who heard him the enthu- siasm of his own mind. He poured forth an impetuous eloquence, which, still simple in its grandeur, awed, affected and convinced. No man under- stood human nature better than himself. Hence his moral discourses were neither above nor below the tone of Christian feeling. He exhorted to virtue by awakening the mind to its intrinsic excellence, by a minute sur- vey of the scenes of real life, and by closing with the bright and eternal rewards of the Gospel. This may successfully be done by others ; but Mr. Fisher's mode of surveying his subject was still his own, his thoughts were always just, appropriate and striking, and his pictures drawn with the art- lessness and the felicity of a master. Other preachers are copious, persuasive and profound; but he, above most men, had the talent so nicely to adapt his thoughts and expressions to the occasion, that all understood and fol- lowed him ; his arguments imperceptibly found a ready response in the bosoms of the high and the low, the rich and the poor. More might be said with truth — less could not with justice. " His manners were truly characteristic of his mind, — manly, unaffected and social. Open to friendship and liberal views, he spoke and acted for himself as a man and as a Christian ; and though naturally of an ardent temperament, he aimed at the enlarged charity which is pure and holy, gentle, easy to be entreated, without partiality and without hypocrisy. As a father and husband, he was affectionate and kind ; as a friend, faithful and sincere ; as a minister, sedulous to please, and exact in the perform- ance of the public service ; and as a Christian, firm in his belief, and benevolent in his life. " Towards the close of his life, he had the affliction to follow two of his children to the tomb, who were cut off in the bloom of youth and beauty ; his darling wishes were centered in them, and when the tempest came and swept them away, for a moment he seemed desolate and dismayed ; but his native firmness revived at the prospects of futurity ; and while his own heart was bleeding with sorrow, he was the first to lead the way to the hopes of that better world, where pain, and anguish, and grief shall be for- ever wiped away ; yet the colouring of the discourses of his latter years had borrowed some shades from the gloom which surrounded him, as he saw the approach of their close ; hence he took frequent occasions to dwell on death and immortality ; and one might see a constant efi'ort to shed a cheering light over the past, by anticipations of the bliss of the future. " 'Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord ; for they rest from their labours, and their works follow them.' " I have but one or two items to add to what is contained in the preceding interesting notices. The Essex Register of Wednesday, December 23, 1812, records the death of Mr. Fisher as follows : — " Died on Sunday last, very suddenly, a few minutes after entering his house, on his return from performing Divine service, in the forenoon, Eev. Nathaniel Fisher, A. M., Rector of St. Peter's Church, aged seventy years. His funeral will proceed from the house of Mr. Johonnot, Warren street, to the church, where a sermon will be preached." 334 EPISCOPALIAN. The pall was torne by the Clergy of the town, of various denominations, who severally, in turn, supplied the pulpit of the church, on the succeeding Sundays. The congregation worshipping in St. Peter's Church in Saleta is at pre- sent one of the most flourishing and powerful in the city. It has been favoured eminently in the character and talents of the present Kector, the Eev. G-eorge Leeds, and his immediate predecessors. But, at the time of Mr. Fisher's death, it was in a very feeble condition. The War of 1812, with the commercial misfortunes and restrictions that led the way to it, had operated most disastrously upon the town, and especially upon the Episco- pal Society. The Rev. Daniel Hopkins, D. D., brother of the celebrated Dr. Samuel Hopkins of Newport, E,. I., was, at the time of Mr. Fisher's death, Senior Pastor of the Second Congregational Church in Salem, being seventy-eight years of age. The then Junior Pastor, the Rev. Brown Emerson, D. D., still living, the truly venerable Senior Pastor of that Church, in a discourse delivered on the fiftieth anniversary of his ordina- tion, April 24, 1855, remarks that the " apt and quaint sayings " of Dr. Daniel Hopkins, " are treasured up as a sacred deposit in the memory of his surviving friends." Among the characteristic anecdotes thus treasured up is the fact that when his turn came to officiate in St. Peter's Church, after the death of Mr. Fisher, he preached to the bereaved and disheartened congregation from the text, — "Fear not, little flock." Mr. Fisher's remains were deposited in Captain Barr's tomb, and have since been removed to a brick grave in the Southeast corner of the church- yard. The Records of the First Parish Church in Dedham contain the dates of his baptism, on the 11th of July, 1742, and of his marriage. His widow died, December 5, 1821, aged seventy-one years. The volume of sermons of which Mr. Mason speaks, was published six years after Mr. Fisher's death. They fully justify the language of warm eulogium in the obituary notice, and show that the writer of that notice correctly appreciated the peculiar excellencies of Mr. Fisher's style. It would be difficult to name productions of the kind, which retain to an equal degree the charm of freshness, or which combine to a higher degree sim- plicity, beauty, elegance, fervour and impressiveness. They will be read with pleasure and profit, in all coming time. The character of Mr. Fisher was strongly marked. As a minister, he was diligent, and attentive to his various parochial duties. As a man he was frank, sincere, independent, upright and affectionate. As a scholar, he was exact, classical and highly cultivated. His name well deserves to be held in honoured remembrance. Faithfully yours, C. W. UPHAM. CHARLES HENRY "WHARTON. 335 CHARLES HENRY WHARTON, D. D. 1784—1833. FROM THE BT. REV. GEORGE W. DOANE, D. D.. LL. D. BISHOP OF THE DIOCESE OF NE'VT JERSEY. River Side, November 10, 1857. My dear Dr. Sprague : Though my acquaintance with Dr. Wharton was brief, I cannot refuse your request to furnish you some notices of his life and character ; and I can do it the more easily as it devolved on me to preach his Funeral Sermon, and I had occasion, both then and afterwards, to look somewhat minutely into the history of his rather extraordinary life. Charles Henut Wharton was born in St. Mary's County, in Mary- land, on the 25th of May, 0. S. (answering to our 5th of June,) A. D., 1748. His ancestors were Roman Catholics ; and the family plantation called Notley Hall, from a Governor of that name, was presented to his grandfather by Lord Baltimore. From him it descended to the father, Jesse Wharton ; and at his death, in 1754, became the property of Charles Henry, his elder son. His mother, Ann Bradford, like his father, was descended from a respectable family among the first settlers of the Province. He describes her as " a woman of sweet manners and uncommon beauty ;" and in a little sketch of his first fifteen years, written with such exquisite simplicity, tenderness, and beauty as to occasion deep regret that it extends no farther, he says, — " Many of her maternal precepts and tender caresses are still fresh in my memory, and frequently present her dear image to my mind." When not quite seven years old he was attacked by a furious dog, which had already torn off part of his scalp, when his father, with signal presence of mind and promptitude of action, seizing a loaded gun from behind the door, shot the dog, while the child's head was still in his jaws. As might be reasonably expected, under such parental auspices, his intel- lectual culture was not neglected. So that when it was determined, in 1760, (being then in his twelfth year,) to send him abroad for his educa- tion, he could read and write tolerably well, and was fonder of his book than boys of that age generally are. In the year last named, he was sent to the English Jesuits' College at St. Omer's ; "a Seminary at that time deservedly celebrated for teaching the Greek and Latin languages with great accuracy, and for its strict discipline in all literary and religious duties." His master was the Rev. Edmund Walsh, to whom, he says, " as a most amiable and affectionate man, as well as a good classical scholar, I was attached by the most unlimited confidence, and the warmest senti- ments of gratitude and love, which I shall ever cherish." At the close of two years, the College of St. Omer's was broken up by the expulsion of the Jesuits from France. The teachers and scholars retired to Bruges in Flanders, where they enjoyed the protection of the Austrian government. " It was then," says he, "that I completed my classical education, under the instruction and tuition of my beloved master, Mr. Walsh. Seques- tered from all society beyond the walls of the College, and of course a total 336 EPISCOPALIAN. stranger to every thing inconsistent with the strictest discipline, in acquir- ing classical attainments, and those habits of devotion which were deemed essential to a Roman Catholic youth, I applied myself very diligently to my studies, and became prominent among my associates in a very accurate knowledge of the Latin language, which became nearly as familiar as English ; as we were obliged to converse in it during our ordinary relaxa- tions from our studies." From this period until the date of his ordination there is little known except that he was engaged a part of the time, as I believe, at Liege, in giving mathematical instruction ; of his great proficiency in which science his papers afford evidence. His Letters of Ord.ers bear date in 1772 ; having been admitted in June of that year to the Order of Deacons, and in September to that of Priests. There is then another lapse of informa- tion for more than ten years. At the latter end of the War of the Ameri- can Revolution, he was residing in Worcester, in England, in the capacity of Chaplain to the Roman Catholics of that city, deeply interested on the side of his country and anxious to return. He employed his pen at this time in a poetical epistle to General Washington, with a sketch of his life, which was published in England for the benefit of the American prisoners there. The poem had the rare fortune to be read in manuscript, and altera- tions suggested in it, by the celebrated Sir William Jones. From frequent allusions in the correspondence of an intimate friend residing in London, it is evident that his mind was at this period much agitated on the subject of his religious creed. He returned to this country in 1783, in the first vessel, I have been told, which sailed after the Peace. Within a year after this, in May, 1784, as the venerable Bishop White informed me, he visited Philadelphia for the purpose of publishing his celebrated Letter to the Roman Catholics of the city of Worcester. " This production," says the Bishop, " was perused by me with great pleasure in manuscript, and the sub- ject of it caused much conversation during his stay in our city. The result was my entire conviction that the soundness of his arguments for the change of his religious profession was fully equalled by the sincerity and disinter- estedness which accompanied the transaction." I may here mention a most credible evidence, not only of sincerity and disinterestedness, but of the noblest generosity. On the death of his father, he was the legitimate heir to the paternal estate. Upon taking Orders, he immediately conveyed it to his brother. After the controversy had taken place with Archbishop Carroll, occasioned by the Letter to the Roman Catholics of the city of Worcester, it appeared that the conveyance was not complete. A meeting took place in the most amicable manner, the paper was executed, and an estate of great value, — the whole patrimony of the conveyor, given, the second time, to a younger brother. For the first year after his return to America, Mr. Wharton resided at the paternal mansion ; on leaving which, in July, 1784, the principal resi- dents of the vicinage presented him, unasked and unsolicited, with a most honourable testimonial of his worth as a gentleman, a scholar, a Christian, and a Christian Minister. It is a document of singular excellence in sen- timent, spirit, and expression ; and does high honour to them who freely gave, as well as to him who worthily received, it. CHARLES HENRY WHARTON. 337 The next public notice of him which I find, is his presence at the Gene- ral Convention, held in Philadelphia, in September and October, 1785,— as Rector of Immanuel Chureh, Newcastle, Delaware, — having been pre- sent, as I learned from Bishop White, at the previous meeting, considered as the first General Convention, held in New York, in October, 1784. Between this date and 1792, he was, in some manner, connected with the Swedish Church, at Wilmington ; from which period until 1798, he resided on his estate at Prospect Hill, in the neighbourhood of that town, in feeble health, and probably without a pastoral charge. In the year 1798, his connection with St. Mary's Church, Burlington, was formed, and it con- tinued under circumstances of peace, usefulness, and happiness, rarely equalled in human associations, for more than thirty-five years. The deserved reputation which Dr. Wharton's scholarship had procured him, rendered him an object of great desire with several of our literary institutions. As early as 1785, he was sought for as Principal of the Pro- testant Episcopal Academy of Philadelphia, under the patronage of the Bishop and Clergy ; but declined on account of his health, which had been much enfeebled by a nervous fever. In 1801, he was unanimously elected to the Presidency of Columbia College, in the city of New York, which he accepted, and presided at the Commencement ; but in the course of the year, to the great disappointment of the friends of the College, tendered his resignation. In 1803, he was powerfully urged to become Principal of the College at Beaufort, South Carolina, and Rector of the Parish there, but declined the appointment. The emoluments of office, in both these latter cases, would greatly have exceeded the value of his parochial living. But he loved retirement. He was unwilling to undertake duties which his health might not enable him to discharge. He was reluctant to dissolve the sacred bond which years of endearment and confidence had formed with the friends of his bosom and the people of his charge. And more than all, he had learned, with an Apostle, in whatever state he was, therewith to be content. It was not my good fortune, as I have already intimated, to know Dr. Wharton until within a short time previous to his death. I had indeed known him, by reputation, as a pillar and ornament of the Church — adorn- ing with his life the doctrines which with his voice he proclaimed, and with his pen had so ably advocated. I knew him as among the first in scholar- ship of the Clergy of America, a sound and thoroughly accomplished divine, a practised and successful controversialist, a faithful parish priest, a patriarch of the Diocese in which he lived ; but I had never seen him. When, therefore, in the providence of God, I was called in the autumn of 1832 to the highest office in this Diocese, among the thoughts which were the first to follow the appalling conviction of its responsibilities, was that of the relationship which its acceptance would create between myself and him ; and I confess that in the reflection I was deeply humbled. But scarcely had the evidence of my appointment reached me, when a letter came from him so kind, so encouraging, so expressive of his hearty acqui- escence in the appointment, and his hearty desire for its consummation, as to contribute most materially to the determination of my assent. I saw him first on the occasion of my first Visitation here ; and though for a few Vol. V. 43 338 EPISCOPALIAN. hours only, there was in his deportment a, tender so free and generous of his approbation and confidence, a simplicity so perfectly translucent, and a mixture — so much in keeping with his venerable aspect, his profound acquirements, and his long experience — of the affection expressed for a son, and the deference designed for an official superior, as embarrassed and perplexed me, while it wholly won my heart. Our subsequent intercourse was of the most endearing character, and it left nothing for me to lament, but that, as Providence designed it to be so brief, official absence should have diminished its golden opportjinities. I looked forward with eagerness to the conclusion of my public engagements, that I might sit down with him in his delightful, q,uiet home, and gather wisdom from his words, while I learned piety from his example. , But the Disposer of all things did not gratify my hopes. His health had been for some time failing when I saw him first, and though serene and cheerful, and long, I trusted, to be preserved to us in a green old age, it was but too apparent that the energies of his constitution were impaired, and that the elastic tone and vigour of his spirit were unbent. In the conversations which I had with him, (which, when at home, were daily,) he displayed the deepest interest in the extension of the Church of Christ, and the soundest judgment in his views and estimate of the means by which it was to be promoted. Especially did the General Theological Seminary and the General Missionary Society occupy his thoughts, and it was his desire and determination to accompany me to the annual meeting of the Board of Directors of the last named institution, in May preceding his death. Indisposition, however, prevented. And I had quite given up the long cherished hope of enjoying his presence and counsel at the then approaching Convention of the Diocese. On the morning of the day of meeting, however, to my great joy he arrived in Camden. He took a warm and active part in the proceedings, gave to the measures proposed the most manly and vigorous support, engage^ earnestly in the debates, and appeared in body and mind, in voice and bearing, like one a full half century his junior. It was his last exertion. From that time, he did not appear in public, and indeed scarcely left his house. His disease became gradually seated. The ability to struggle with it was gradually diminished. He reluctantly gave up, for even a single Lord's day, the accustomed duty. He retreated reluctantly to his chamber and to his bed. The best resources of the healing art were applied with the utmost assiduity and skill. The constancy and tenderness of conjugal devotion, and the vigilance and care of relations and friends, supplied whatever love could prompt and earth afford for his recovery and relief. But it was vain. Exhausted nature could not rally. And gently declining day by day, after a few brief struggles, more painful probably to the faithful hearts that watched beside him, than to himself, — he fell sweetly asleep, even as an infant sinks to rest upon his mother's bosom, on Tuesday morning, July 23, 1833 ; having entered nearly two months upon his eighty-sixth year, and having been for more than sixty-one years a minister of Christ — the senior Presbyter — if I mis- take not — ^of the American Protestant Episcopal Church. Throughout his sickness, when not absent from home on official duty, it was my privilege to see him daily ; and a death-bed so serene, so tranquil, -so triumphant, I have never witnessed. It seemed, from the first day to CHAELES HENRY VHAETON. 339 the last, BO far as the issue of life was concerned, as if nature had been wholly set aside by grace. The single sentiment T*hich animated and per- vaded all he said, was still,—" Thy will be done." He was the humblest and most self-abased of Christians. In his long life, there was nothing, he said, on which, for a single moment, he could rest. He had endeavoured to be useful with hiS "poor abilities," as he always termed them, but he had done nothing. What he looked back to with the nearest approach to satisfaction, was his desire and effort to promote peace and harmony among men. In this respect he hoped, if he had done little good, he had at least prevented some harm. But the theme in which he gloried was the Cross. That was the subject of his thoughts, and the burden of bis conversation. He clung naked to it with a child's simplicity and helplessness. " I have been thinking," he said to me one day, " of the wonders of redeeming love. And the more I dwell upon it, the more' I am filled with admiration, that the Almighty Grod, the Maker of every thing in Heaven and earth, my Maker and my Judge, should stoop to earth, and take vile flesh, and bare his bosom, and pour out his blood — for me !" " Oh, my dear friend," he would often say to me, " the Cross, the Cross, is %ll." What should we be without the Cross ? The Lamb of God — He taketh away the sin of the world. The bkod of Jesus Christ — that cleanseth from all sin !" Such were the triumphant testimonies to the truth and power of our religion, which he rendered while he was getting ready to put off the earthly house of this tabernacle. Dr. Wharton was twice married — the second time to Ann, daughter of Chief Justice Kinsey of this State, who survived him. He had no child- ren. As the limits you have prescribed to me will not allow me to go into any minute analysis of Dr. Wharton's character, I will dismiss the subject by just hinting at a few of his more prominent traits. And I may men- tion, first of all, his singular purity. He had neither guile nor the suspi- cion of it. Long as he had lived in the world, he seemed to have suffered little from its contact. There was a delicacy of sentiment and feeling in him, which not only bespoke his own purity of heart, but kept the atmos- phere about him pure. And it was this that gave to all his conversation and conduct an air of the most engaging simplicity. In speech and man- ner he was artless as a child. You read his heart at once. And if, in turn, you did not lay your own open, you gave him all the advantage he wished or would avail himself of, — the advantage of sincerity and candour. He was distinguished also for his humility. With the best education that Europe could afford ; as a divine, second perhaps to none in America ; as a controversialist, unanswered and unanswerable ; he was not only uncon- scious of his distinction, but he would not be made conscious of it. He was also one of the most disinterested of men. The principle of self seemed in him, as nearly as in humanity it can, to have been absorbed and lost. He' lived for the Church first, and then for those whom he loved. And he was full of kindness and charity. He desired good to all men, and, therefore, he ever sought to do them good. He was the kindest hus- band, and the most devoted friend. And his crowning and completing grace was his earnest and consistent piety. The faith by which he tri- 340 EPISCOPALIAN. upiphed in his death, had made him conqueror through life. The Cross in which he gloried had crucified the world unto him, and him unto the world. His piety did not burn vitLfitful and uncertain flame, but with a pure, sustained and steady lustre. The aliment on whieh it fed was the sincere word of Grod. It was enkindled in him by the Holy Spirit. He nourished and cherished it by daily intercourse with Heaven. • As a Preacher of the Gospel, I never had an , opportunity to know Dr. Wharton. His sermons which I have read are of a chastened and persua- sive style of oratory, well arranged, written evidently from the heart, and in, a diction which is like crystal for its purity and clearness. Every where, and on all occasions, he preached Christ and Him crucified. I will only -add that he was a Churchman in heart and in soul ; .while yet, in the exercise of his truly Catholic spirit, he regarded all who name the name of Christ with affectionate interest* It was his deep and strong conviction, again and again expressed, that the entire Church was to be inviolately preserved ; and that the strictest adherence to all its provisions and regulations was the surest path not only of truth and duty, but of charity and peace. • Faithfully your friend, GEORGE W. DOANE. FROM THE HON. HORACE BINNEY. Philadelphia, 14 October, 1856 Dear Sir: I had no such intimacy with the Rev. Dr, Wharton as would enable me to dojustice to his character from my own knowledge; nor did my acquaint- ance with him begin at a period of his life when he exhibited his powers or characteristics in their original force and freshness. I saw him frequently in the latter part of his life, and heard him regularly djiring my summer residence at Burlington; but when I first knew him, he was seventy year's of age, his health was feeble, and though I met him occasionally in the society of the place, and in my own house, I had no opportunity of knowing him to the extent or iii the way which alone would have given me the means of writing a characteristic account of him. Indeed, it is not from materials of that date that he ought to be described. I had a most agreeable impression of his eminently well-bred manners and carriage, — of the quiet tone of his conversation, and of his occasional flashes of gentle humour, with the least possible infusion of satire in them to give them the more point. I thought I discerned in him at all times the influence of the foreign College in which he had received his religious education, in toning down his man- ners and conversation so as to obliterate from them every thing abrupt, or angu- lar, or strikingly salient, — an effect, you may perceive, that interfered with those distinct impressions that are macJe by some men in the course of a very few interviews. When my acquaintance with him commenced, age and feeble health had already impaired his erectness. His height in mid-age must have been, I tliink, five feet, five or six inches. In the advanced age at which I knew him, his head drooped a little, and his person inclined in the same direction for some distance below the shoulder.s. He did not stoop, but he, was a little bent. His form was slight and valetudinary, but withdut emaciation. His eyes were, I think, pale-blue, or gray, his complexion fair, and the anterior part of his rather fine head was bald. He wore powder, and his dress was at all times scrupulously neat and appropriate. I do not recollect a more gentlemanly figure, or a more benevolent CHARLES HENRY "WHARTON. 341 and trust-wortliy countenance. As he used to pass up the aisle, the only aisle, of- the old church, on Sundays, to the chancel at- the Eastern end, in his black gown, powdered hair, and hat in hand, inclining with a gentle bow to the one side and the other, towards the parishioners whom he saw in the pews to receive him, nothing could be more gracious and paternal. I have a deep impression of that kindly habit. The services were read well, — not with a strong voice, but distinctly, nor with much emphasis on any part, but without monotony. His manner of read- ing, whether of the services or the sermon, was not impressive, but it was in a pure tone, that perfectly conveyed and seconded the meaning of what he read. In repeating the prayers, he was devout and self-collected, but not impassionedy Though I constantly attended his church, with all my family, I was not awans that on any occasion 1 heard a sermon from him that seemed to have been writ- ten recently. From the moral topics in some of them, I thought I could infer that they had been written twenty years and more, my own recollection carrying me back to the days of the French Revolution, when such topics, with the deve- lopments he gave them, were more frequently treated than at the then present day. All his sermons were good and instructive, but not frequently drawn from the depths of his learning, either theological or moral. Parts Of them were beautifully written; but it could not be discerned, from his mode of reading them, that he thought one part better than another. All parts of them tended to promote sound doctrine, pure morality, and a kindly Christian temper. I never wearied of his discourses, which, though not long, were neVer short. It was pleasant to listen to truth,s of the Icind he taught, which came recommended by simplicity and sincerity of manner, and were corroborated by such purity of example in the life of the teacher. I may give you an example of Jiis simplicity and naturalness, which you may think a little too light for your work. There was no Presbyterian Church in Burlington until after Dr. Wharton's death. That is my impression. In his time Presbyterians mingled with Churchmen in that simple and primitive temple. Dr. Boudinot's family, for instance, constantly worshipped there; and the Clerk who announced the Psalms and Hymns from a gallery at the Western end of the church, and led the music with a rather wiry and dissonant voice, was a worthy Scotch Presbyterian, named Aikman, a cabinet-maker in the town. We all liked Aikman for his directness and truth. He was as steady in his temper and purpose as a Cove- nanter. One Sunday, when Aikman, from the West gallery, gave out the Psalm before the Ante-communion service. Dr. Wharton rose in the chancel, and said in his naturalquiet tone, — " Mr. Aikman, that is not the Psalm I gave to you." " Yes, but it is. Doctor."— "No, it is not." — "Yes, but it is. Dr. Wharton. It is right. I have it here in your own hand write," — holding up a paper. — " Oh, well, have it your own way, have it your own way. Sing any thing." — You may suppose the smiles. My nephew, Horace Binney Wallace, left behind him manifold writings, not intended for publication, but from which his brother has published a selection, until this morning in two volumes, now three, as I find >y the third which he has just sent to me. They are not connected volumes. In the volume (the second) entitled "Literary CVitictsms"— (Parry and McMillan — Phil. 1856),al page 259, you may find a paper entitled " ji Dinner-party Dialogue." The Dr. Gauden there introduced was, I have no doubt, intended to represent Dr. Wharton. I have no other authority, however, for saying this, than the internal evidence. Mr. Wallace had great esteem for Dr. Wharton, and saw much of him when a youth. The esteem, moreover^ was hereditary. His paternal grand- father was an old time parishioner and friend, and his mother, my sister, knew him intimately, and appreciated him highly. Had she survived to this time,. 342 EPISCOPALIAN. she, of all others, would have been the resource for personal anecdotes. The description of Dr. Wharton's personal appearance, at page 262, is very just. You may obtain something from this paper that will show Dr. Wharton as a converser at a literary table. As to myself, I can go no farther. During the twelve or thirteen years that I knew Dr. W., I passed all my lay days in the active labours of my profession in the city, and saw him only on Sundays, and SBch occasional holidays as I snatched to join my family at Burlington. This may account for my inability to render you better service. I remain, my dear Sir, With the highest respect, Faithfully yours, HORACE BIN NET. COLIN FERGUSON, D. D* 1785—1806. Colin Fekguson was born in Kent County, Md., on the 8th of Decem- ber, 1751. His father, Colin Ferguson, was an emigrant from Scotland, of respectable character, but in moderate worldly circumstances. His mother, whose maiden name was Mary Walker, was a native of the county in which he himself was born. In his early youth he was sent to a country school under the care of a native of Scotland. After some years, the schoolmaster being about to return to Scotland, proposed to take young Ferguson, whom he had found to possess remarkable talents, to Edinburgh, and educate him without expense to his father. The old man accepted his offer, and Colin rejoiced in the opportunity of thus securing the object on which his heart was more intently set than any other. After being, for several years, a student at the University of Edinburgh, he returned to this country a highly accomplished scholar. Whether at this time he had the ministry in view does not appear, but he was engaged as early as 1782, as an instruoter in Kent County School, a flourishing institution at Chestertown. When Washington College (the oldest College in Maryland) was organized, in 1783, he was chosen Pro- fessor of Language, Mathematics, and Natural Philosophy ; and he held this place "until 1793, when he was appointed Principal of the College. In this latter position he continued until 1804, when, the College being deprived of its funds by the Legislature of Maryland, he tendered his resignation, which the Board of Trustees reluctantly accepted. He then retired, to his farm in the vicinity of Georgetown Cross Eoads, where he spent the remainder of his life. He studied Theology under the direction of the Kfev. William Smith, D. D., then Kector of Chester Parish, and was admitted to Deacon's Orders, in Christ Church, Middletown, Conn., August 3d, and to Priest's Orders, August 7th, 1785, by the Kt. llev. Bishop Seabury. On the day of his ordi- nation to the Priesthood, he received a license from the Bishop " to perform • Bishop White's Memoirs of the Protestant Episcopal Church.— Calendar, 1854. — MS. from Dr. P. Wroth. COLIN FERGUSON. 343 the office of a Priest in the Church of Christ, particularly in SU Paul's Par- ish, in Kent County, in the State of Maryland." In this, his only parish, he officiated from his ordination till 1799, and probably a year or two longer. He is known to have preached occasionally as late as 1803. He was honoured with the degree of Master of Arts from Washington College, Md., in 1783, — the year of, its organization; and with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the same institution, in 1787. He w,as an active and influential member of the General Convention of 1789, which framed the Constitution of the Episcopal Church in this country. Dr. Ferguson experienced a paralytic stroke several years before his death, which materially affected his constitution, though it left him in full possession of most of his faculties. It was a renewed attack of this dis- ease, while engaged in morning prayer, that terminated his life in twenty- four hours. He died at his residence in Kent County, on the 10th of March, 1806, in the fifty-fifth year of his age. In 1799, he was married to Eebecca, daughter of John Hyland, of Chestertown, Md., by whom he had two daughters, the elder of whom died at the age of fifteen, the younger, Mrs. Anne E. Taylor, still (1858) FROM PEREGRINE WROTH, M. D. Chestektown, Md., Juae 12, 1858. Dear Sir: I was entered in the preparatory department of Washington Col- lege in 1795; and from 1796 to 1803, was Dr. Ferguson's pupil; so that, for seven years, I had constant opportunities for making observations upon his char- acter. I have also, during my whole life, been familiarly acquainted with many with whom he was in intimate relations, and know well the general estimation in which he was held by his contemporaries. His appearance and manners were dignified and somewhat stately, but there was nothing about him to mark him as a disciple of Chesterfield. His complex- ion inclined considerably to brown; his eye was sparkling, black and expressive; his whole countenance finely intellectual. His hair, originally very black, became much mixed with gray, but to the time of his death he never became the least bald. He was about five feet, eight inches high, legs rather small, and abdomen a little protuberant. He wore breeches and shoes with large silver buckles, as was common with old gentlemen of that day. He walked with a measured step, supported by an oaken cane, silver-headed, and nearly as high as his own shoulders. As a scholar, I may say that Dr. Ferguson was distinguished among the best of his day in this country. His memory seemed to retain every thing that had once gained a lodgment in it. His knowledge of Latin and Greek was most minute and thorough — not only were the best writers in these languages perfectly familiar to bim, but he had a rare appreciation of their beauties both of style and of thought, and often delighted his pupils by bringing out before •hem his treasures of classical learning. When a pupil would apply to him to explain a difficult passage, in Virgil, for instance, he would tell him to read the first line, and would then himself go on, repeating many successive lines, after which he would begin to translate, and as he proceeded would solve any difficulty that might occur. I believe he knew all the Latin poets, usually taught in College, by heart. I remember, on one occasion, Dr. Ferguson challenged my class to translate one of Horace's Odes in heroic measure. When the time arrived for the exhibi- 344 EPISCOPALTAN. tion of the translations, the pieces were all read, and the Dbctor, who had engaged in the contest with all the ardour of youth, acknowledged himself out- done, and awarded the premium to a member of my class. These pieces are now all forgotten, as those of the young men doubtless deserved to be. One of the lines in the victorious translation I still femember — for I shall never forget how the Doctor was amused and convulsed with laughter at the anachronism. The Poem of Horace was in praise of Falernian wine. The line to which I allude was — after speaking of Falernian and its delightful effects — " Better than the best of our modem rum." The introduction of the Roman Poet, as making a comparison of his favourite beverage and the "rum "of the eighteenth century, made our teacher forget Jiis usual dignity, and almost fall out of his chair. But it was not merely in the Classics that he excelled — he was also well nigh unrivalled as a Mathematician; and his Lectures on Mental and Moral Philoso- phy were a^ once elegant and profound. He read and spoke French like a native of France; and I suppose he was familiar with Italian also; for when circum- stances compelled me to leave College, I was about getting a Grammar to begin the study of that language. As Principal of the institution, he was dignified, though respectful, towards (the other members of the Faculty. In the management of his particular depa'rt- ment, he was never boisterous, — too much the custom of that day, — but always firm in the exercise of authority, and gentle to those pupils who were inclined to be dutiful and studious. So judicious and reasonable was he in the adminis- tration of discipline, that even thqse who were the subjects of it were less dis- posed to complain of him for severity than to honour him for the firm and faithful discharge of his duty. On the whole, I can truly say that, in my long life, (I am now seventy-two,) I have never known a finer scholar or a better teacher than Dr. Ferguson. After his first attack of palsy, he walked as well as ever, and his mind was not impaired, — at least so far as his power as a teacher was concerned. But sometimes, when lecturing his classes, and especially on one occasion, when con- ferring diplomas on a graduating class, he was afifected to tears. His ability to command his feelings was entirely gone. As a preacher, I cannot say that he possessed any remarkatle power. His sermons, as specimens of composition, were of a high order, — creditable to him as a scholar and a writer, but, like most of the preaching in the Episcopal Churches in Maryland at that day, they were not strongly marked by an evangelical tone. Perhaps I should not do him injustice, if I were to say that his sermons, in this respect, were "not very unlike those of the celebrated Dr. Hugh Blair. ' Dr. Ferguson sometimes indulged himself in writing, or as he used to say, " manufacturing," poetry; for he did not lay claim to any thing like poetical genius. In the early part of his employment at Washington College, there was a physician at Chestertown, — a certain Dr. W , who was politically hostile to Dr. F., and withal, like most of the political party to which he belonged, hos- tile to the College. In the newspaper, then published in our town, Dr. W. attacked the CoUfege and its Faculty as a knot of Tories, and enemies of " liberty and eqiillity." To this assault Dr. Ferguson replied in ver.se; and when I was a student, I well remember hearing it read by my preceptor. Dr. Browne, a political and social friend of Dr. F., as also his physician. The copy from which Dr. B. read was in manuscript, a\id much vvorn and torn. I regret that I can- not give it to you. But I distinctly remember that it consisted in a description of Death on the Pale Horse, from the Book of Revelation, and a comparison between Dr. W., " mounted on Gray " with the rider of the Pale Horse. T-his little gem of a poem ended the controversy between Dr. Ferguson and his assailant. COLIN FERGUSON. 3^5 I believe that my neighbour, Judge Chambers, and myself, — he, at that time, a student of Law,, and I, of Medicine, are the only survivors of those who attended Dr. Ferguson's funeral. But though so many years have passed since his death, it is easy as it is pleasant to me to recall his image, and I am more than willing to co-operate with you in the effort to perpetuate his memory. Very respectfully yours, P. WROTH. WILLIAM SMITH, D. D. 1785—1821. FROM THE HON. GULIAN 0. VERPLANCK New York, 28th May, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir: The Rev. William Smith, D. D., sometime of Connecticut, who was an acquaintance of my youth, deserves honourable notice in your work, amongst the Episcopal divines of this country, though he was a nativp of Scotland. He is worthy of memory for his influence upon the learning of the Episcopal Clergy, at a period when scholarship was at a low ebb in this country ; for his having left a lasting monument of himself in the American Common Prayer Book, in the Of&oe for the Induction of Ministers, of which he was the sole author or compiler ; and also especially for his works on Church Vocal Music, and their effects, certainly very great on his communion, and probably reaching to a con- siderable extent beyond that sphere. He was a native of Scotland, born about the year 1754, and came to this country, as an ordained jninister, in 1785. Here he spent the rest of his life. He was educated at one of the Scottish Universities — I have a vague impression, perhaps merely a conjecture, that he studied at Aberdeen. But wherever it was that he studied his "humanities," (as the old Scotch phrase is, for classical studies,) he was a good classical scholar, pronouncing the Latin with the broad A, and other approximation to the Continental modes, which have become more familiar to us now than they were in his day on this side of the Atlantic. Shortly after his arrival here, he was settled as minister of Stepney Parish, in the State of Maryland. After remaining there about two years, he went to Rhode Island, and on the 7th of July, 1787, entered upon the duties of Rector of St. Paul's Church, Narragan- sett, which was then in a very depressed state. Here he continued to officiate until the 28th of January, 1790, when he left, having accepted the Rectorship of Trinity Church, Newport. He. was instrumental in organizing the Church in Rhode Island, and preached the Sermon at the first Episcopal Convention held in that State, in November, 1790, which was published. His ministry at Newport continued until the 12th of April, 1797, when he informed the congregation that he had accepted a call from St. Paul's Church in Norwalk, Conn., which was then one of the most considerable Episcopal churches in that State. He remained at Nor- walk until sometime in the year 1800, when, in consequence of some Vol. V. 44 346 EPISCOPALIAN. disagreement with his people, in respect to the permanency of a settle- ment, he resigned his charge, and removed to New York. He opened a Grrammar School in the city, and acquired a high reputation as a teacher ; but in 1802, he was called to the respectable post of Principal of the Episco- pal Academy at Cheshire, and entered' upon his duties there in the spring of that year. This institution, in addition to the ordinary elementary instruc- tion of our Academics, was designed to furnish (and for many years did so) the means of some higher instruction to students intended for the Epis- copal ministry, and to supply in some degree the want then existing of any College or Seminary specially adapted to that object. He, for several years, filled that station, for which, in most respects of scholarship, general information, the power of communicating knowledge and inspiring a taste for learning, he was eminently fitted ; though, in other respects, as probably the art of government, and in cool judgment and prudence, less adapted to usefulness. In 1806, he left Cheshire, and returned to New York, and engaged again in the business of private classical instruction. Relinquish- ing this occupation on account of failing health and advancing age, he went back to Connecticut, where, without being regularly settled in a parish, he ofiiciated in one or two small congregations. He died in New York on the 6th of April, 1821, in the sixty-ninth year of his age. Such is the outline of his life, as I gather it, partly from memory, and partly from a note in Updike's agreeable volume of the " History of the Episcopal Church in Narragansett." Dr. Smith was a man of extensive and diversified learning, of an ardent and fertile mind, a great and ready command of language, a flow of thought, as well extemporaneously and in conversation as on paper. He had too a lively fancy, which often gave an ornate and rhetorical character to his sermons and to his conversation. In spite of his Saxon name, he tad much of the Celtic ardour, such as old Buchanan calls the " perfervidum ingenium Scotorum." To these general qualifications for popularity and usefulness he added deep religious feeling, unquestionable zeal and devotion to his duties, whether in religious or secular instruction, and a frank, kind disposition. Yet, unhappily, he was never successful in either sphere of labour, in any proportion to his ability or acquirements. He was in fact every way want- ing in knowledge of mankind, and in social prudence, so that he reminded me more of the Parson Adams and Dominie Sampson of the great novelist, than any man whom I have known in our practical American life. He was, though an amiable man, yet as I have been told, quick tempered, and his manners wanted the dignity and gravity which could command the res- pect of the young and ignorant. His judgment was not equal to his quick- ness of comprehension, and his opinions and language were often carried to extremes. He was a short, lively and quick motioned man, and his Scotch dialect was very decided. His sermons, one or two of which I have heard, were generally extemporaneous, as to language, full of matter, florid and flowing in diction and animated in delivery. They must always have been heard with interest and instruction by some at least of the more cultivated part of his auditors. Indeed, judging from his printed writings and my WILLIAM SMITH 347 own recollections, his sermons were of the very character, which, joined to physical advantages of voice, manner, and presence, gain a wide spread reputation for many pulpit orators. But though animated, he was not impressive, his voice and delivery were not in any way effective, and his Scotch accent, I have heard said, often rendered him hardly intelligible to part of his congregation. I do not myself recollect any such difficulty as to his accent or pronunciation, but my own ear has been familiar from boy- hood to that Doric dialect of our language. I used to see Dr. Smith at my grandfather's, (Dr. William Samuel John- son,) where, like Dominie Sampson, it was his delight, with the choice of several chambers in a large old-fashioned country house, to have a bed made for him in the library, that he might revel from early dawn among the treasures of a library collected in England in the days of folio and quarto learning. Although the personal drawbacks, just referred to, were in the way of Dr. Smith's attaining that popular reputation and social position which his ability and acquirements would have otherwise gained for him, his talent was not rendered useless or unprofitable, but brought forth much and last- ing fruit. He doubtless contributed a good deal to raise the standard of scholarship within his sphere of action, which was not a narrow one. His stores of learning were always at the service of any one who wanted their aid, and amongst the Episcopal Clergy of Connecticut in his day, who were a worthy, painstaking and efficient body of men, but most of them not highly educated, his learning and quick mind were constantly put in requisition, sometimes for individual, sometimes for public, use. His preparation qf one of the special Offices of the American Episcopal Church is a striking example of this, and deserves commemoration. The Common Prayer had been revised and set forth by the Greneral Convention, without any form of an Office for the Induction or Institution of Ministers on entering on the duties of the church or parish to which they were called. This was thought to be a serious deficiency by the Diocesan Convention of Connecticut, and they requested Dr. Smith to prepare a form of service. This was prepared by him alone : it was of course in part compiled or trans- lated from materials of acknowledged authority, but it still bears decided marks of his style and cast of thought and opinion. And as a whole, the service is substantially an original composition, there being no similar one in the Church of England, where the Institution and Induction are distinct legal and canonical forms, as signing the articles, taking legal possession of the church edifice, &c., unaccompanied by any special religious service. That prepared by Dr. Smith, and now used in this country, is remarkably appropriate, solemn and impressive. This form was approved by the State Convention, and recommended to the General Convention, by which it was approved in 1804, and again set forth, with some slight alteration, in 1808. Dr. Smith wrote a good deal for the press on various subjects — amongst others was a controversy with Dr. Blatchford of Bridgeport, on the ques- tion of Episcopacy. I have never seen it, but whatever were the merits of the disputants, I am certain that, much as the subject has been dis- cussed. Dr. Smith's part of it was not commonplace, and that he found something new to say in his own peculiar manner. 318 EPISCOPALIAN. But his most remarkable and characteristic performance is his book on Church Music, Chanting, and Metrical Psalmody. It is entitled " The Reasonableness of setting forth the Praises of God, according to the use of the Primitive Church with Historical Views of Metre Psalmody." It was published in a duodecimo of about three hundred pages, New York, 1814, by T. and J. Swords, the estimable printers and publishers who were then, for half a century, the chief publishers of the Episcopal Church in this country, and to whose accurate press we also owe many of the most important medical and scientific publications of that period. Dr. Smith's little volume is now quite rare, and may soon become an American biblio- graphical curiosity. This book, though full of curious learning and tech- nical knowledge of Music, is written in a very popular style, always per- spicuous and entertaining, sometimes sprightly and sometimes earnest, animated and rhetorical. There are occasional passages of florid eloquence, such as, in the mouth of a good speaker, would be very effective in a ser- mon or popular lecture. His main object is to prove that the prose chant, by its simplicity, dignity, and expression, is the true and only proper musi- cal vehicle of scriptural psalmody, or of other passages of prayer, or prayer from Sclripture, introduced and used as such in our public worship. For tla.& ancient chants, and in different ages of the Christian Church, he almost claims an inspired origin, tracing them back to the Hebrew Psalter and the Temple Worship. In the course of these arguments, he ranges familiarly from discussions on the Hebrew metres and classical prosody to the literature and practice of modern music, interspersing here and there a curious and ingenious, though probably over-refined, criticism on words or phrases of the Greek Testament, involving ideas of vocal music, together with much other singular and interesting matter. Throughout he has the rare merit of making the whole of this mass of curious scholarship and musical technicalities, quite interesting, and almost quite perspicuous even to the unlearned or 'the unmusical reader. The power over the reader's attention arises in great part from his ingenious and instructive matter, and the intense earnestness with which the writer urges his opinions ;' in part also from a certain singularity, and the entertaining manner in which he pushes his opinions to the boldest extreme. Not content with amply vindi- cating the power and merit of the prose chant, he denounces with unmiti- gated hostility all metrical and rhyming psalmody, and its metre tunes, specially including among them the psalmody of Tate and Brady, and others used in his own Church. He maintains that whilst the chant, con- veying the literal and unadulterated sense of inspired Scripture, has the deepest impressiveness and devotional effect, rhyming- translations are of necessity presumptuous and irreverent, diluting and even adulterating the pure sense of the Word, and besides rarely fail of being sometimes mean, or quaint, or trifling. He says that " there is no Divine promise to bless the use of Holy Scripture in any other form than that of the original, or of vernacular translations, but that, with measured feet and rhyming cadences, &c., metrified Scriptures may tickle the ear, but are incapable of meliorating the heart and affections." He considers that Scripture does not authorize " the versifying of any part of the Divine contents, or the assimilating the songs of Zion to those of the world, or even i\i^ fitting of "WILLIAM SMITH. 349 the Psalms of David to the tunes used in the Churches." Yet he does not extend this proscription to the use in public worship of hymns of avowedly human composition, " provided," says he, " they arc devout poetry, intelli- gibly expressed, and in harmony with ' the faith once given to the saints.' " In this spirit he commends the Methodist Collection, but bitterly denounces Pope's parody (as he terms it) of the Lord's Prayer, which is found in some collections. In short, this little volume, with its various knowledge, its popular and glowing style, and its very oddities, seems to me a book, that,, if it were now first published, could not fail of making a popular sensation, whether it made converts to its opinion or not. In its day, it had doubtless some eifect in bringing chanting into more general use and favour, but its sale was limited. Dr. Smith was not merely a theoretical musician. I have understood that he was no mean vocal performer, that he built organs, and that he compiled and published a volume of chants for public worship. I trust that this imperfect sketch is sufficient to show that Dr. Smith, in spite of eccentricities and imperfections of character, was a man of worth, talent, and varied acquirement, whose memory should not be suffered to be wholly lost. I cannot do for it, by any means, all that it deserves, and I can only say, in the words of a language and a poet which he loved — " His saltern accumulem donis et ftingar in ani " Munere." I am very truly yours. G. C. YERPLANCK. PHILO SHELTON. 1785—1825. FROM THE REV. "WILLIAM SHELTON, D. D., KECTOE or ST. PAUL's CHURCH, BCrFALO, N. Y. BuFFAio, November 18, 1857. My dear Sir : Instead of complying with the letter of your request by writing for you a sketch of my venerated father, I would gladly put in requisition the services of some other person, whose judgment might not be suspected of having received a hue from filial affection. But on looking around, I find that the last of the generation of my father's contemporaries are gone ; and I cannot think of a single person who would be able to render such a testimony concerning him as your request contemplates. Under these circumstances, I have no alternative but to undertake the delicate task of speaking of my own father : and I can at least give you the material facts of his history, however my pen may falter in an attempt to delineate his character. Philo Shelton was born at Kipton, (now Huntington,) Conn., on the 6th of May, 1754. He was a descendant, in the third generation, from Daniel Shelton, who settled in that township in 1680, and purchased an extensive tract of land, a portion of which is still owned and occupied by his descendants. It is believed that he was the first of the family in this 350 EPISCOPALIAN. country, who received a collegiate education, or entered professional life. He graduated at Yale College in 1775, when he had just reached the age of twentyone ; and immediately after he returned to his native place, deter- mined to devote himself to the ministry in the Episcopal Church, his family^ having always belonged to that Communion. If my memory serves me, he prosecuted his theological studies under the Rev. Mr. Scovill,* of Waterbury, and was for several years a lay reader, and during a part of the time, waiting for the Consecration of Dr. Seabury, from whom he expected to obtain Holy Orders. On the 24th of February, 1785, a call was made out for my father from three several parishes in the township of Eairfield, — namely, Fairfield, North Fairfield, and Stratfield, with an understanding that his services in each place should be proportioned to the number of members belonging to the respective churches. Until he should be in Orders they agreed to pay him twenty-eight shillings,- lawful money, for each day that he should officiate; and after that time he was to receive "for his maintenance one hundred pounds, lawful silver money, together with the use and improve- ment of a piece of land lying in Fairfield, at a place called the Round Hill, containing about eight acres." He accepted the call, and his salary always remained the same. He was ordained Deacon on the 3d of August, and Priest on the 16th of September, 1785. As this was the first, so it was the only, scene of my father's ministerial labours. He had the pleasure to see his parishes gradually increase, and that of Stratfield grew into the borough of Bridgeport, in which a commo- dious church edifice was in due time built, and many of the inhabitants attained to a high degree of worldly prosperity. His course was an even and noiseless one ; for though he was always occupied in his appropriate work, and laboured with great efficiency withal, yet his influence for the most part operated silently, and was often felt most where he was least thought of. Never seeking promotion to public places, he was yet ever ready to meet whatever public claims were made upon him. He was some- times a delegate to the General Convention, and always a member of the Standing Committee of the Diocese. He was uniformly disposed to keep aloof from the strife of politics. In his youth his sympathies, in common with those of his brethren generally, were with the Mother Country ; and • The Rev. James Scotill was a native of Waterbury, Conn., waa graduated at Tale College In 17S7, and received the degree of Master of Arts from King's (Columbia) College in 1761. In 1759 he became the Missionary of the Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts, in his native town. In the early part of his ministry, he officiated half of the time at Waterbury, and divided the other half between New Cambridge (now Bristol) and Northbury (now Plymouth). In 1764 or 66, a now church was built at Westbury, (now Watertown,) in consequence of which Mr. Soovill's services were in part withdrawn from New Cambridge and Northbury, and bestowed upon the new congregation. In 1771, such had been the increase of his parishes that it was unanimously agreed to call another clergyman; and, accord- ingly, Mr. Scovill gave up Now Cambridge and Northbury to a successor, and confined his ser- vices to Waterbury and Westbury. AVhen the War of the K evolution came on, though Mr. Scovill's sympathies were with the mother country, he behaved with so much prudence aud moderation that he escaped every thing like personal indignity. At the close of the War, he received notice from the Venerable Society, that they could not, in consistency with their char- tor, any longer continue salaries to Missionaries in this country, and at the same time an offer of a handsome afldition to his income, provided he would remove to the Province of New Brunswick. Mr. S. wns reluctant to leave this first field of his labours, and offered to remain, provided the salary whidh he had previously received could be continued to him. But as that offer was rejected, and he had a family to provide for, he felt constrained to remove to New Brunswick ; though, for the first three years, he spent his summers only with his new parish, and his winters in Waterbury, officiating as usual. He died in the year 1809. PHILO SIIELTON. 351 this circumstance no doubt contributed to keep him out of the pale of political interests in subsequent life. And yet when the Episcopal Church in Connecticut petitioned the Legislature in vain, as she did, for a series of years, for a Charter to a College, he, with others of his brethren, pro- posed a union with a political party, then in a minority, to secure what he regarded a just right. And the first fruit of this Union was the Charter of Trinity College, Hartford. He was one of a small number of clergy- men who decided on this measure, and were instrumental of carrying it into effect ; and it resulted in a change in the politics of the State which has never yet been reversed. His latter days were embittered by severe trials, — such as put his con- fidence in the providence of God to a severe test, but he sustained himself under them in the dignity of Christian resignation, calmly waiting all the days of his appointed time till his change should come. He entered into his rest on the 22d of February, 1825, aged seventy years. He was buried under the chancel of the old -church at Fairfield, which he had served for forty years. The congregation erected a handsome monument to his mem- ory, which, however, was afterwards destroyed, ,with the building that con- tained it, by fire. His remains were then removed and placed beside those of his venerable and sainted wife, who had been his best counsellor for nearly half a century. A monumental marble marks ^he place of his grave, and there is another in the wall of the church at Bridgeport, — both of them, bearing an affectionate testimony to his Christian worth and min- isterial fidelity. My father, I may safely say, was distinguished for simplicity, integrity, and an honest and earnest devotion to the interests of pure and undefiled religion. He was both by education and conviction a thorough Episco- palian. His Theology was strictly in accordance with the Book of Common Prayer, as he believed it was legitimately interpreted, and he was decidedly averse to the peculiar dogmas of Calvinism. He believed in the Divinely constituted Church ; believed the Church in America to be a daughter of the Church in England ; believed in the unbroken succession of that Church through her Bishops from the Apostles' days ; believed in the spirit- ual efficacy of the Sacraments, and in the Divinity of Christ, by whose sacrifice the sins of men were atoned . for. These and other kindred doc- trines he taught as essential to the well-being of the Christian Keligion. As his heart was firmly set upon the great objects of the ministry, so he was ever intent upon their accomplishment, as well in private as in public. He mingled with his people with a kindly, affectionate, and yet dig- nified, freedom, always endeavouring to render his intercourse with them in some way subservient to their higher interests ; and his fidelity was met with corresponding testimonies of regard and approbation. They not only revered him as a minister, but looked up to him with theaffectionate confi- dence due to a tried and devoted friend. Though he had only a moderate income, he was given to hospitality, and had always a cordial welcome ready for any brother minister or other friend who might call upon him. Of the neighbouring ministers with whom he was in the most intimate relations, I may mention the Kev. Ashbel Baldwin, then of Stratford ; and as you intimate a wish that I should say something 352 EPISCOPALIAN. concerning him, I cheerfully subjoin the following facts and recollections, though you will bear in mind that the latter are those of one who was but just coming upon the stage, as he was passing off. AsHBEL Baldwin, son of Isaac Baldwin, Esq., was born at Litchfield, March 7, 1757, and was graduated at Yale College in 1776. Soon after leaving College, he received an appointment in the Continental army which he held for some time, and which proved of great importance to him in his latter years in securing to him a pension, when he had little, if any, other means of subsistence. He was married to Clarissa, eldest daughter of Mr. Samuel Johnson of Guilford, and grand-niece of the Kev. Dr: John- son, of Stratford. He was ordained Deacon, August 3, and Priest, Sep- tember 18, 1785, by Bishop Seabury, and was immediately called to the Rectorship of St. Michael's Church in his native placet In 1793, he became the Eector of Christ Church, Stratford, and remained there until 1824. On leaving Stratford, he officiated at Wallingford seve- ral years, and for a short time at Meriden, North Haven, and Oxford, until 1832, when he became disabled by age for any active duty. He died at Rochester, N. Y., in 1846, in the eighty-ninth year of his age. I remember that his voice was very clear and loud, and it seemed the louder, coming as it did from one who was considerably under size. He walked haltingly^, in consequence of one leg being shorter than the other. He abounded. in anecdotes, and he evidently had a great relish for them in the conversation of other people. His kind and affable manners and social habits rendered him a welcome guest at the tables of his more wealthy parishioners, and he had the power of accommodating himself with equal facility to those in the opposite extremes of society. Mr. Baldwin was long a member of the Standing Committee of the Dio- cese, was delegate to the General Convention, Secretary of the Diocesan Convention for many years, and several times Secretary of the General Convention. His uncommon self-possession and promptness in giving expression to his opinions, gave him great advantage in a deliberative assem- bly over many of his brethren who were not inferior to him in good judg- ment or in general ability. But these venerable men have passed away, and scarcely any memorial of them now remains, except as the results of their labours have been silently wrought into the general structure of society. They did good ser- vice for the Church while they -lived, and some of the institutions whose benefits we enjoy, especially Trinity College, are the fruits of their enlight- ened Christian public spirit. Let the men of the present generation, as they have superior advantages, fulfil their mission, if they can, better than those who have preceded them ; but let the time never come when our earnest, self-sacrificing and worthy fathers shall not be held in grateful and cherished remembrance. I am very sincerely And truly your friend, WILLIAM SHELTON. JOSEPH GEOVE JOHN BEND. 353 JOSEPH GROVE JOHN BEND, D. D. 1787—1812. FROM THE REV. ETHAN ALLEN, D. D. Baltimore, December 8, 1857. My dear Sir : The short notice which I am about to furnish you of the Eev. Dr. Bend, is derived partly from St. Paul's Records and his own let- ters, but mostly from Hugh Davy Evans, LL. D., who was one of the young men under his ministry, and well remembers him. I ajjplied to him for some reminiscences of his old pastor, which he most cheerfully furnished, assuring me of the pleasure it gave him, — having derived great and lasting benefits from his ministry. He deems him one who is well entitled to a place in your invaluable work. Joseph Grove John Bend was born in the city of New York, about the year 1762. Whether his parents were then residents, or only visitors, in that city. I have not been able to ascertain. Afterwards, however, they resided on the Island of Barbadoes. There Joseph, their only son, received an excellent commercial education, as well as a good classical one, and was, for some time, in a counting house. He was a superior book-keeper and accountant. And both his parish and the Diocese of Maryland subse- quently received great advantage from the habits of regularity and system connected with those acquirements. It is not known at what time he returned to this country, or what cir- cumstances led him to cast in his lot with the ministry of the American Church. But in July, 1787, at the first ordination ever held in the Diocese of New York, he was ordained Deacon, by Bishop Provoost, at the same time with Mr. Richard Channing Moore, subsequently Bishop of Virginia. On the 3d of December following his ordination, he was elected Assis- tant Minister of the United Churches of Christ Church and St. Peter's, Philadelphia, of which Bishop White was then Rector. In 1789, young as he then was, he was appointed one of the delegates of the Diocese of Pennsylvania to the General Convention of the Episcopal Church, during which was completed its independent organization in the United States. On the 17th of June, 1791, Mr. Bend was elected the Rector of St.. Paul's Church, in Baltimore. He accepted the place; and the Vestry at Philadelphia, in receiving and accepting his resignation, rendered a high, testimony to his character and services, while in their connection ; in which also the Rector cordially concurred ; and both united in expressing their kindest wishes for his future prosperity. He was the first Rector of St. Paul's Church, who had received ordination in this country. On the day after his election, he took his seat in the Diocesan Convention, then in ses- sion, and was made a member of the Standing Committee — a fact which shows somewhat the appreciation of his merits by that body. Such was the success of his ministry that, in 1796, a second church was completed under his charge, — namely, Christ Church, and an Associate Rector appointed. In 1800, an institution for the maintenance and edu- VoL. V. 45 354 EPISCOPALIAN. cation of poor female children was established in his parish, which still exists. In 1800, Mr. Bend received the honorary degree of Doctor of Divinity. In the following year, he was called to consign to the grave his wife, who left him with two sons and one daughter, none of whom are now living. She was a native of New Jersey, and connected with several distinguished families there. Five years after, he married Mrs. Claypole, whose maiden name was Polli. She survived him many years, but left no children. In 1802, St. Peter's Church was built, and had its own Rector ; and in 1808, Trinity Church ; and yet in 1811, in the first recorded Report of his parish to the Convention, Dr. Bend states the number of adults of his con- gregation to be 1015, and communicants 165, being more than double the number which he found at his first coming here. Two new organs, a chime of bells, and two new burying-grounds had been purchased, and an addi- tional parsonage and charity school-house had been erected. About this time, Dr. Bend, with some others, formed a Society for pro- moting Vaccination generally, and was also very earnestly and industriously engaged in the Book Society of the Diocese, which he had been mainly instrumental in getting up. He was also one of the most active founders of the Baltimore Library, and Baltimore General Dispensary, which still exist. He died September 13, 1812, in the fiftieth year of his age. Over his grave the Vestry placed an imposing monument, at an expense of three hundred and fifty dollars. The estimation in which Dr. Bend was held in the Diocese is shown by his being always a member of the Standing Committee ; always a delegate to the General Convention ; always the Secretary of the Diocesan Conven- tion ; always a member of its most important Committees — I say always, for the exceptions are too few to notice ; and he was far more than any other, the confidential adviser of his Bishop. The Diocese of Maryland indeed owes a debt to his memory, which should secure to his name a per- petual remembrance. In his family — he taught his children himself, devoting to their instruc- tion especially the time employed in making his daily teilet. During his life time, they never went to a school. He was an eminently punctual and economical administrator of both time and money ; though he never spared either in the service of the Church, of the poor, or of a friend. One of his family rules was that there should be a pot of soup made every day, particularly in the winter ; and after being partaken of by the members of his family, the remainder should be distributed to the poor. In his parish he was indefatigable. He kept a register containing the names of all the members of his congregation, and visited each in turn, making a certain number of visits every day. For that period, he was remarkable for the number of his week-day public services. His theological opinions were probably not very different from those of his friend Bishop White, though the exclusive claims of his Church were more decidedly afiirmed by him. Indeed he is said to have been the leader of .the then High Church party, both in the Diocese and General Convention. JOSEPH GROVE JOHN BEND. 3gg He published two Funeral Sermons, and his Sermon at his Inauguration as Rector of St. Paul's ; and these are the only publications of his known to exist. But of his autograph letters to Bishops Claggett, Kemp, and others, in his beautiful business-like style of penmanship there exist hun- dreds in the archives of the Diocese, showing, among other things, his industry and interest as Treasurer of the Diocese, and Visiter of the Dis- trict committed to his care. Be pleased to accept my sincere regards. And believe me yours, ETHAN ALLEN. SLATOR CLAY. 1787—1821. FROM THE REV. JEHU C. CLAY, D. D. Philadelphia, November 17, 1857. My dear Sir : In compliance with your request, I send you the following sketch of the life and character of my venerated father. SlatoB Clat, a son of Slator and Ann Clay, was born in Newcastle, De., October 1, 1754. His mother was a daughter of Jehu Curtis, who held the several offices of Speaker of the Assembly in Delaware, Judge of the Supreme Court, and Treasurer and Trustee of the Loan Office, and whose remains lie in the church-yard at Newcastle, where he resided, with an inscription on the stone that covers them, written by Dr. Franklin. When quite a young man, he studied the profession of the Law ; but soon after he was admitted to practice, — about the close of 1779 or the beginning of 1780, — he was induced by the Captain of a vessel, who was his friend, to accompany him to the West Indies on a voyage which he expected would be of but short duration. But, at the time the voyage was taken, the Revolutionary war was in progress, and the vessel in which they sailed was captured by a British privateer, and my father taken to the Island of Antigua, where he was put on shore with but one piece of money in his pocket. Soon, however, an opportunity offered for his taking pas- sage in a vessel for New York, at that time in possession of the British. After leaving the Island, one of the crew, an Italian, proposed to my father and some others to unite in seizing and taking possession of the ves- sel. My father secretly informed the Captain of what was in contempla- tion, and the ringleader, and I think some few others, who were suspected of favouring the design, were at once arrested and placed in close confine- ment. The vessel, however, had not been long at sea before she was taken by an American privateer. The Italian had threatened my father that if they should be taken by an American vessel, and he be thus liberated, his first act should be to take his life. This my father supposed he would now do ; and sitting on the deck, when the Americans, who had now charge of the vessel, released the prisoners, the Italian rushed forward, with an uplifted deadly weapon, with the apparent intention of fulfilling his avowed 356 EPISCOPALIAN. horrible purpose. But he seemed not to have the power to strike, and in a few moments withdrew his arm. This man became afterwards so changed in his feelings towards my father, as to ask him to take charge of his trunk until he should be able to send for it. Soon after the vessel became a prize to the Americans, and when off Cape Hatteras, a severe storm came on, and she was driven towards that dangerous coast. The waves were breaking over the rocks directly ahead of the vessel, and a man was standing with an axe to cut away the mast as soon as she should strike, when, in an jnstant, while all were expecting to be engulfed by the waves, the wind shifted, and they were driven out to sea. But the vessel did not escape. She was wrecked on the rocks of Bermuda, where my father landed in safety. As there was little prospect of his being able soon to get away from the Island, he opened a school, and for six years was engaged there as a teacher of youth. The events of his late voyage had produced in his mind impressions of seriousness, and, becoming acquainted on the Island with an excellent Presbyterian clergyman, (the late Dr. Muir of Alexandria,) he revealed to him freely the state of his mind, and was thus led onward in the path which had already opened to his view. It was not long before these impressions ripened into a desire to devote himself to the Lord in the work of the ministry. He made many warm and attached friends dur- ing his residence among the people of Bermuda. They encouraged him in his wish to enter the ministry, and proposed that he should go and receive Orders at the hands of the Bishop of London, and then return and settle among them as their pastor. The necessary documents for the accomplish- ment of this purpose were prepared, and every thing was ready for his departure, when he heard that measures were in progress for the Conse- cration of Dr. White of Philadelphia, as Bishop of Pennsylvania; and, preferring to spend his life in his native land to remaining in Bermuda, — much as he admired and loved the people there, he took passage for Phila- delphia, where he arrived sometime in the year 1786. On the 3d of December of that year, he was married, by the Rev. Dr. Collin of Phila- > delphia, to Mrs. Hannah Hughes, a widow, by whom he had four children, — a daughter and three sons. On the 23d of December, 1787, he was ordained, in Christ Church, Philadelphia, to the Order of Deacons, by Bishop White, who, the beginning of this year, had been consecrated in England, and on the 17th of February following, was, in St. Peter's Church, ordained to the Order of Priests. My father at once took up his residence in Upper Merion, near Norris- town, Montgomery County, Pa., fifteen miles from Philadelphia, where he commenced his ministerial labours, as Rector of St. James' Church, Per- kiomen, erected in 1721, in the same county; St. Peter's, Great Valley, Chester County ; and St. David's, Radnor, built in 1713 ; and also as Assistant Minister of Christ Church, Upper Merion, — the last mentioned church being one of the three Swedish churches under the Rectorship of the Rev. Dr. Collin of Philadelphia. The scarcity of Episcopal Clergymen, at the time my father was ordained, was the reason why he felt himself called upon to divide so much his labours, and officiate at so many different churches. SLATOR CLAY. 357 In July, 1799, he removed from Upper Merion to his church at Per- kiomen, where was a parsonage recently built for him, and a glebe of some thirty acres, his labours being still distributed as before, except that he officiated less frequently at Radnor, on account of the increased distance, and gave some portion of his time to St. Thomas' Church, Whitemarsh. While my father was labouring in the churches above mentioned, or about the year 1810, he received a call to Alexandria in Virginia. But he preferred the retirement and quiet of the country to the busy scenes of a, large town or city, and therefore declined the call. Where he began his liiinlsterial labours, there he continued them up to the time of his death, which took place on the 25th of September, 1821. There are few clergymen who have been held in more honour and esteem by their congregations than my father. His earnest and fervent piety no one doubted : for it shone forth in his whole walk and conversation. All who listened to his preaching, — and his churches, whenever the weather permitted, were always crowded, — felt that they were receiving instruction from one whose life was an exemplification of the truths which he taught. He embraced in all their fulness the doctrines of the Cross, and the great subject of all his preaching was " Jesus Christ and Him crucified." He had the most lowly conceptions of human sufficiency in the work of salva- tion, and the most exalted conceptions of the sufficiency of Christ. In the pulpit his action was plain and natural, his voice agreeable, and his whole manner earnest and impressive. The illness which terminated in his death was of but a few days' continuance, and at the age of sixty-seven years he closed a life of faith on earth, in a sure hope of entering on a life of glory in eternity. In stature my father was about five feet, eight inches, of a slender and delicate frame, with eyes of a hazel colour, and a benign and interesting countenance. In manners he was reserved towards strangers, but affable and pleasant in the presence of his friends. When a young man, he was proud and high tempered ; but, under the influence of God's renewing grace, he became as humble as a child, and in his disposition most gentle and amiable. My father had an elder brother, Robert, who was a clergyman of the Episcopal Church. He was born, October 18, 1749 ; was in early life connected with an eminent mercantile house in this city; was ordained by Bishop White about the year 1787 ; was for thirty-six years Rector of the Church at Newcastle ; and died in December, 1831. He was a fine reader of the Church Service, and sustained an unblemished reputation. He was never married. Very faithfully your friend and brother, J. C. CLAY. 358 EPISCOPALIAN. TILLOTSON BRONSON, D. D * 1787—1826. TiLLOTSON Beonson, the son of Amos and Armar (Blakeslee) Bronson, was born at Plymoutli, Conn., in the year 1762. His father was a respect- able farmer, a man of vigorous mind, well acquainted with the doctrines of the Bible, and an exemplary member of the Episcopal Church. His earlier years were spent upon his father's farm ; but even then his taste for science began to be developed, and his leisure moments were faithfully devoted to the perusal of the few books which casually came in his way. In the autumn of 1780, he commenced the study of the languages under the instruction of the Bev. John Trumbull, t the Congregational minister of Watertown, with a view to entering College. During the time that he was prosecuting his preparatory studies, he taught a school at Waterbury, where he made so favourable an impression that, many years after, when the church in that town became vacant, he was immediately, and it is believed unanimously, called to the Kectorship. He entered the Freshman class at Yale College in 1782, and graduated in 1786 ; having spent the summer previous to his graduation in teaching a school at New Milford, Conn. His pecuniary circumstances were straitened, and he resorted to teaching as a matter of necessity. He sustained a high reputation throughout his College course for talents, diligence, and exem- plary deportment. Soon after he left College, he was admitted a candidate for Holy Orders by Bishop Seabury. His theological studies were prose- cuted chiefly under the direction of the Rev. (afterwards Dr.) Richard Mansfield of Derby, though they were concluded under the immediate superintendence of the Bishop. He was ordained Deacon by Bishop Seabury, in Christ Church, Derby, on the 21st of September, 1787. In October following, he was called to officiate in the churches in Stratford, Vt., and in Hanover, N. H. Ho returned to Connecticut in the early part of the year 1788 ; and on the 25th of February, was admitted by the same Bishop to the Holy Order of Priests, in St. James' Church, New London ; and was, at the same time, appointed, in the form then used, to the Rectorship of the parishes men- tioned above. He, however, resigned this charge in October following. In the spring of 1792, he went to Boston, and was soon after called to sup- ply the place of the Rev. Mr. Montague,^ Rector of Christ Church in that * Calendar, 186i. — MS. from Isaac Bronsonj Esq. t John TKUjfBnLL was a descendant of Jiidah Trumbull, who came from England in 1645 and settled in Ipswich, Mass. He was born in Westbnry, (now Watertown,) Conn., April 23* 1715 ; was graduated at Yale College in 1T35 ; was settled as Pastor of the Congregational Church in his native place, where he died December 13, 1787, in the seventy-third year of his age, and the forty-eighth of his ministry. He was a Fellow of Yale College from 1772 till his death. He was married in 1744 to Sarah, daughter of the Eev. Samuel Whitman, of Farming- ton, and was the father of John Trumbull, author of McFingall. He is represented as having been an uncommonly amiable and accomplished man, a devout Christian, and a highly respect- able Minister of the Gospel. t William Montague was graduated at Dartmouth College in 1784. In 1786, he was employed, on trial, as lay reader, in Christ Church, Boston, for six months. At the expiration of this term, the engagement was renewed. In June, 1787, at the request of the congregation, he obtained Holy Orders, and continued his services with some intenuptions, till May, 1792, when he declined officiating any longer as their minister. He died in 1833. TILLOTSON BEONSON. 359 town, during his absence on a transatlantic tour. In the spring of 1793, he again returned to Connecticut, and in the autumn of the same year was settled over the churches at Hebron, Chatham, and Middle Haddam. In these parishes he was extensively useful ; and he was accustomed to recur to this period of his ministry ever after with grateful recollections. In the year 1795, he was called to the Rectorship of St. John's Church, Waterbury. Here he remained about ten years, and, during the whole time, the parish was in a united and prosperous condition, and many believed themselves savingly benefitted by his ministrations. Several cir- cumstances occurred to render his removal from Waterbury expedient ; particularly his appointment to conduct the Churchman's Magazine, which was then published at New Haven. He, accordingly, resigned his Rector- ship in the spring of 1805, and immediately removed to that city. After having had charge of the Magazine between two and three years, it was thought desirable, owing to some peculiar circumstances, that it should be removed to the city of New York ; and with that event his connection with the work terminated. His labours in this field were highly appreciated, and the volumes which he edited are still regarded as creditable alike to his talents and his learning. Towards the close of the year 1805, he was elected, without opposition, by the Protestant Episcopal Convention of Connecticut, to the office of Principal of the Episcopal Academy at Cheshire ; whereupon, he removed to Cheshire, and entered immediately on the duties of his office. He found the Academy in a depressed condition ; but it gradually rose under his able and faithful superintendence and management, until it became one of the most respectable institutions of the kind in the country. A consider- able number completed their classical course here ; and many of those who were designed for the ministry, remained and availed themselves of his instruction in the different branches of their theological education. He was honoured with the Degree of Doctor of Divinity from Brown University in 1813. He enjoyed almost uninterrupted health until about a year and a half previous to his death. The disease which then overtook him was the stone; which, though it subjected him to severe paroxysms of pain, did not, for some time, materially interrupt the discharge of his duties. He had suf- fered more than a year before the nature of his disease was fully ascer- tained ; but at length he could not but be sensible that it was making rapid inroads upon his vigorous constitution, and he seemed convinced that the time of his departure was at hand. The Churchman's Magazine had a little before this been revived the second time, and he had again under- taken the duties of editor ; and, though he was a constant sufferer, and had no reason to expect any relief until death should bring it, he still con- tinued to prepare and arrange the matter for the Magazine, besides attend- ing to his accustomed duties in the Academy. On the 1st of June, 1826, he found his strength so much wasted that. he felt constrained to address to the Convention a letter, declining a. re-election as a member of their Standing Committee, — an office which he' had held for the twenty preceding years. After this he continued gradu- ally to decline till the 15th of August, when his disease took on a more- 360 EPISCOPALIAN. aggrarated form, thus betokening the near approach of death. A paralytic shock quickly ensued, that prostrated at once the powers of his body and his mind. This was succeeded by another similar attack about the 1st of September ; on the 4th he became insensible, and on the 6th he died, in the sixty-fifth year of his age, and the twenty-first of his Principalship of the Academy. So long as his reason was continued to him, his mind was clear and tranquil in respect to the future, and he expressed himself ready to depart and be with Christ. An appropriate Discourse was delivered at his Funeral by the Rev. B. Gr. Noble. Dr. Bronson received many testimonies of public respect. He was selected by the Standing Committee to preach the Sermon at the Opening of the Convention which was called soon after the death of Bishop Jarvis. He was again appointed, as Chairman of the Standing Committee, to deliver the Address in behalf of the Convention, recognising the E,t. Rev. Dr. Brownell as their Diocesan. And on both occasions he acquitted himself with great dignity and ability. He was very often honoured with the appointment of delegate to the General Convention. The ofiice of Trustee of the Episcopal Academy of Cheshire was held by him almost from its commencement ; and, at the time of his death, he was a Trustee of the General Theological Seminary, and of Washington College. He was married on the 9th of November, 1797, to Hannah, daughter of Hezekiah Thompson, of Woodbury, Conn. She died at Cheshire, on the 28th of February, 1808. He was afterwards married to Polly Hotchkiss, of Hampden, Conn., who died on the 26th of September, 1826. By the first marriage he had four children ; by the second, two. One of his sons (by the first marriage) was for a while a member of Kenyon College, with the expectation of entering the ministry ; but was compelled by ill health not only to leave College, but to relinquish the prospect of engaging in his chosen profession, and is now (1855) engaged in teaching. FROM THE HON. JOHN A. FOOT, or CLEVELAND, OHIO. Cheshike, Conn., July 5, 1855. Dear Sir: I am detained here by the illness of my son, and feel ill prepared to fulfil the promise I made, some time since, to give you some of my recollections of the late Dr. Tillotson Bronson — nevertheless I will make the attempt. My parents removed to this place in the spring of the year 1813. I was then in my tenth year; and I resided here, with the exception of the time I spent in pursuing my collegiate and professional studies, until the period of Dr. Bron- son's death. I mention this that you may know what opportunities I had of becoming acquainted with his character. The Doctor must have been, I think, nearly six feet in height; was rather portly, and when he appeared in the street, enveloped, as he was in winter, in a dark cloak, or at other seasons, clad in a plain, black suit, his appearance was decidedly commanding. I always supposed, however, that he was indebted to his devoted family for whatever of apj9eara«ce there was in his favour; for the slightest intercourse with him would convince any one that he was entirely care- less of personal appearance. His manners were perfectly simple — perhaps, however, a more correct impression would be conveyed by saying that he seemed so engrossed in thought and study, as to be careless of manners. And he was TILLOTSOX BROXSON. 3g]^ sometimes regarded by the fastidious, as I have beer, informed, as even unman- nerly. During the week, excepting as he passed to and fro, I thinli he spent nearly all his available time either in his study, or in attending to his duties in the Academy. He never seemed to me to indulge in, or to require, to any great extent, the ordinary recreations of other men. There was a zest in study, in thought, and in reading, to him, which preserved health, kept up a flow and exuberance of spirits, and seemed almost to supersede the necessity of any more fonual relaxation. " Still new beauties do I see, and still increasing light," seemed always to be true of him, not merely in reference to his own studies, but also in the matter of ordinary recitations — the fine passages alternately bringing out his tears or his hearty laugh, .as his sympathy or his humour was appealed to. Particuliirly was all this true when he found a student appreciating the beauties of the author he was studying, or correctly rendering a diiBcult pas- sage. Towards the close of his life, he remarked to me that his interest in study was diminishing, and I thought it seemed a sad reflection to him. You will conclude from what 1 have already said that he was an accomplished and excellent teacher for those who were disposed to improve their advantages. A large number of the prominent Clergy of the Protestant Episcopal Church finished their education under him. And from .among those who were at the Academy with me, there are two who stand at the head of our Bar at Cleveland, and who would have the same place at any Bar in our country. I am bound to say that, with all his excellent qualities as a teacher, I think he would have accomplished more if he had exercised a more vigorous discipline. In his exuberant kindness and boundless love of study, he was easily led to believe that all liis pupils would be faithful and studious; and from these causes, as well as from the fact that he was very near-sighted, the roguish and lazy boys were full of tlieir pranks, and proportionally neglectful of their studies. But we all loved and respected him. There seemed to be not a particle of harshness or bitterness in his constitution; and though usually alone, and engrossed by his books or thoughts when not surrounded by his students, yet every thing indicated his deep interest in the happiness of others. I remember one notable exception to the remark I have just made in respect to Dr. Bronson; and it is the only exception of which I ever had any knowledge. As I entered the school-room one afternoon I found the Doctor absent, and the scholars intensely excited. I soon learned that some boy had caused a torpedo to explode under our teacher's chair, and that he was then in the other depart- ment for the purpose of discovering the offender. He quickly returned and inflicted severe punishment, and all mischief was ever after carried on in a deci- dedly less noisy manner. During Dr. Bronson's connection with the Academy, there was a horse-jockey living at one of the hotels in the village, whose sharpness at a bargain had made him notorious throughout the whole region. His name was Simeon C . One of the boys at the school, after having read a Latin sentence, expressive of as much surprise as if a certain man should be deceived, gave the somewhat liberal rendering — "as if Sim should be cheated in a horse trade," to the great satis- faction of tlie Doctor, who saw at once that the boy had got the idea as well as naively expressed it. In ren-ard to Dr. Bronson's character as a preacher, I cannot say much from actual knowledge, as, my father's family being of the Puritan stock, I was not accustomed to hear him. My impression is, however, that, while he was capable of writing an excellent sermon, his manner of delivery was not particularly attractive. I have more than once heard that, at an Episcopal Convention, where the regularly appointed preacher had failed to attend, and there was no other present who was prepared to preach, one of the clergy, who was a good rhe- torician, borrowed the sermon that the Doctor had preached in a preceding year. Vol. V. 46 £52 EPISCOPALIAN. and preached it over again, with great eclat, and without the least suspicion being awakened that it was an old sermon; until, when they came to ask a copy of it for the press, the preacher told them they must ask Dr. Bronson about that, as he had written it, and he alone had a right to say whether it should be pub- lished. I am inclined to think that the Doctor felt that it was rather his mission to train others for the pulpit, than to shine there himself. There was another difSculty in the way of his success in this department, growing out of the extreme tenderness of his feelings. He could not read aloud the story of Joseph without entirely breaking down, when he came to the passage, — " I am Joseph, your brother, whom ye sold into Egypt;" and the same interesting weak- ness would always exhibit itself under similar circumstances. I remember an anecdote illustrative of the Doctor's remarkable abstractedness. He was, as I have been credibly informed, once seen walking through the streets in a violent thunder storm, with his umbrella raised in his hand, but not opened or spread, and he entirely unconscious of his mistake, though thoroughly drenched. You may well conclude that I regard the subject of this letter as having been a much more than common man, and one whose memory deserves to be per- petuated; and I only regret that I cannot do more in aid of your praiseworthy object. Very truly and respectfully yours, JOHN A. FOOT. FROM THE REV. FREDERICK HOLCOMB, D. D., KECTOK OP TRINITY CHDKOH, NOETHFIELD, CONN. Watertown, Conn,, June 15, 1858 Dear Sir : My first acquaintance with the Rev. Dr. Tillotson Bronson was about the year 1810. I then met him to undergo my first examination, as to literary qualifications to become a candidate for the ministry in the Protestant Episcopal Church. I found him the staunch and zealous advocate of an educated ministry. And my subsequent examinations by him in Ecclesiastical History, Didactic Theology, and other kindred studies, gave me but too good an opportu- nity both to see and to feel his familiarity with those subjects. At that time and for many years after, he was Principal of the Episcopal Academy at Che- shire, and was regarded by his pupils not less than by the Church at large, as a ripe scholar, a close and logical reasoner, and well read divine. In his hours of study, some of which were devoted to the higher branches of JIathematics and Philosophy, as well as in the composition of his sermons, he often showed himself capable of such an abstraction of mind, as almost pre- cluded the possibility of interruption from ordinary causes. He once told me of an adventure illustrative of this characteristic, — pointing out to me the spot where it took place, — which had well nigh been productive of very serious consequences. As he was riding alone in a sleigh, his thoughts were employed upon the frame- work of a sermon; and just as he had got its various parts arranged in his mind, he found himself upset upon the brink of a precipice. It was, as it turned out, no very serious catastrophe; but it served, at least for the time, to show him to what world he belonged. Though he found his chief enjoyment in his studies, and the appropriate duties of his vocation, he had naturally fine social qualities, and could occasionally be very happy in the society of his friends. With him there was always a broad line of separation between the grave and solemn on the one hand, and the ludi- crous and witty on the other. And while in one set of circumstances, he could be easily affected to tears, in another he could be thrown into as hearty a laugh, and could evince as keen a relish for good-humour, as any man you would meet. TILLOTSON BRONSON. 3g3 r. Bronson was an accurate observer of passing events, and was much inclined to view them in their relations to both the past and the future. He was also r« diligent student of human nature; and by the helps which were hereby furnished him, he had, as it now seems to me, an almost prophetic insight into the future. Ilis talents were rather solid than showy; his knowledge was the result x>f continued and laborious application; but he was fitted both by nature and by tjulture to be eminently useful; and he performed a service for his genera- tion, in a noiseless and unobtrusive way indeed, which justly entitles him to be remembered as a public benefactor. It gives me sincere pleasure, in compliance with your request, to bear my humble testimony in honour of his character and his services. Truly and faithfully yours, F. HOLCOMB. JOHN SYLVESTER JOHN GARDINER, D. D * 1787—1830. John Sylvester John Gardiner was descended from a respectable ancestry, who emigrated from England to this country at an early period of its settlement. His grandfather, Sylvester Gardiner, an eminent phy- sician, was a native of Rhode Island, but spent a considerable portion of his life in Boston. His father, John Gardiner, was sent to England for his education ; and having studied Law at the Inner Temple, and been admitted to the Bar under very promising auspices, was married to a highly respectable Welsh lady by the name of Harris ; and their eldest son, the subject of this sketch, was born in June, 1765, at Haverford (or as it is commonly called, Harford) West, in South Wales. The father, being a Whig in politics, and a Dissenter in religion, was little disposed to remain in Great Britain, and accepted the appointment of Attorney General of the Island of St. Christopher, whither he removed soon after the birth of his son, and where he remained till the close of the War of the Revolution. At the age of five years, and about the year 1770, the son was sent to this country, and placed under the care of his grandfather, then a resident here. The first school he attended was that of the celebrated Master Lovell, of Boston ; but, after three or four years, he returned to his father at St. Christopher's, and, having remained there a short time, was sent to Eng- land to complete his education under the direction of the famous Dr. Parr. Here he continued, enjoying the instruction of this veteran in classical literature, from September, 1776 to December, 1782. On leaving Dr. Parr's school, he again visited his father in the West Indies ; and about the year 1783, came with him to Boston, where he was to find his future and permanent home. For a short time, in compliance with his father's wishes, * Bp. Doane's Fun. Sorm. — Blake's Biog. Diot. 364 EPISCOPALIAN. he pursued the study of the Law, partly under the direction of his father, and partly under that of the late Judge Tudor- Subsequently, however, he determined, with his father's consent, to enter the ministry ; and, having devoted some time to the study of Theology, and officiated for a season as lay-reader at Pownalboro', in Maine, he was ordained Deacon in St. Paul's Church, New York, October 18, 1787; and Priest, December 4, 1791, by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Provoost. Having officiated, for a while, in the parish of St. Helena, Beaufort, 8. C, he was elected, in 1792, Assistant to the Rev. Dr. Parker, Rector of Trinity Church, Boston. The income of the " Green foundation," on which he was placed, not then being an adequate support, he assumed, in connection with his duties as a minister, the office of a teacher of youth ; having charge first of a large classical school, and afterwards of a class of select pupils in his own house. Upon the death of Dr. Parker, who, towards the close of his life, was appointed to the Bishopric, he was unanimously chosen Rector of the Church, and was inducted to that office, April 15, 1805. The office of Assistant Minister, which he had filled, was kept vacant by his request, that the funds might be allowed to accumulate so as to furnish an adequate support to his successor ; notwithstanding this arrangement was at the expense of greatly increasing his own labours. He continued to have the sole charge of the church for many years, till his health became so much impaired that it was found abso- lutely necessary that he should have some one to share with him the bur- den ; and it was not till then that he consented to receive an Assistant. At length his disease became so threatening that he was induced, by medi- cal advice, to try the effect of a voyage to Europe. He reached Liverpool, not at all benefitted by the passage. Thence he hastened to London, with a view to avail himself of the best medical aid; and thence to Harrowgate, to try its mineral waters. But it was all to no purpose. His disease made regular and rapid progress towards the seat of life, and finally reached a fatal termination, July 29, 1830. Two days after, (on the 31st,) his remains were committed to the grave, by strange hands, on a distant aud foreign shore. He was married on the 29th of September, 1794, to Mary Howard, who survived him. He lost two children, at an early age, and left three, — one son and two daughters. His wife and eldest daughter accompanied him on the tour to England, from which he was destined never to return. He received the honorary degree of Master of Arts from Harvard Uni- versity, in 1803 ; and the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the University of Pennsylvania, in 1813. " Among the circumstances," says Bishop Doane, '■ of Dr. Gardiner's literary life, his connection with the Anthology Club may be singled out as most interesting, and most important in its results. The club, though projected by the late Rev. Mr. Emerson, was formed at Dr. Gardiner's house; and he continued to be itsPresident, and, as an old member of it recently expressed himself, ' its very life and soul,' from its foundation in 1805, to his retirement from the club in 181 1 ; when he was succeeded by President Kirkland, six months before its dissolution. By this club, the ' Monthly Antholojry and Boston Review' was conducted — a work which was, at its time, the ablest periodi- cal of literature in the United States, and assisted gi-eatly in elevating the standard of letters in this country. Indeed the origin of the North American Review may be remotely traced to it. But the great glory of the Anthology Club consists in its hav- ing laid the foundation of the Athenseum . Among the objects of the club was a read- ing room for the use of the members. This was first put in execution at a meeting held October 23, 1805, at the Eev. Dr. Gardiner's; he himself setting the example by JOHN SYLVESTER JOWH GARDINER. 335 the donation of a large number of volumes of the ' Gentleman's Magazine.' By degrees the plan was enlarged ; the property of the books was vested in trustees for tlie use of the members and other subscribers; the name was changed; and from this humble beginning originated the noble institution of the Boston Athen^um, now num- bering twenty-flve thousand volumes." The following is a list of Dr. Gardiner's publications : — A Sermon before the Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Massachusetts, 1802. An Address before the Massachusetts Charitable Fire Society, 1803. A Sermon before the Humane Society of Massachusetts, 1803. A Sermon on the death of Bishop Barker, 1804. A Fast Sermon, 1808. A Thanks- giving Sermon, 1808. A Sermon before the Boston Female Asylum, 1809. A Sermon on the Decease of Elizabeth Lady Temple, 1809. A Sermon on the Decease of Dr. James Lloyd, 1810. A Sermon before the African Society for the Abolition of the Slave Trade, 1810. A Fast Sermon, 1810. A Christmas Sermon, 1810. A Sermon entitled " Preservative against Uui- tarianism," &c., 1811. A Sermon on the Decease of George Higginson, 1812. A Sermon on the Death of Thomas C. Amory, 1812. A Fast Ser- mon, April 9, 1812. A Fast Sermon, July 28, 1812. A Sermon before the Trustees of the Society of Donations and the Episcopal Convention of the State of Massachusetts, 1813. A Sermon on the Death of David Sears, Esq., 1816. A Sermon before the Ancient and Honourable Artillery Company, 1823. FROM -WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT, ESQ., Boston, December 21, 1848. My dear Sir: It gives me great pleasure to comply with your request for my recollections of Dr. Gardiner; for I believe few persons understood his charac- ter and moral worth better than I did, as he was my preceptor in my early days, and afterwards my minister. I shall, however, do little more than reproduce part of an obituary notice of him which I wrote shortly after his death, while the recollection of his peculiar traits was yet fresh, not doubting that that will suit your purpose better than any thing I could write now, after the lapse of so many years. Dr. Gardiner's character was one which it required no study to penetrate. It was marked by great honesty and directness of purpose, and entire candour in the expression of it. It was this frankness and cordiality of temper which begat an attachment for hini in the bosom of his friends such as few even of those blest perhaps with an equal degree of virtue, are capable of exciting. lie had none of the chilling reserve nor the pedantry which too often attach to learning, and he was entirely exempt from the little jealousies and envy which so frequently interrupt the freedom of social intercourse. The enlarged benevo- lence of his disposition was shown in the ready confidence and cheerfulness of spirit, which never fail to win confidence in return, and which engage the sym- pathies of the young as of the old. Dr. Gardiner was firmly attached to the doctrines of the Church of Eng- land, but he had none of the exclusive feelings of those who would close the gates of mercy against such as are without the pale of their own sect. He did not burn wi,th any undue spirit of proselj'tism; for he conceived that the real interests of Christianity would be better advanced by an exposition of the prac- tical duties which it recommended than by polemical discussion. While he was strenuous in inculcating religious and moral precepts, he set little comparative value on the exterior, the mere forms of devotion. His interest in the ministry was evinced by the punctuality and constancy with which he continued for 366 EPISCOPALIAN. nearly forty years to fulfil its arduous functions, which, during by far the greater part of the time, devolved almost exclusively on himself, in consequence of the paucity of clergymen of the same denomination in this city. And it is an affecting circumstance that his eagerness to discharge his professional duties, notwithstanding his physical exhaustion, and the affectionate services of his partner in the ministry, operated, in no slight degree, to exasperate his mortal malady. Dr. Gardiner was distinguished for an habitual cheerfulness, which flowed partly from his constitution of mind, partly from his views of Revelation, and in no small degree also from his ardent love of letters. He had the rare fortune of being a pupil of the celebrated Dr. Parr, after the retirement of that scholar from the Harrow School. He acquired, as was most natural, under such tuition, an acquaintance with and a high relish for classical learning. And his subse- quent life affords a pertinent illustration of the lasting benefits of an early and thorough discipline in classical literature. They are visible in the habitual accu- racy and propriety of his style, both in writing and conversation; in his pure taste in criticism, as well as in his increased relish for the more refined beauties of composition, and in the inexhaustible source of delight which the study of this literature continued to afford him to the last moments of his life. As an exemplification of this, during the last summer in which he remained in this country, when his frame was fast sinking under a disorder which might naturally have disposed the mind to any thing but active exercise, he carefully perused (and it formed but a small portion of his reading) tlie forty-eight Books of the Iliad and the Odyssey in the original, without the aid of a Lexicon or an Eng- lish version. There are not many scholars in our generation, who would seek in this way to lighten the heavy hours of sickness. He was still more accom- plished in the Latin tongue, in a familiarity with which it may reasonably be doubted whether he left an equal in this country. Prom these venerable sources of wisdom he continued to derive his daily nutriment, reviewing the best authors cv6ry year, until his acquaintance with the idiom was such that he read it with the fluency of a mother tongue. All who had the benefit of his instruction will readily recall the exact acquaintance which he manifested with the nicest prin- ciples of construction, and the most latent beauties of expression in the works of the Roman authors. As a teacher of youth, Dr. Gardiner's services in incul- cating the lessons which he received from his accomplished master. Dr. Parr, and his success in inspiring his pupils with his own enthusiasm for the immor- tal productions of antiquity, cannot be too highly appreciated; occurring, as they did, at a period when the principles of education, particularly in the department to which I now refer, were but poorly understood in this country. The high standard which Dr. Gardiner had formed from his intimacy with the severe models of antiquity, led him to be fastidious in no little degree, in his estimation of the moderns. He withheld his admiration from those works which appeared to him not to have the principle of enduring vitality, while he Studied over and over again the productions of those minds which seemed des- tined to enlighten all future generations. He adopted Pliny's maxim to read much rather than many books — multum non multa; and all who knew him will bear testimony to the rich stores of English literature which he had laid up in his memory, and to the uncommon facility and pertinency with which he was accus- tomed to produce them on every suitable occasion. Dr. Gardiner was of about the middle height, with a strong and ^symmetrical frame. He had a fresh and ruddy complexion, intimating the English stock from which he sprung. His voice was sweet and sonorous. Its finely modulated tones, and the remarkable accuracy of his pronunciation made him a delightful reader. There were few enjoyments greater than that of listening to him as he read aloud from the English classics, which he loved, and which were pretty JOHN SYLVESTER JOHN GARDINER. 337 sure to be of the age of Elizabeth or of Anne. This accomplishment was of great importance to him as a minister of the Episcopal Church. There are few who listened to him in the pulpit, who do not carry with them the recollection of his chai'ming elocution. After the lapse of so long a time, the rich tones of his voice still linger in my ear, calling up once more the image of the excellent man to whose memory I now pay this most sincere, though ineffectual, tribute. I shall be glad if this imperfect sketch answers j'our purpose, and beg you will believe me, my dear Sir, with much respect. Your obedient servant, WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT. RT. REV. RICHARD CHANNING MOORE, D.D.* 1787—1841. RiCHAED Channing Moore was a lineal descendant of Sir John Moore, of Berkshire, England, who was knighted by Charles the First, in 1627, two years after he came to the throne. He lost both his estate and his life in the Revolution which ended in the violent death of that ill-fated monarch. Of his descendants little is known till we come to John Moore, the grand- father of the subject of this sketch, who was an eminent merchant in the city of New York, in Colonial times, and, at the time of his death. Colonel of one of the New York Regiments, and a member of the King's Council for the Province. He died in 1749, and was the first person buried in Trinity Church yard. He had eighteen children by one marriage, thirteen of whom were sons ; the seventh son was Lambert, who was sent to Eng- land for an education ; afterwards returned to his native country ; lost his property during the Revolutionary War; and finally removed to Norwich, Conn., and resided with a brother, where he died on the 19th of June, 1784. His wife was Elizabeth Channing — a lady of highly respectable family, of the finest dispositions and accomplishments, and of devoted piety. They had twelve children : one of whom was Richard Channing, born in the city of New York, on the 21st of August, 1762. At the commencement of the Revolutionary War, he was prepared to enter King's College, having pursued his studies under Mr. Alexander Les- lie, Professor of Languages in the College ; but, on account of the troublous times, his parents fled with him to West Point, where he remained four years. After this, he returned to the city, and commenced the study of Medicine under the instruction of Dr. Richard Bayley, a distinguished physician of his day. In due time, he became a medical practitioner, an continued in the profession about four years. His mind had been early impressed with religious truth through the influence of his mother, but, as he grew up, he became immersed in the pleasures and gaieties of the world. After having been for some time engaged in the practice of Medicine, his early impressions returned with increased strength, and he was brought, as he believed, to receive Christianity in its life and power. The consequence « Henshaw's Memoir. — Southern Literary Messenger, 1842, 368 EPISCOPALIAN. of this change was that he soon formed the purpose of devoting himself to the ministry of the Gospel. Having pursued his preparatory studies, under the general direction of Bishop Provoost, receiving aid also from some other of his clerical friends in the city, he was ordained by the Bishop as Deacon, in July, 1787, in St. George's Chapel, New York, and was admitted to Priest's Orders, in September following. The first two years of his ministry were spent at Bye, Westchester County, N. Y., where his labours were at once highly acceptable and useful. Thence, in October, 1789, he was called to take charge of the congregation of St. Andrew's Church, at Richmond, on Staten Island. Here he laboured for twenty-one years with eminent success. The bounds of his parish, during this period, were greatly- enlarged, the number of communicants much increased, and the standard of Christian attainment greatly elevated. After making large additions to the sittings of the church, such were the numbers that flocked to his ministry, that it became necessary to provide still more extensive accommodations, and a chapel of ease was accordingly built about six miles distant from the parish church. The Honorary degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by Dartmouth College, in 1805. In May, 1808, during his residence on Staten Island, he was one of the clerical deputies to represent the Diocese of New York in the General Con- vention of the Episcopal Church, held in Baltimore. During the session of the Convention, he preached several times in the churches of the city to great acceptance ; and afterwards received an invitation from St. Paul's Parish to become their Eeotor. He had previously received a call from the same parish ; but in both instances felt constrained to decline. At the same Convention, an addition was made to the Hymns of the Church, and Dr. Moore was Chairman of the Committee appointed to make the selec- tion. When he read the Eeport, one hymn after another was adopted with- out discussion, till, at length, an opponent of the measure rose and said, — " I object to the hymns being read by that gentleman ; for we are so fasci- nated by his style of reading, that we shall, without hesitation, adopt them all." In June, 1809, he was called to a still more important sphere of useful- ness in St. Stephen's Church, New York. He accepted the place, leaving his eldest son in charge of his flock on Staten Island. Here he found a small congregation, and only about thirty communicants ; but, at the end of five years, the church was crowded to overflowing, and the number of communicants was between four and five hundred. In 1814, he was called to the Eectorship of the Monumental Church at Eiehmonl, and to the Episcopate of Virginia. He was consecrated to the office of Bishop in St. James' Church, Philadelphia, on the 18th of May, by Bishop White, assisted by Bishops Hobart, Griswold, and Dehon. The Episcopal Church in Virginia had, owing to various circumstances, fallen into a sad state of decay, and needed greatly to be revived, not only in respect to its outward interests, but especially in the inward evangelical spirit. Bishop Moore was pre-eminently qualified to undertake such a work ; for, though he was past fifty, he retained his full vigour, and had all those intellectual, moral, social and spiritual qualities, that were neces- RICHARD OHANNINC MOORE. 3Q9 sary to secure to him a most benign and extensive influence. The result of his labours was more than the most sanguine could have anticipated. When he came to the Episcopate, there were, in the Diocese, only four or five active, labouring ministers ; but when he left it, there were nearly one hundred, most of them zealously devoted to their work. Nor was he less esteemed as a Rector than as a Bishop. His fine personal and pastoral qualities, together with his popular talents and admirable evangelical spirit, gave him an almost unlimited influence over his congregation ; and there were few of the large body of communicants, at the time of his death, to whom he had not administered the rite of Confirmation. Bishop Moore's physical and intellectual faculties lost little of their vigour with his advancing years. Two days before he commenced his last Visitation, he oflaciated at a funeral, and delivered extempore a most appro- priate and affecting address ; and such was the energy and fervour that he manifested on the occasion, that an aged Christian, of another communion, remarked that " this must surely be his last message to Richmond." And thus it proved. Though he was then in his eightieth year, he set out on a journey to Lynchburg, distant a hundred and fifty miles, to perform Episcopal functions. He arrived at Lynchburg on Thursday, the 5th of November. The next day he attended Divine service in the forenoon ; in the afternoon, met at the Rector's house the candidates for Confirmation, and addressed them in an exceedingly interesting manner ; and in the even- ing, attended service again, and after a sermon by one of his Presbyters, delivered an address, characterized by uncommon animation and pathos. But this proved to be his last public service : that night he was seized with a fatal malady. Finding himself unwell before midnight, he arose to call for help ; but his strength failing him, he fell upon the fioor, and lay the^e^ helpless for some time before he could make himself heard. It was found that he was labouring under a violent attack of pneumonia. He lived five days after this, and was for the most part in a comatose state, though there were intervals in which he would be roused up, and his countenance would, resume its accustomed intelligent and benignant expression. When told that death was at hand, he answered, with the utmost composure, — " It is- well; I trust I am prepared either for this world or the next." He died in perfect peace, and without a struggle, on Thursday, November 11, 1841,, at the age of seventy-nine, having been a minister of the Protestant Epis- copal Church fifty-four years, and Bishop of the Diocese of Virginia, twenty-seven years. A Sermon, with reference to his death, was preached, by his assistant in the ministry, the Eev. William Norwood. At the age of twenty-two, he was married to Christian Jones of the city of New York, who died April 20, 1796, aged twenty-eight, after having: been a devoted wife to him for twelve years. By this marriage there were' three children, — two daughters and one son. On the 23d of March, 1797, he was married, a second time, to Sarah Mersereau, of Staten Island, by whom he had six children, — two sons and four daughters. His son, David, was born in the city of New York, on the 3d of June, 1787. He was graduated at Columbia College in 1806 ; was ordained Deacon by Bishop Benjamin Moore, on the 8th of May, 1808, and after- wards Priest by Bishop Hobart. After the removal of his father from Vol. V. 47 370 EPISCOPALIAN. Staten Island, he was unanimously chosen Rector of that large and impor- tant parish, and though only twenty-one years of age, rendered himself at once universally acceptable in that relation. In this parish he spent his whole ministerial life. He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Union College, in 1841. He died of a painful malady, of about one year's continuance, on the 30th of September, 1856. He was a fine example of a meek, devout and benevolent spirit, of an exemplary Christian life, and an exalted ministerial character. The other son of Bishop Moore, who bears his name, was graduated at Washington (now Trinity) College, Hartford, in 1829 ; was Rector of St. John's Church, Elizabethtown, N. J., from 1834 to 1855 ; and is now (1857) in charge of a church in Williamsport, Pa. Besides various Charges, &c.. Bishop Moore published a Sermon on " the Doctrines of the Church," preached in St. James' Church, Philadelphia, at the Opening of the General Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church 1820. A Memoir of Bishop Moore's life, by the Rev. J. P. K. Henshaw, D. D., then of Baltimore, afterwards Bishop of Rhode Island, was pub- lished shortly after Bishop M.'s decease. FROM THE RET. GEORGE WOODBRIDGE, BECTOK or THE MONnMENTAL CHUKOH, KIOHMOND, VA Richmond, January 6, 1849. Kev. and dear Sir: Our common friend, Mr. T , some time since mentioned to me your wish that some one should furnish you with a brief sketch of tlie character of the late Bishop Moore, and he further requested that I would under- take it. If the following should suit your object, it is quite at your service. Bishop Moore's natural character was an uncommonly fine one. His dispo- sition, originally kind and sympathetic, became still more so under the training of Providence, and the teaching of the Holy Spirit, and vibrated, like the jEolian harp, to every touch of joy or wo in his fellow creatures. In his visits to the aflBicted he was eminently a, son of consolation; and while he was always ready to weep with them that wept, he was not less so to rejoice with them that rejoiced. He was admirably qualified by nature for the ministerial ofBce. Ilis voice was sweet and clear, and so flexible as to convey his meaning with the utmost exactness. His comprehension of his subject was clear, his grasp of it vio-orous, and his style simple and perspicuous. His whole manner was solemn and dig- nified, and eminently fitted to make an impression. "With these advantao-es, he could scarcely fail to be a popular preacher; and so indeed he was. During his residence in the city of New York, he usually preached three times on the Sab- bath, and almost always to a crowded audience. And his labours were far from being in vain; for there was one almost uninterrupted scene of religious interest pervading the congregation to which he ministered. And his ministry on Staten Island was perhaps blessed in a degree still more remarkable. It was at a weekly lecture that he first observed the evidences of an incipient awakening; and so intense became the feelings of his audience, and so eager their thirst for spiritual counsel and instruction, that he delivered three successive lectures to them on the spot, and then was obliged almost to force them away on account of his own physical exhaustion. There are some excellent traits of character which he possessed in an eminent degree. He spoke evil of no one; and nothing met from him more decided dis- RICHARD CHANNING MOORE. 371 approbation than a spirit of censoriousness in others. He seemed disposed always to look upon the brightest side of every character; and though he was not in.sensible of the failings of his fellow-men, he always kept silent in respect to them, unless there was some special reason for the contrary. He never ren- dered evil for evil; but, under the reception of the greatest injuries, was meek and patient, and committed himself to Him that judgeth righteously. Uu was distinguished also by his inflexible integrity. Not merely that he was scrupulously honest in all his dealings, but he was entirely void of every thing like deceit. Trickery, meanness, duplicity in every form, he regarded not only with disapprobation but with abhorrence; and it was not easy for one in whom he had discovered this odious quality ever to restore himself to his confi- dence and regard. I must not omit to mention the uncommon gentleness of his spirit. But this, it must be acknowledged, was, to a great extent, the effect of self-discipline; for his temper was naturally quick and excitable. If his accustomed benignity and calmness ever forsook him, under a severe provocation, it was sure to return to him, almost in a moment. His sensibility was exquisite. There was a class of subjects to which he could rarely advert without tears; and his mind scarcely ever recurred to the great objects and interests of religion, without evincing a spirit of unwonted tenderness. Wishing you all success in the labour you have undertaken, I am yours truly, GEORGE WOODBRIDGE. FROM THE HON. JOHN TYLER. Sherwood Forest, Charles Citt ) CotjNTY, Va., April 23, 1848. J Rev. and dear Sir: Your letter of the 5th inst. reached me some two mails ago, and in reply I have to say that it will at all times afford me the truest plea- sure, whenever I can, to comply with your requests. It was my good fortune, — for to have known such a man may well be esteemed a fortunate circumstance in one's life, — to have been well acquainted with Bishop Moore, the most venerable man in his outward person and appearance I remem- ber ever to have seen. His snow-white locks, which hung in thick profusion over his shoulders; his face broad and full; his eye so expressive of benevolence and charity; and his lips evermore wreathed with a smile, such as a kind father wears towards his children, added to a walk and a deportment, which bespoke to the beholder the man of God, made an impression upon one not readily to be forgotten. A striking instance of the effect of his personal appearance occurred, under peculiar circumstances, during the time that I occupied the President's House. A Convention of the Clergy and Laity of the Episcopal Church was holden at Alexandria, over which this venerable Prelate presided. I expressed to him, by letter, the great happiness which I should derive from his taking up his abode with me, during his sojourn in the District. After the rising of the Convention, he graciously accepted the invitation, and I had the gratification to receive him into the bosom of my family. The day after his arrival, we were promenading with other members of the family in the spacious East room, when the beating of drums was heard, and the servant in waiting announced to me the presence of a militar}' company, which had called to pay their ordinary saluta- tions to the Chief Magistrate. I directed that they should be invited into the room, which they soon after entered in full military array. The Bishop was placed mid-way the floor, where he stood with his hat in hand, the true personi- fication of all that was venerable. The soldiers' ej'es fell upon him, and simul- taneously the flag was lowered, and the oflBcers and soldiers united in the pas- 373 EPISCOPALIAK. sing salute; thus exhibiting their respect for the usknown aged man, who stood so unexpectedly before them. I do not remember ever to have witnessed so striking an instance of the effect of mere personal appearance. In the pulpit, he impressed one as a father delivering lessons of wisdom to his children. No one could hear him without acknowledging to himself, — " This venerable patriai'ch has a perfect right to assume towards me the character of a monitor; and from his lips I shall hear nothing but the sage lessons of truth and experience." It was not his eloquence, in the popular acceptation of the word, that impressed J' on: I have heard others far more eloquent; but there was evermore that about him that seemed to say, — " Open your ears, my son, to the admonitions of one who has lived long enough to learn the fleeting and unsubstantial vanities of life, and whose commission it is to reprove your errors, and lead you along on the way in which you ought to go." In the walks of private life, he lent a charm to society which few have power to impart. There was nothing ascetic, nothing constrained, in his intercourse. In social circles, there was no occasion for him to refer by language to the mighty theme, to the teaching of which his life was devoted. The aged Apostle stood before you, and his presence was a holy preaching to your heart. He kept the company enlivened by his anecdotes, of which he seemed to possess an endless store, while yet they were all made tributary to the illustration or enforcement of some important lesson of truth or duty. Such was the Right Beverend Prelate in the chapel and in the drawing room — an impressive teacher of sacred truth in the former; a most delightful, cheerful and profitable companion in the latter. When he went down to his grave, he was mourned for, as children mourn over a kind and affectionate parent. The Episcopal Church was nearly prostrate in Virginia before his daj'. Her sacred edifices were in ruins, and there were few to minister at her altars. No wonder that, under the preaching and example of such a Prelate, her condition should have been changed. No wonder that her altars should onca more bo lebuilt, and songs of praise again resound in edifices reared by the worsliippers of olden times. And yet this venerable man was no bigoted sectarian, — no fiery zealot. He regarded true religion, like the hen in the Scriptures, as expand- ing her wings, and taking in all her children. "Faith, Hope, Cliarity — the greatest of these " with him was emphatically " Charity." Happy that you have given me the opportunity thus to testify my affectionate respect for the memory of this excellent man, I am, with the tender of my sin- cere wishes for your health, happiness, and long life, Bear and Reverend Sir, most faithfully yours, JOHN TTLEK. FROM THE RT. REV. "WILLIA.M MEADE, D. D., BISHOP OP THE DIOCESE OF VIRGINLl. Millwood, August 9, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir: In reply to your letter requesting of me some recollections of the late Bishop Moore, I think I cannot serve your purpose better than by sending you a few extracts from some of his letters to me, which have never been published, and which not only bear the impress of his general character, but exhibit his views of several interesting subjects. In the year 1813, in reply to a letter from Dr. Wilmer and myself, proposing the Episcopate of Virginia to him, he thus writes: — "When events of great importance are suspended upon the adoption of any contemplated measure, the mind wishes to be possessed of such reasons as will justify us, in case a want of success should attend the undertaking. In reflecting upon the plan proposed to me by Mr. Wilmer ani yourself, I have in vain looked for those evidences which were necessary to convince me that it was my duty to acquiesce. Had I con- RICHARD CHANNING MOORE. 373 sented to your proposition, I must have done it without that fall persuasion which was necessary to my own quiet. My advances, therefore, would have been so tremulous tliatyour expectations would have been disappointed, and the cause injured, which you are both so anxious to promote. Could I have felt the pressure of duty on my conscience, it would have required more than a human arm to have an-ested me in the prosecution of the measure; but wanting that evi- dence, that " Pillar of a Cloud," I have taken it for granted that your partiali- ties have misled you, and that I am not the individual calculated for the work." In the 3-ear 1821, a proposition was made to divide the Diocese of Virginia. I declined taking any part in it without first consulting him. In reference to the letter which was addressed to him, and the reply made, he thus writes to me: — " To the late contemplated Division of the Diocese I really had no objec- tion but such as prudence and a regard to the peace and integrity of the Diocese required. To multiply Bishops at a time in which the only one we have is sup- ported by a single parish would be at variance with sound discretion and good policy. To see our chief pastors involved in debt no good man would wish, especially when it is remembered that they cannot cliange their re.sidence as Presbyters can do, but must be contented to suffer without tlie possibility of any other help than charity can afford them." In the year 1822, he wrote to me concerning a young Deacon who \i'as reported to him as being too negligent of the Canons. To my reply he thus writes : — " Your letter convinces me that I may always lean upon your arm for support in discharge of every legitimate act of Episcopal duty." "The want of conformity to my directions, you assure me in your communication, proceeded from miscon- ception, and not from intention: I should therefore be more than unkind if I wore to withhold from him any good offices in my power to bestow." " Tyranny, either in Church or State, I abhor from my heart; but as confusion and want of order vi'ould be equally prejudicial, we should guard against too much lenity with as much jealousy as against too much power." Bishop Mcllvaine and myself both wrote to him, in 1828, in regard to some measures adopted by revivalists of that day, especially Anxious Seats and certain modes of almost forcing persons to a profession of religion or of deep concern, expressing our disapprobation of them. In reply, he says, — " So far as I am acquainted with religion, one of its first operations on the mind is that of great humility. They feel that they are sinners, and that impression makes them humble. Now an humble Christian is in general so doubtful of himself, that, instead of rushing to the first seat, he prefers a less conspicuous place; and why the praj'ei's of the minister cannot be heard unless the anxious occupy a par- ticular seat I cannot understand. The publican, I recollect, stood afar off, and yet his modest and humble petition was heard, while the Pharisee went empty away. I have always been charged with a leaning towaids too much religious feeling. I love feeling in religion. Nay, I will say that there can be no true religion without it. But then I love to see tliat feeling produced by a faithful disclosure of evangelical truth, by preaching Christ as the Power and Wisdom of God; by leading men to the Saviour of life; free from any thing that looks like management or human contrivance." Ill the same letter, speaking of Clerical Associations, he says, — " In your last letter you lament that our clerical associations are not more attended to. I am jifi sorry, as any person can be, that it is so — ^knowing, from experience, that people will attend more generally on such occasions, than on the stated services of an individual. I wish the brethren would take that measure into considera- tion, for I am sure, if they would, that the services of the Church and the preach- in" of our estimable Clergy thus assembled, would be productive of the greatest and best good. Very truly yours, WILLIAM MEADE. 374 EPISCOPALIAN. RT. REV. JAMES KEMP, D. D.* 1789—1827. James Kemp, the youngest son of Donald and Isabel Kemp, was born in the parish of Keith Hall, Aberdeenshire, Scotland, in the year 1764. He was sent, at an early age, to the grammar school of Aberdeen, where he was distinguished for exemplary conduct and rapid proficiency in his studies. In 1782, he entered Marisehal College, Aberdeen, where he pur- sued his studies with great assiduity ; and in his Senior year ho took the mathematical prize, notwithstanding he had for his competitors several distinguished scholars, and among them the celebrated James Hay Beattie. Marisehal College, at that time, numbered among its Professors a galaxy of illustrious names, such as Copland, Hamilton, Beattie, Campbell, &c.; and such was young Kemp's appreciation of the advantages, of a residence there that, after taking his degree in 1786, he remained as a resident grad- uate for a year, attending the Lectures of Dr. Campbell, and at the same time applying himself to some other branches not generally embraced in a collegiate course. He was now earnestly solicited by a particular friend to engage in mercantile pursuits ; but, notwithstanding the most liberal offers were made to him, such was his aversion to this kind of life that he did not hesitate to decline them. He had been, for some time, desirous of visiting the United States ; and, having now formed the purpose to do so, in the hope that some prom- ising field of usefulness might here open to him, he embarked for this country in April, 1787. Soon after his arrival, he became a private tutor in a respectable family of Dorchester County, on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, and continued in this employment about two years. At length, having determined to devote himself to the ministry, he was led, from the peculiar circumstances in which he found himself, to direct his attention especially to the Episcopal Church. He had been educated a Presbyterian, and, in his native country, had known little of any other form of Church poKty ; but, being thrown among Episcopalians in Maryland, he was led to institute an inquiry in respect to their system, and, as the result of his examination, reached the conclusion that it was entirely apostolical and scriptural. He, accordingly, left the Presbyterian Church, and joined the Episcopal, with a view to enter the ministry in that communion ; and, having, for some time, pursued his studies under the direction of the Bev. Dr. Bowie.t then Kector of Great Choptank Parish, he was ordained Dea- * Wyatt's Funeral Address and Biograpbico;! Notices. — Hawks' Eoel. C?ontrib. II. t John Bowie was of Sootoh descent, but a nativeof Prince George's County, Md. Repair- ing to England, and having been admitted to Holy Orders, he was licensed for Maryland, July 28, 1771. After his return, he became Curate to the Rev. Alexander Williamson, of Prince George s Parish, in Montgomery County, In 1774, he liecame the incumbent of Worcester Parish, Worcester County. On the breaking out of the Revolution, he was a violent partisan of the English Gaverament, in consequence of which he was taken and carried to Annapolis, and there imprisoned for two years. On being released, he settled in Talbot Connty, on the Choptank, where he supported himself by teaching a classical school, and became the Rector of St. Peter's Parish, in which he lived. In 1785, he became the Rector of Great Choptank Parish, the other and South side of the river, still retaining his school. Early in 1790, b& resigned this parish, and on the 29th of March, of the same year, became Rector of St. Michael s Parish, in Talhat County. Hero he remained, still keeping up his school, till hia JAMES KEMP. 375 con by BisLop White, on the 26th of December, 1789, and Priest, the next day. In August, 1790, he succeeded his theological teacher, the Kev. Dr. Howie, as Hector of Great Choptank Parish, where he continued for upwards of twenty years, much respected and beloved by his people. In 1802, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Colum- bia College. In 1813, he succeeded the Eev. Dr. Bend, as Associate Rector with the Rev. Dr. Beasley, of Saint Paul's Parish, Baltimore. In 1814, he was elected by the Convention of Maryland, as Suffragan Bishop with Dr. Claggett, with the understanding that he should succeed to the full Episcopate, in case he should survive him. This measure was vigorously opposed by a portion of the Clergy, and had well-nigh been the occasion of a schism in the Body ; though the prudent and conciliatory spirit subsequently evinced by the Bishop, did much to soften and disarm the opposition. He was consecrated at New Brunswick, N. J., September 1, 1814, by Bishop White, assisted by Bishops Hobart, and R. C. Moore. Bishop Claggett committed to him the special jurisdiction of the churches on the Eastern shore, — making about one third of all the parishes in the Diocese, which was every way grateful to Bishop Kemp's feelings, as that was the region where he had long resided, and had formed many of his earliest and strongest attachments. On the death of Bishop Claggett, in 1816, he succeeded to the full responsibility and honour of the Episcopate ; and from that time to the close of his life, devoted himself most assiduously to the discharge of its various duties^ In 1815, he was elected Provost of the University of Maryland, which office he held as long as he lived. Bishop Kemp's death was occasioned by a distressing casualty. On the 25th of October, 1827, he was in Philadelphia, on the occasion of the Con- secration of the Rt. Rev. Dr. Henry U. Onderdonk. On his return home, the next day, the stage-coach in which he left New Castle, De., was over- turned, in consequence of which he received an internal injury that caused hi.s death, on the third day after, — the 28th of October. His bodily suf- ferings were intense, but the tranquillity of his mind was undisturbed to the last. I was myself in Baltimore at the time of his death, and well remember the demonstrations of respect and grief that were made at his funeral. An Address was delivered on the occasion -by the Rev. Dr. Wyatt, which was published. The following paragraph, extracted from the Address, details the particulars of the dying scene : — death in 1801. He left behind Mm three sons and a daughter. Mr. Bozman, the author of the Early History of Maryland, (1799,) writes thus : — " It is unnecessary for me to state to you the highly respectable character which the Kev. Mr. Bowie has long sustained in this State, not only as a private teacher for twenty years past, but as a gentleman of extensive erudition, of the first rate talents and abilities, a complete classical scholar, and above all a gentleman of unblemished morals and integrity." ALExANiiEn Williamson, referred to above, was licensed by the Bishop of London, for Maryland, December 27, 1755, and became Curate in St. Andrew's Parish, St. Mary s County, and from thenee removed to St. Anne, where he presented his letters of induction from Gov- ernor Sharpe, to the Vestry, April 23, 1759. In February, 1761, he was presented to the Curacy of Prince George's Parish, then Frederick County, but now Montgomery; and at that time he is supposed to have resigned St. Anns. In the following year, on the death of the Rector of Prince G-eorge's, he became the incumbent, and so continued till the autumn of 1776, when, by an act of the State Convention, the Clergy ceased to be supported by law. He was known as a Tory, but continued to reside on his estate above Georgetown, D. C, until his death. 376 EPISCOPALIAN. " It has been my office to stand at many a bedside, where death was doing his strange work. Many an humble and contrite spirit have I been called to sustain by the words of trnth, in its approach to the awful realities and mysteries of eternity. But never have I seen a calmer pr firmer assurance, a more humble and entire submis- sion to the will of God, trust in his promises, or sense of the value of the Redeemer's blood, than in Bishop Kemp In his ' hour of fear.' There was no repining, no impa- tience under pain, at any moment. There was cheerfulness and comfort in the man- ner in which he spoke of the duty in which he had been engaged. On the last morning, lie at one time arrested the attention of his friends to listen to some sentiments which he then felt able to utter; and he immediately proceeded to avow his faith in the effi- cacy of the Saviour's covenant, his sense of a need of his atoning merits; his charity — his charity for all, his forgiveness of all; his trust, submission, and hope. He then commended particularly all the objects of his aflfection and solicitude to the mercy and care of the Almighty ; and this with an unfaltering voice, until he uttered the words, — ' I pray for my Diocese,' when some emotion caused his accents to tremble. He heard with manifest pleasure of the sensibility you had discovered, my brethren, when, a few moments before, your prayers had been asked in this temple that his life might be spared; and he repeated several times, — ' Kind, good people, good people.' A few moments before his last breath escaped him, when your speaker was endeavouring to persuade himself and the suiferer that the inevitable hour was not so nigh at hand as had been supposed, he replied, — 'I cannot be deceived; two more such pains as 1 experienced just now, would extinguish life.' And when the same individual was expressing to him the bitterness of his grief at the threatening calamity, the Bishop said, — ' It is to me a truly happy moment, and I shall, I trust, be accepted of God, my Saviour and Sanctifler.' His consciousness and his bi'eathing appeared to leave him almost at the same moment: and the spirit parted without agony, to partake^must I not say, in tlie view of the sure covenant of Jehovah — to partake of eternal and unmingled felicity." Bishop Kemp was married, in 1790, to Elizabeth, daughter of Capt. Edward Noel, of Castlehaven, Dorchester County, Md. They had three children, one of whom, an only son, is now (1854) a member of the Balti- more Bar, and was for several years Chief Justice of the Orphan's Court for Baltimore County. Mrs. Kemp died on the 14th of August, 1826. Besides several Episcopal Charges, &c., Bishop Kemp published the following : — A Sermon on the Death of Washington, 1800. A Sermon before the Convention of the Diocese of Maryland, 1803. A Sermon before the Masonic Fraternity, 1806. A Tract on Conversion, 1807. Letters in Vindication of Episcopacy, 1808. A Sermon on Death-bed Repentance, 1815. A Sermon on the Death of Bishop Claggett, 1816. An Address to the Diocese on the Death of Bishop Claggett, 1817. A Sermon before the General Convention, 1821. An Address to the Stu- dents of the General Theological Seminary, New York, 1825. FROM SAMUEL J. DONALDSON, ESQ. Baltimore, December 7, 1864. Rev. and dear Sir: It gives me pleasure, in accordance with your expressed wish, to give you some, though imperfect, idea of the character of the late Dr. James Kemp, formerly Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church of the Diocese • of Maryland, with whom, in former j'ears, I was intimately acquainted, and for whom I entertained the highest aifection and respect. Sliortly aft«r his removal to Baltimore, in the latter part of the year 1812, though much my senior in years, he sought my acquaintance as a descendant of one whom he had highly valued; and, from that period until the moment of his death, when I was ariiis bedside, our intercourse was of the most intimate and confidential kind, and never interrupted by any circumstance calculated to interfere in the least degree with the mutual kindness existing between us. I loved, revered and respected him, and firmly believe that every feeling of my heart towards him was fully reciprocated. JAMES KEMP. 377 Bishop Kemp combined great simplicit}' of manners with n, fine .ind cuUivatcd understanding, which made him a most agreeable companion, while tliey served to attach him more closely to his immediate friends. Social in his disposition, and devoid of that austerity which too often keeps good men apart, he was acces- sible to all; and I have frequently known him, in his hours of relaxation, by his agreeable manners, to draw around him, with pleasure, persons of very different tendencies and opinions from those he hiniself possessed ; and yet, in doing so, he never lessened the dignity of his deportment, or for a moment swerved from those principles he professed as a Christian and a Churchman. For some years before his death, when not prevented by more serious engagements, he was in the habit of spending his Monday evenings at my house; and this becoming known to others of my friends, induced them informally to assemble there, on such occasions, for the purpose of enjoying his society. lie was full of anecdote, and told a story remarkably well, and with considerable humour, so as to inter- est as well as amu.se his hearers; but withal preserved a, dignified simplicit}'- which drew towards him the respect as well as the attention of all who listened to him. As Hector of St. Paul's Parish in this city, he was truly beloved by his flock, as he was sincerely attached and devoted to them. Ilis sermons were plain and practical, within the comprehension of all classes, and at the same time replete with good sense and Christian feeling and principle — not pretending to the char- acter of an orator, he yet impressed on his people, in a solemn and affectionate manner, their Christian duties. It was not his wont to attack and denounce by name any particular worldly amusement, however objectionable it might be; but he preferred endeavouring to imbue his people with Christian feeling, by which he believed they would be Christians in practice. As President of the Bible Society of Baltimore, where, in the Board of Managers he was surrounded by, and brought into close communication with, persons of various religious denominations, he enjoyed the confidence and respect of his associates, among whom were the Rev. Dr. Inglis of the Presbyterian Church, the Rev. Dr. Dun- can of the Associate Reformed Church, and others not now recollected. As a Jlan, Bishop Kemp possessed qualities of sterling worth. As a Friend, he was sincere and ardent, while, to his immediate family he was a kind, affectionate and considerate husband and father. The Laity of his Diocese generally, and a majority of his Clergy, were warmly attached to him, and his death was regarded as a calamity in the Church over which he had presided for more than eleven years. Trusting that this short sketch of the character of my lamented friend may be of some slight service to you in the work you are now engaged in, I am, dear Sir, Very respectfully yours, SAMUEL J. DONALDSON. Vol V. 48 378 EPISCOPALIAN. RT. REV. JOHN CROES, D. D* 1790—1832. John Oboes t was born at Elizaibethtown, N. J., on the 1st of June, 1762. His father, Jacob Croes, was a native of Poland, but received his education, which was only a very limited one, in Holland. On his passage to America, he became acquainted with Christiana Charlotte Reigart, who was from Germany; and their acquaintance resulted, soon after their reach- ing this country, in her becoming his wife. They settled first at Eliza- bethtown, N. J. ; he pursuing some mechanical business, and she engaging in the business of baking, in which she became so famous that her cakes were an article of export to the West Indies. When John was eleven years old, the family removed to Newark, which continued to be his resi- dence chiefly until he had reached early manhood. He was religiously educated, and began early to evince a serious and reflecting habit of mind, which led him ultimately to choose the ministry as his profession. Hi.s father designed originally to educate him to a mechanical trade ; for though he discovered an early fondness for study, the circumstances of the family were not such as to enable his father to offer him, at his expense, the advantages of a liberal education. He, however, so far yielded to the wishes of his son, as to give his consent that he should acquire an educa- tion at his own expense ; and of this permission the son eagerly availed himself. He was, however, quickly arrested in his course of study by the commencement of the Revolution, being called upon to render active ser- vice in the cause of his country. He served, at intervals, from the sum- mer of 1778 to that of 1781, always as Orderly Sergeant, and sometimes as Quarter Master. Besides the regular service to which he was appointed, he repeatedly engaged in voluntary expeditions in different parts of the State of New Jersey. On one occasion, he slept in the Court House at Newtown, Sussex, then an out of the way place ; and thirty years after, visited, by appointment, the same spot, and, according to his Report, preached in June, and also in October, 1808, to "a small congregation assembled in the Presbyterian meeting-house." Though he was never in any severe engagements, during the Revolution, he was more than once in circumstances of great peril, and seemed to take much delight, in after life, in giving an account of his military experience. At the close of the Revolution, he seems to have relinquished temporarily the idea of a classical education, and engaged for some little time in mer- cantile concerns ; but this employment proving distasteful to him, he resumed his studies, and prosecuted them with great zeal and diligence. Having become quite a proficient in the Latin and Greek Languages, he engaged in the business of instruction, chiefly with a view to procure the means of support, while he should be in a course of immediate preparation •Churohman, 1832, 1849.— Evergreen, 1845.— MSS. from Uev. R. B. Croes. t The name is believed to have been originally Kniitz. The Bishop always pronounced bis name aa if it were spelled Croose. JOHN CEDES. 379 for the ministry. He, however, continued his labours as a teacher, while he was pursuing his theological studies. During his residence in Newark, he enjoyed, in a high degree, the friend- bhip of the venerable Dr. McWhorter, then the Pastor of the Presbyterian Church in that place. The high estimate which the Doctor had of him may be inferred from the following extracts from a letter which he addressed to Judge Kirkpatrick of New Brunswick, many years after this, in answer to some inquiries he had made concerning Mr. Croes, in behalf of the Trustees of Queen's College who were looking out for a suitable instructor, and of the Vestry of Christ Church who were desirous of securing a Kec- tor : — After telling the Judge that he had been prejudiced in his favour from a boy, but that he would endeavour to be just in expressing an opinion, he says, — " Mr. Croes was bred an Episcopalian, and has uniformly, with- out superstition or bigotry, adhered to the peculiarities of his own religion. If your Episcopalians wish for a man of the first abilities, prudence, and discretion in this State, let them exert themselves to get him." His lite- rary qualifications are then enlarged upon ; and the Doctor adds, — " He possesses the gift of government in a high degree ; he governs a school in such a manner as to acquire the esteem and affection of boys, without undue rigour or extreme severity. You will find him a man of sense and reading, but a certain vail of modesty sheds an obscurity over his abilities and accomplishments." In the summer of 1789, he visited the town of Swedesborough, in Glou- cester County, N. J., and accepted an invitation to act as lay reader for a few months in the Episcopal Church in that place. On the 28th of Feb- ruary, 1790, Bishop White of Pennsylvania ordained him as Deacon, in St. Peter's Church, Philadelphia, and he immediately became the stated minister of the congregation. On the 4th of March, 1792, he was admit- ted by the same Prelate and in the same church, to the Order of Priests, and then was regularly instituted Rector of the church. When Mr. Croes took charge of the church at Swedesborough, it was in an exceedingly unprosperous state, the place of worship being unfinished, and the attendance on public worship sparse and irregular. By his perse- vering efforts, however, he succeeded in completing the edifice, in greatly increasing the number of worshippers, and in raising the church to a degree of prosperity which it had never before enjoyed. Here he continued for twelve years. His salary was small ; and he sustained, shortly after his settlement here, a loss of several hundred dollars, which was all or nearly all that he had ; but he bore the loss with great fortitude, and by rigid economy succeeded not only in recovering himself, but in giving to three of his sons a liberal education. After sustaining the loss referred to, he returned temporarily to the employment of teaching, which he carried on in connection with the ministry ; and his own sons were of the number of his pupils. Mr. Croes first appeared in the Convention of New Jersey, in the year 1792; and from that time, with one or two exceptions, which occurred in consequence of ill health, or other circumstances which he could not con- trol, he attended all the Conventions for forty years. In 1793, he was chosen a deputy to the G-eneral Convention, and a member of the Standing 380 EPISCOPALIAN. Committee ; — offices vhioh he continued to hold, with but one intermission, till he was elected Bishop. In the year 1801, Mr. Croes resigned his charge at Swedesborough, and accepted the Rectorship of Christ Church, New Brunswick, to which he had been invited ; and, at the same time, took charge of the Academy at New Brunswick, and of St. Peter's Church at Spotswood. The Academy was the remains of what had been Queen's College, (now Eutger's Col- lege,) the exercises of which had been suspended for several years. Both churches flourished under his administration ; and the Academy, which numbered at the commencement only fifteen pupils, gradually increased to the number of seventy, and enjoyed a high reputation throughout the State. He resigned the charge of the Academy in 1808, having, by his exertions, prepared the way for the resuscitation of the College. From this time he was at liberty to devote himself exclusively to the duties of his profession. In 1811, Mr. Croes was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Columbia College, New York. In 1814, he was chosen to preside over the House of Clerical and Lay Deputies in General Convention, and the next year he was chosen Bishop of New Jersey. The election of a Bishop for the Diocese of New Jersey had been long agitated by the Con- vention, and as early as 1800, an appointment had actually been made, though, for some reasons, the individual chosen (Rev. Uzal Ogden, D. D., of Newark) was never consecrated. In June, 1815, Dr. Croes was elected to the Episcopate of Connecticut ; but, in consideration of the strong ties that bound him to New Jersey, and particularly to his own church in New Brunswick, he felt constrained to decline the honour. It was probably in consequence of this that the Episcopalians of New Jersey took measures immediately to bring the subject of an election of Bishop before their next Convention, which was held at Trenton on the 15th of August following ; the result of which was that Dr. Croes was chosen. His Consecration took place in St. Peter's Church, Philadelphia, on the 19th of November ensu- ing, Bishop White officiating on the occasion, assisted by Bishops Kemp and Hobart. From the time of his Consecration, he engaged with exemplary diligence in the duties of his new office, and commenced a system of Visitation which he intended should be annual. This he nearly accomplished until the last two years of his life, when he found himself disabled, in a measure, from the infirmities induced by disease and advancing age. In May, 1831 he attended the Annual Convention of the Diocese for the last time, which held its session in the town of Spotswood, the scene of his early ministra- tions. In the Address which he delivered on that occasion, he referred in a touching manner to the fact of his having been the subject of a distress- ing malady, which, for nine months, had rendered all active service extremely burdensome to him. On the 20th of September following, he presided at the annual meeting of the Board of Directors of the " Episcopal Society of New Jersey for the promotion of Christian Knowledge and Piety," which was held at Elizabethtown. Shortly after his return home, he had a renewed attack of disease, which occasioned him much sufi'ering during the following winter. But so intent was he upon the discharge of his duty, that he summoned resolution and strength enough to hold an ordination in JOHN CROES. 381 Christ Church, New Brunswick, on the 28th of December, which was the last act of his public administration as Bishop. From this time he was confined to his house, and chiefly to his room, though his interest in the concerns of his Diocese never flagged ; and when the time for the annual meeting of the Convention returned, in May, 1832, though he could not be present, he addressed the Convention by a letter, in which he gave them an account of his Episcopal ministrations during the year, and tendered them the assurance of his afi'eotionate regard. This communication closed his official labours. In the immediate prospect of death he evinced great tran- quillity ; and a few days before the event, the Communiou was, at his request, administered to him. He died on the 2Gth of July, 1832, in the Bovcuty-first year of his age. Bishop Croes published, besides several Charges to his Clergy, a Sermon entitled "The Duty and the Interest of contributing liberally to the pro- motion of Religious and Benevolent Institutions," preached in St. Peter's Church, Philadelphia, at the Opening of the General Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America, 1823. On the 21st of May, 1785, he was married to Patty, daughter of Elihu and Hannah (Mix) Crane, of Newark. They had eight children, — five sons and three daughters. Two of the sons became clergymen in the Episcopal Church ; one of whom, the Eev. Robert B. Croes, still survives. The other son of Bishop Croes who entered the ministry, the Rev. John Cedes, Jr., was born September 22, 1787 ; was graduated at the College of New Jersey, in 180G ; and subsequently assisted his father for a while in conducting the Grammar School of Queen's College. He was ordained Deacon in Trinity Church, New York, on the Festival of St. John the Baptist, 1809, by Bishop Benjamin Moore, and Priest, on the 1st of October, 1811, by Bishop Hobart. He commenced his labours in the ministry, officiating in St. Peter's Church, Freehold ; Christ Church, Shrewsbury ; and Christ Church, Middletown ; in New Jersey. He became Hector of Christ Church, Shrewsbury, and continued for thirteen years, greatly respected and beloved, in that relation. On leaving Shrewsbury, he spent a few months in New Brunswick, and then became the Rector of St. Paul's Church, Patterson, N J., where he remained three years. The next two years he was in Newark ; and the two following in New Bruns- wick, sharing with his venerable father, who was beginning to feel the infirmities of age, the duties of his pastoral charge. Shortly after the death of the Bishop, this son succeeded him as Rector of the parish, and continued such for eight years. The last nine years of his life he spent at Keyport ; and he had but just left that place, and made his temporary residence at Brooklyn, where, and in the adjoining parishes on Long Island, he was usefully occupied In occasional services, when he was pros- trated by the illness (of the nature of cholera) which brought him to his grave in two weeks. He died on the 18th of August, 1849, at the age of sixty-two years, and after a ministry of nearly forty. He received many testimonies of the respect and confidence of his brethren, — such as being repeatedly elected a Delegate to the General Convention, being appointed a Trustee of the General Theological Seminary, Secretary of the Conven- tion of the Diocese, Member of the standing Committee, and Treasurer 382 EPISCOPALIAN. of certain important trusts of the Church. In the Convention of 1832, at the election of the Diocesan, which resulted in Dr. Doane's being chosen, Mr. Croes was at first the most prominent candidate. In September, 1812, he was married to Eleanor, daughter of Rulef Van Mater, of Monmouth, N. J. They had three sons and five daughters. FROM ARCHER GIFFORD, ESQ. Newark, N. J., 19th November, 1855. Rev. and dear Sir: My acquaintance with Bishop Croes commenced at an early age, and when he was in the full vigour of his intellect and the prime of his usefulness. He was then Principal of the Academy at New Brunswick, — an institution in high repute, and Rector of Christ Church in that city. Although I had often seen him in my youth, it was not until after he was consecrated Bishop that I became in any degree intimate with him. I used, in my early boyhood, to hear interesting incidents of his life related by my father, who was associated with him, when they were young men, in the Revolutionary War. He represented him as very amiable, ingenuous, and extremely conscientious — traits of character which recommended him to the officers, and prevented his engaging with others in many of the rough amusements of that period. I have also learned from one of his pupils still living, at a very advanced age, that while he was employed for a short time in mercantile pursuits in this place, and also near Hackensack, in Bergen County, he devoted much of his leisure to reading, and availed himself of every means of intellectual culture within his reach. Mr. Croes was brought into early and intimate relations with Dr. McWhor- ter, the Presbyterian Clergyman of this place, who fully appreciated his talents and virtues, and showed himself ready to assist him by every means in his power. lie manifested his candour and disinterestedness especially by falling in with his predilections for the Episcopal Church, and giving him letters of intro- duction to several gentlemen of New Brunswick and Philadelphia, designed to facilitate his obtaining Orders. The difficulties which Mr. 0. encountered in early life had undoubtedly a verj^ important influence in forming his character, lie used often, as one of the lessons which had been taught him by his own experience, to urge the necessity of perseverance and singleness of aim in the prosecution of any important object; and on one occasion he observed to a friend of mine whom he was advising in respect to his future course, that he had never attempted any thing which he had not accomplished. The remark was not made in a boasting spirit, but was designed merely to encourage my young friend to keep his faculties in vigorous and healthful exercise. Bishop Croes was in stature about six feet, and of a portly frame. His dress and mien gave him that staid and venerable appearance that may be often seen represented in pictures of the Addison age, and well corresponded with the sanctity and native simplicity of his character. He always seemed to have special regard for his profession, and studied to make all his acquirements auxiliary and subservient to it. His sermons were remarkable for presenting truth in a man- ner adapted to the different ages, characters and circumstances of his auditors; and even when treating of moral duties, they were never deficient in spiritual unction. While he gave strong views of the vices of the age, he never did it in a way to offijnd the taste or shook the sensibilities of his hearers. His style of writing was simple and natural, perspicuous and energetic, with no approach to any thing florid or declamatory. His audience, if it were not their own fault, would always find themselves instructed by his discourses; and the effect of them was not a little increased by the patriarchal dignity and impressive earnest- ness with which they were delivered. JOHN CROES. 383 I have most frequently met with Bishop Croes, and observed his character and deportment, when he presided at the Diocesan Conventions of our State. On tlicso occasions he uniformly exhibited a most becoming demeanour, alvva3-s conducting the business with great discretion, dignity and impartiality. During many years' attendance as a delegate, I cannot recall a single instance of the semblance of unkindness or unfairness on his part towards any individual, or of the least want of respect on the part of any individual towards him. Bishop Croes, in his ecclesiastical polity, was not exactly what is now termed High Church or Low Church; but he always maintained the distinctive princi- ples of the Protestant Episcopal Church with firmness and consistencj', while yet he never made himself offensive to Christians of other communions. In all his intercourse, whether private and social or oflScial, he was a model of a quiet, considerate and kindly spirit. His life was a perpetual advocacy and enforcement of the great principles and precepts of the Go.spel. He never inter- fered vvitli the concerns of others, though he was always upon the alert to minister to their happiness. In his family he was a strict disciplinarian, and withal a pattern of economy, while yet he was a loving and tender father, and was a fine example of a generous hospitality. His sense of obligation, not less than his love of doing good, kept him active amidst infirmities and decay, in which he might have reasonably sought repose from all labour; and he went down gradually and gently to his grave, leaving as a legacy to his family, to his diocese, to the world, a character pre-eminently "honest, just, pure, lovely, and of good report." Respectfully yours, A. 6IFF0RD. WILLIAM HARRIS, D. D * 1791—1829. William Harris was a son of Deacon Daniel and Sarah (Church) Har- ris, and was born at Springfield, Mass., on the 29th of April; 1765. In the line of his ancestry are to be found William Pynchon, the first settler of Springfield, and George Wyllis, Governor pi Connecticut. He was fitted for College under the instruction of the Rev. Mr. Church, t the Congregational minister in Hartland, Conn. He entered Harvard College in 1782, and graduated in 1786. After his graduation, he devoted himself, for a while, to the study of Theology, and in due time was licensed as a minister of the Congregational Church, in which he had been educated. A delicate state of health, however, soon obliged him to abandon the exercise of the ministry ; in consequence of which, he commenced the study of Medicine, under the direction of Dr. Holyoke of Salem. While he was thus engaged, he became acquainted with the Rev. Mr. Oliver,* an Episco- • Chr. Jour., I829.-MS. from his son. Rev. Dr. B. W.Harris. ' t Aaron Chdech was graduated at Yale College in 1765; was settled as Pastor of the Con- ■reeational Church in Hartland in 1780; resigned his charge in 1814; and died m 1823. and remained in that capacity i — ^ . , ^. , o . ordained, first Deacon, and then (September 18, 1785) Priest, by Bishop Seabury, and served 384 EPISCOPALIAN. pal clergyman of Marblehead. Ttis gentleman put into his hands a Com- pend of Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, which was the means of direct- ing his attention to the principles of the Protestant Episcopal Church. The result of his inquiries on the subject was a conviction that the Doc- trine and Discipline of that Church were sustained by Scriptural authority, and that it was his duty to connect himself with it. Shortly after this, the re-establishment of his health led him to return to the exercise of his chosen profession, though in a new ecclesiastical connection. He was admitted by Bishop Provoost to the Holy Order of Deacons, October 16, 1791, in Trinity Church, New York; and, on the following Sunday, to that of Priests in St. George's Chapel, in the same city. In the course of the next month, he took charge of St. Michael's Church, Marblehead, having from 1788 had charge of the Academy in that place. He officiated both as teacher and preacher until 1802, when he accepted the Rectorship of St. Mark's Church in the city of New York, and removed thither in February of that year. He soon after established and conducted, in the neighbourhood of his Eectory, an excellent classical school. In 1811, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity, from Harvard University, and from Columbia College. On the resignation of the Presidency of Columbia College by Bishop Moore, in 1811, he was chosen to that office, and he held it, in connection with his Rectorship, until 1816. At that time, the office of Provost, on whom a portion of the duties of President had devolved, being discon- tinued, and the public labours of the ministry being unfavourable to his health, he resigned his Rectorship, and afterwards devoted himself exclu- sively to the duties of the Presidency. Dr. Harris' health had been declining during several of his last years, though he was able to attend to his duties in connection with the College until within a short period of his death. He suffered much from an asthmatical affection, and the disease of which he died was of a pulmonary kind. His son, the Rev. Dr. Robert William Harris, thus describes the scene of his departure : — " He was looking forward to the last great change, and preparing for it for some time before it took place. I was much with him, and at his request often offered prayers at his jjedside. [I was ordained while he lay on his death-bed]. His end was quietness and peace, even as his life had been gentle and without guile. There was not a struggle or a groan. So calm and composed were his features that he seemed as asleep ; and so instantaneous was the change at the midnight hour, that ere we could reach him, the breath had left him, — my brother, who was a medical man, being alone at his bedside. So many years have passed since my father died, that I cannot remember his particular expressions at that solemn period. But the last hours of his life, in their serenity and quiet hope, are still bright before my mind." He died at Columbia College, on the 18th of October, 1829. In 1791, Mr. Harris was married to Elizabeth, daughter of the Rev. Jonas Clark, an eminent Congregational cWgyman of Lexington, Mass. that Church until September, 1786, when he accepted a call from St. Michael's Church, Marble- head. In 1791, he was Rector of the Churches of Johnstown and Fort Hunter, N. Y. In 1795, he became Rector of St. Thomas' Church, Baltimore, where he died January 25, 1797, aged forty-eight years. WILLIAM HARRIS. 385 They had seven children, the two youngest of whom only were sons. One of them [Josiah Dwight) was graduated at Columbia College in 1822, was a Surgeon in the army, distinguished for his ability and professional skill, and died at Fort Smith, Arkansas, in 1833. The other (Robert William) was graduated at Columbia College in 1825, and is a clergyman in the Episcopal Church, now (1855) settled at White Plains, N. Y. Dr. Harris published a Sermon before the Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church of Massachusetts, 1794 ; a Sermon before the Conven- tion of the Protestant Episcopal Church of New York; 1810 ; and a Fare- well Sermon at St. Mark's, New York, 1816. I had the privilege of a slight acquaintance with Dr. Harris during the latter part of his life, and was always much impressed by his serene, kindly, and yet dignified, manner, and especially by the beautiful simplicity and modesty that breathed in his conversation and were impressed upon his countenance. I once had occasion to put his kindness to the test, and no man could have rendered a favour more promptly, or cordially, or gracefully. In the first years of my ministry, I was thrown much among the'friends of his early life, but I never met with one who was not prepared to render a warm testi- mony to the purity and elevation of his character. FROM THE REV. J. M. MATHEWS, D. D. New Tork, Mai-ch 2, 1852. My dear Sir: I first became acquainted with Dr. Harris about the year 1812, a short time before he was translated from the Rectorship of St. Mark's Church, to the Presidency of Columbia College. From that period till the close of his life, my intercourse with him was frequent, familiar, and to myself always agreeable. And notwithstanding we belonged to different religious denominations, that cir- cumstance, I am sure, never had any effect upon our relations beyond what was strictly ecclesiastical. Dr. Harris' personal appearance, mind, heart, whole character, were all of sml piece. In his person, he was of about the middle size and well proportioned.. His face was rather unusually pallid, but his features were regular, his eye expressive of great kindness and benignity, and his whole countenance spoke of a warm and generous heart. Nor was this by any means a false index; forsuclL was the gentleness of his spirit, and such the amenity of his manners, that„soi far as 1 know, all who knew him esteemed him, and all who knew him intimately loved him. He delighted in conferring favours, not merely where he could da it without inconvenience, but even where it subjected him to a sacrifice: it was-avi— dently a luxury to him to do good in any way. His mind was distinguished rather for correctness, clearness, and symmetry, than for extraordinary strength.. He was a good classical scholar, having enjo3'ed the advantages of an education at Harvard College, where classical learning has always been held in the highest estimation. As a preacher. Dr. Harris did not belong to the class of remarkably stirring and overpowering pulpit orators; but he was mild and winning in his manner, chaste and correct in his style, while his sermons wej-e not wanting in evangelical truth, and were evidently written with great care. I never heard from him any thing like a startling burst of eloquence, and I doubt whether any one else ever did; for this was not his manner; but there was an air of dignity and sincerity about him, which, when taken in connection with his good sense, his uncom- monly perspicuous and pure style, his appropriate and excellent thoughts, his. benevolent and open expression of countenance, and I may addi, his- acknoW'- Vol. V. 49 386 EPISCOPALIAN. ledged excellence of character, rendered him a highly acceptable preacher, as well to the plainer as the more intelligent class of hearers. As President of the College, Dr. Harris was greatly revered and beloved. The students looked up to him as a father, and he, in turn, regarded them with an affectionate solicitude that was truly parental. Their intellectual and moral improvement, their happiness in this life and the future, were evidently among the objects that lay nearest his heart. I was myself a Trustee of the College during several of the last years of his Presidency, and had a good opportunity of know- ing how highly he was esteemed in all his relations to the institution. Dr. Harris lived and died without the semblance of a spot upon liis character. He had the respect and confidence of the whole community. He was, in the best sense of the word, a Christian geiitleman. As ever, most truly yours, J. M. MATHEWS. FROM JOHN MoVICKAR, D. D., PSOFESSOB IN COIiUMBIA COLLEGE. Columbia College, New York, 21 June, 1858. Dear Sir: I cheerfully comply with your request that I should furnish you some general estimate of the character of my lamented friend, the late Bev. Dr. Harris, President of Columbia College. I knew him intimately for many years, and from 1817 till his death was officially associated with him in the instruction and government of the College. I also delivered an Address at his funeral; and that makes it the more easy for me to comply with your request, as that Address was written when my impressions of his character were more distinct and vivid than they are now, after the lapse of nearly thirty years. I shall only say in general of his intellectual character that he had an uncommonly well balanced and a highly cultivated mind, and shall limit myself chiefly to those fine moral ■qualities, which constituted emphatically the charm and the power of his life. I would say then, first of all, few men surpassed him in singleness of heart. It was not common openness or candour of character; perhaps in him it was rather marked by reserve; but it was a certain genuine simplicity and truth of .mind, which admitted of no double motive either in his words or actions. It ■was childlike-in its purest and best sense; and while it perhaps unfitted him for the busy, bustling intrigues of life, it qualified him for that higher station to which the words of our blessed Saviour alluded, when he took little children in his arms and said, " Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven." As a consequence of this, I may safely say that he had not an enemy on earth; every man was his friend; every one who knew him rejoiced in all the good that befel him, and sym- pathized in the sorrows of a heart that knew no guile. Nor did this trait add only to the amiableness of his character; it greatly increased his powers, since it led him on all occasions to give himself up to his duty with that devotion of time and thought which could not but double their value. This was especially remarkable in the duties of his station as President of the College. In this he was not like other men. It was not merely the con- scientious performance of duty. Other men do this, who yet find time for varied occupations; but with Dr. Harris there was an absorption of heart, a solicitude which cannot easily be paralleled in the history of official station— it was like the devotion of the student to his favourite pursuit, or of the worldly man to his interest; his time, his thoughts, his very heart, were centered in the College; for it alone he seemed to live; neither fortune, nor fame, nor personal enjoy- ments seemed to have any attractions for him, or to receive at his hands even ;their justifiable share of attention. The College was to him all in all; to its WILLIAM HARRIS.. 387 best interests he devoted his life, and for them I verily believe he would have been content to resign it. Another leading trait of his character was meekness. No man could approach him without being impressed with it, and it was in beautiful accordance, I may say, with his benevolent countenance and venerable mien. He bore his honours .so meekly that all men yielded him a willing reverence, and he sliamed those who rendered to him even the slightest services, by the undue value which his grateful heart set upon them. This gave, on all occasions, to his language and manners, as well as to his opinions, a certain quiet, unpretending dignity, which those who approached him would have found it as difficult to break through, as it was far from their inclination to do so. It was accompanied also by an equa- nimity which I rarely ever saw disturbed, perhaps I should say never, except by what touched the cord of his religious feelings, or that honest pride he felt in the institution over which he presided. * Nor was this placidness of temper the valueless fruit of a life untried. Dr. Harris was tried beyond the lot of ordinary men. In the arduous station which he occupied, while he found many high and noble gratifications in the affection- ate reverence and subsequent gratitude and attachment of those generous spirits who grew up under his care, he found what is inseparable from such a station, many harassing and anxious cares. He had to contend with the errors of thoughtless youth, too often with the petulance of ungoverned tempers, and sometimes even with base ingratitude from those whom he was seeking, with parental kindness, to lead into the paths of honour and virtue. If, on such occasions, severity ever took place of gentleness, it was only when some trait appeared of a bad heart, or a spirit dead to the sense of religion — then indeed his rebuke was sharp and even terrible; but it was the anger of a parent, which the tears and penitence of the offender could change in a moment into love. This beautiful trait of meekness in Dr. Harris' character, I may be allowed to say, was often greatly misunderstood. It had in it no marks of fee- bleness. It is true that, averse to the rude collision of temper, which the busi- ness of the world often demands, he lived little in the public eye, withdrew himself from all needless contest, and retired within the circle of his own peace- ful thoughts and quiet home; but this, which some men misnamed weakness, was rather to be esteemed the wisdom of a peaceful spirit, for in the perform- ance of his duty no man was bolder. Deliberate in making up his opinions, and modest in the expression of them, — he was yet steady in their maintenance, and once resolved, it was not words merely or authority that could move him; and when called to put them in practice in the administration of discipline, his manner was marked by that happy union of mildness and decision, which intim- idated the rebellious, while it disarmed them of all hostile feeling. Nor were these his only trials — he was tried in private life, with the cares and anxieties of a large and dependant family, if that indeed could be called to him a trial, which he seemed never to feel as such, for his children were to him ever a blessing; and as to the anxieties of a narrow fortune, he seemed to transfer all that care to the kind Providence of God. Though he passed through a long life under circumstances that would have filled most men's minds with anxious and distracting disquietude, yet he ever went through them with a confiding, pious, contented spirit; and God blessed him in so doing. "Want threatened, but at a distance; good friends arose when friends were needed. Year followed year with comfortable means of support; and though at his death he left little of this world's goods to his children, he left them what was incomparably better, — the legacy of a holy example and an honoured name. Nor did his equanimity forsake him under those harder trials which come home more directly to the heart, — I mean domestic affliction and bereavement. Upon few have these fallen heavier — few have more painfully known what it was to 3g8 EPISCOPALIAN. mourn, but fewer still have mourned with less of worldly sorrow. The partner of his life separated by long disease from all participation of its pleasures; two children sinking untimely into the tomb, at the very age when a ripening mind is beginning to repay to a parent the cares and anxieties of their youth — these afflictions were borne by him in a meek and Christian spirit — they perhaps added soberness to his mind, but they never impressed upon it sadness, and a cheerful and thankful spirit was ever shining forth amid all his troubles. Piety of spirit was another leading feature of his mind. In this also was there something peculiar. Many men are pious by an act of reflection. With them reason brings in religion; but it was not so with this excellent man; with him a religious spirit seemed almost like a felicity of nature; like a constitutional sentiment, which it would have cost him as much labour to subdue, as it does those less favoured by nature to excite it. Of the instinctive warmth of this feeling his occasional poetical eifusions afford a striking and beautiful illustra- tion. They are like the poetry of those pure and early days, when poetry was devoted to its first and noblest theme, to prayer and praise — sometimes they appear in the overflowing of a grateful heart; sometimes as if written amid troubles, in the spirit, and almost in the language, of the Eoyal Psalmist — " that I had wings like a dove, for then would I flee away and be at rest." But his religion was deeper than a vague instinctive feeling. It was confirmed by much study, by reflection, and by all the habits of a Christian life. His reading turned much upon the older divines of our Church. Some of them were always to be found upon his table, and upon their model beseems to have formed himself in style as well as in doctrines. His own discourses were plain, serious and persuasive; they came up to a celebrated critic's demand of what sermons should be — "the good sense of a good man;" and as delivered by him, they had much of that power which flows from an earnest simplicity of expression; they had the eloquence of sincerity, and went to the heart simply because they came from it. Dr. Harris was a Churchman upon principle and examination. The Book of Common Prayer and Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, he used to say, had made him an Episcopalian. On the great doctrine of the atonement, not only was his reason satisfied, but his heart clung to it as the anchor of his hopes. Dr. Harris' death was a fitting close to his devout, exemplary and useful life. It was full of calm and humble trust in his Redeemer, and cheering anticipation of the glory that was to follow — such as might be expected to crown the days of an old and faithful disciple. Trusting that the above recollections may answer your worthy object, I remain, respectfully, Your obedient servant, JOHN McTICKAK. DAVID BUTLER. 339 DAVID BUTLER, D. D * 1792—1842, David Butler was born at Harwinton, Conn., in the year 1763. At an early age he was apprenticed to a mechanical trade, which, however, he left, for a time, to serve as a soldier in the War of the Kevolution. On arriving at the proper age, he commenced business for himself, and had a fair prospect of being successful. Having formed a matrimonial connec- tion, and settled down, every thing seemed to indicate that he had taken his direction for life. But he had an inquiring mind, and was very fond of reading ; and to this most of the leisure he could command especially in the evening, was devoted. Though he had been educated a Congrega- tionalist, his mind received a strong bias in favour of the Episcopal Church, partly as the result of his own reading and reflection, and partly from his intimacy with the Rev. Ashbel Baldwin, who was, for many years, a promi- nent Episcopal clergyman in Connecticut. He became deeply interested also in the character of the venerable Bishop Seabury ; and this also not improbably had something to do in aiding and maturing his convictions on this subject. By whatever means the change may have been effected, h^ became ultimately thoroughly convinced that Episcopacy is of Divine author- ity ; and this conviction was soon followed by a resolution, not only to come within the pale, but to enter the ministry, of the Episcopal Church. Accordingly, after having pursued his studies for some time under the direction of his friend, the Rev. Mr. Baldwin, he was admitted to the Order of Deacons, by Bishop Seabury, in Trinity Church, New Haven, on the 10th of June, 1792 ; and on the following day, he was licensed by the same Bishop " to perform the oflSce of a Deacon, in the Church of Con- necticut, and wherever else he might be lawfully called thereto ; and also to preach on all proper occasions, more particularly at Guilford, South Guilford, and Killing worth." Bishop Seabury also admitted him to Priest's Orders, in Christ Church, Middletown, on the 9th of June of the following year. For some time after his ordination as Deacon, he officiated at Guilford and Killingworth ; but in June, 1794, he became Rector of St. Michael's Church, Litchfield. Here he continued till February, 1799, when he resigned his charge, and removed to Reading, but still supplied the Church in Litchfield, and also that in Danbury. In 1804, he accepted a call to the Reetorate of St. Paul's Church in Troy. During several of the first years of his residence there, he gave a portion of his time to the Episcopal Church in Lansingburgh, then in its infancy ; but he ultimately confined his labours entirely to the Church in Troy, — not, however, to the exclusion of a general superintendence of the interests of the Episcopal Church, throughout the whole region. Not only his own particular church greatly increased under his ministry, but other churches were formed by his side, •Bishop Doane's Fun. Serm. — Calendar, 1854.— Communications from Hon. Judge Buel, Dr, Brinsm^e, and Mrs. Stephen Warren. 390 EPISCOPALIAN. and an impulse was given in favour of Episcopacy throughout the surround- ing region. In 1832, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Washington (now Trinity) College. Dr. Butler's health became impaired not far from the year 1880, — his disease being an aflFection of the bladder ; and this, in connection with the gradual inroads of age, led him, in 1834, to resign his pastoral charge. He, however, still retained an undiminished interest in the welfare of his people, and besides officiating frequently at Marriages, Baptisms, and Funerals, he was always ready, whenever the convenience of his successor might require, or other circumstances render it expedient, to occupy the pulpit. It was only two weeks before his death, that he supplied the pul- pit of a neighbouring parish. His death was not occasioned by the disease from which he had suffered so long and so much ; but by a fit of apoplexy, which terminated in three or four days. His mind, during this period, was for the most part in a bewildered and comatose state, though he signified to Bishop Doane, on the Sunday previous to his death, his continued love to the Saviour and interest in his Church. He died on the 11th of July, 1842, in the eighty-fil-st year of his age. His Funeral Sermon was preached by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Doane, and was published. Dr. Butler published several Discourses, among which were a Sermon preached before the Free Masons, in Woodbury, on the Festival of St. John, the Evangelist, 1804 ; a Sermon on I. John iii. 9, published in the Churchman's Magazine, 1807 ; a Sermon at the Institution of the Rev. Mr. Van Home into the Rectorship of the Church at Ballstown, N. Y.; and a Sermon entitled " Reward of the Faithful," published in the Protestant Episcopal Pulpit, 1835. Dr. Butler had a large family of children, the youngest of whom is the Rev. Dr. Clement M. Butler, of Cincinnati. FROM THE HON. DAVID BUEL. Trot, July 27, 1858. My dear Sir : The Rev. Dr. Butler, of whom you ask me to give you some account, was Rector of St. Paul's Church in this city from my early manhood; and, as I was connected with that congregation, I was in intimate relations with him till the close of his life. Indeed, it was chiefly through the instrumentality of my father that he was induced to come to this place. It is easy for me, there- fore, to give you the outline of his character. His personal appearance was at once commanding and attractive. He had a well built, well proportioned frame, indicating a habit of activity and more than common power of endurance. His eye was large and dark, and his whole visage indicative at once of a vigorous intellect and an amiable and genial temper. He lacked the advantages of an early liberal education; and yet he made up for this, in a great degree, by his extensive reading, and a habit of close observation of' men and things. His original powers of mind were undoubtedly of ahigh order; and even the early disadvantages to which I have referred, did not prevent their development in such measure as to secure to him a very prominent place in the Diocese to which he belonged, and in the community in which he lived. He bad remarkably fine social qualities, conversed with great ease and appropriateness, and was always cheerful; while yet he never forgot that he was a clergyman. He had a very kindly and benevolent spirit, and was always ready to confer a DAVID BUTLER. 39J favour vrhonever he had opportunity. In his social intercourse, he by no means confined himself to the people of his own charge, but mingled indiscriminately with different denominations, and he was fortunate, I believe, in possessing the good-will of all. Dr. Butler could not be considered, as may be inferred from what I have already said, a highly accomplished preacher, but he was eminently a sensible preacher. Ilis clear, sound, logical mind impressed itself upon all his discourses, and always furnished material for useful reflection. His views of Church Gov- ernment would rank him with those who are called High Churchmen, and ho occasionally made those views the subject of a vigorous defence in the pulpit; but his ordinary preaching partook little of a controversial character, and was rather practical than doctrinal. Though he was not indifferent to the political concerns of the country, and doubtless had enlightened and well considered views in respect to them, he never, I believe, allowed himself to make them in any way the subject of his public discourses. lie had a clear, manly voice; and though you could not say that his manner in the pulpit was highly cultivated, it was still impressive and dignified, and indicated that his heart was in all his utterances. He read the Service with great solemnity and propriety. While Dr. Butler was always honest and frank in the avowal of his principles, where occasion required, he never needlessly enlisted in disputes with those of different communions. When the present edifice of St. Paul's Church was in progress, speaking to one, with his characteristic ardour, of the magnificence of the building, he was answered with the rather doubtful remark, — •' I hope the Gospel will be preached there." " The very thing," said the Doctor, '• that we are building it for." On another occasion, as he was travelling in a stagecoach, he was not a little annoyed by the efforts of one of the company to draw him into a discussion on Theology, which he assiduously avoided. At last, his fellow- traveller, determined apparently to provoke him, said, — "Your articles, you must allow, are Calvinistio." " Then you," answered the Doctor calmly, " can find no fault with them." His love of peace comes out very strikinglj' in the following extract from a discourse, which he preached towards the close of his life: — " I am now an old man, and such reflections peculiarly become me. And though, from childhood, I have always been fond of peace and quietness, I find it more necessary to my comfort now. It is at present almost my only earthly wish to wind ofi" my days, undisturbed by the turmoil of a restless world. I should prefer ' a dinner of herbs, where love is,' to ' a stalled ox and hatred therewith.' And therefore, as one who has long been connected with you, — which connection is soon approaching its termination, even by death, if nothing else intervenes, — I beseech you by the most endearing motives, not only by the joy it would give me, but by what is much more engaging in its influence, the consolation, of Christ, and the comfort of love, to continue in peace; to do nothing with strife or vain glory." Dr. Butler was unusually attentive to the sick and afflicted — his warm and genial sympathies well fitted him to be a son of consolation. And though he resigned his charge a considerable time before his death, he still showed himself the affectionate friend of his people, and was always ready, by his kind offices, to minister to their comfort by any means in his power. I may safely say that he left behind him a name, which all who had the privilege of his acquaintance delighted to honour. With great esteem, I am your obedient servant, DAVID BUEL. 392 EPISCOPALIAN. JAMES ABERCROMBIE, D. D * 1793—1841. James Abercbombie was born in the city of Philadelphia, January 2,6, 1758. His father, whose name also was James, was a native of Dun- dee, Scotland, was a relative of the celebrated Sir Ralph Abercrombie, was connected with the East India trade, and was an officer of the British Navy. He settled in this country in the year 1753, and was lost in the German ocean in 1760, when his son James was but two years old. This son being an only child, his mother, who is represented as having been a devotedly pious as well as highly intelligent woman, educated him with great care, in the earnest hope and confident expectation that he would, in due time, become a Minister of the Gospel. He had himself also, from early childhood, a predilection for the clerical profession ; and he manifes- ted it as soon as he was able to read, by standing and kneeling on a chair, on Sunday evenings, with a white apron around his shoulders, in imitation of a surplice. Having been instructed, during several of his earliest years, by his mother, he was placed under the care of a Dr. Gardiner, who con- ducted an English Academy; and here he remained for two or three years, until he was removed to the College of Philadelphia. He was graduated in June, 1776 ; and was preparing to embark for England, with a view to qualify himself for Holy Orders, when the breaking out of the War of the Revolution obliged' him to abandon his purpose. After he left College, he gave a portion of his time to the acquisition of several polite accomplishments, in connection with his more substantial literary pursuits. He then commenced the study of Divinity under the direction of the Rev. William (afterwards the venerable Bishop) White, and continued his course of theological reading till the summer of 1778, when an afflictive event suddenly extinguished his long cherished hopes of entering the ministry. He had, for some years, been affected with a dis- ease of the eye-lids ; and, as surgical aid was deemed necessary, Dr. Bond — himself an eminent surgeon — recommended that he should make a voyage to England, in order to avail himself of the highest surgical skill ; but the Executive Council refused to allow him to embark ; and, as the British army shortly after took possession of Philadelphia, Dr. Grant, the Surgeon General, undertook the cure by lunar caustic, to be applied for five hours. Dr. G., dining that day with tho Commander in Chief, General Howe, forgot his appointment, and sufi"ered the caustic to remain several hours too long ; and when it came to be removed, the eye was swollen and black, and apparently in a hopeless state. The forgetful Doctor, however, still promised a cure ; but, as the British army suddenly evacuated the city, he had no further opportunity of making proof of his skill, and the patient fell back into the hands of Dr. Bond, who succeeded, contrary to all expec- tation, in efi'ecting a complete restoration of his sight. * MS. from his eon, Eev. R. M. Aberororabie. — Bishop Delanoey's Fun. Serm. — Hist. Christ Ch. Philad. JAMES ABEKCROMBIE. 393 In consequence of the protracted interruption of his studies, occasioned by this affection of his eyes, together with the impossibility of obtaining ordination, and the improbability of the introduction of the Episcopate into America, he determined at least to suspend his theological studies. This he did in the year 1780. As he was too far advanced in life to enter as an apprentice to any profession, he determined to engage in mercantile pursuits ; and, accordingly, in June, 1783, he formed a partnership with an intimate friend and an active and experienced merchant. In the year 1792, he was chosen a member of the Common Council of the city of Phila- delphia. Having continued in trade ten years, the occupation had become exceedingly irksome to him, and he resolved on making a change. In 1793, he solicited, under the most respectable patronage, the office of Trea- surer of the Mint ; but General Washington, in consequence of a resolution which he had formed not to appoint two persons from the same State, as officers in any one department, felt obliged to deny the application. He subsequently took an office in the Bank of the United States, but found it so totally uncongenial with his taste, that he resigned it, after the labour of a single day. Notwithstanding Mr. Abercrombie had been defeated in his early pur- pose to enter the ministry, he seems never to have entirely abandoned the idea ; and the desire to do so had increased with his advancing years. When he communicated his wish to the Bishop and some of the Clergy, they warmly seconded it ; and he was accordingly examined, and ordained Deacon in St. Peter's Church, Philadelphia, December 29, 1793. His preference was for a country parish ; but his many friends in the city chose to detain him there, and, in compliance with their wishes, he became Assist- ant Minister of Christ Church and St. Peter's, in June, 1794. On the 28th of December following, he received Priest's Orders from Bishop W^hite. In 1797, he was elected a member of the American Philosophical Society. In 1804, he received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the College of New Jersey. In 1806, he officiated once a month in the Parish Churches of Trinity, at Oxford, and All Saints, at Lower Dublin, — both within a few miles of Philadelphia. At these churches he regularly attended every third Sunday during three years ; but ceased to do so when, in 1810, the charter of incorporation of Christ Church and St. Peter's was enlarged by the Legislature so as to comprehend the new Church of St. James. In connection with Dr. Magaw, he founded the Philadelphia Academy, which was opened in the year 1800 ; and, after three years, he became sole Director of the institution. Having held this place several years, he resigned it in 1817, from a conviction that his academic duties interfered too much with his clerical. In 1833, he resigned his charge of Christ Church, and confined his attention to St. Peter's ; but, before the close of the year, he terminated his connection with St. Peter's also, of which he had been forty years the Assistant Minister, Bishop White being Kector. He retired upon an annuity of six hundred dollars, from each of the two churches. He continued to reside in Philadelphia, enjoying the society, and ministering to the gratification, of a large circle of friends, during the residue of his life. He died June 6, 1841, in the eighty-fourth year of his age. Vol. V. 50 394 EPISCOPALIAX. In October, 1783, he was married to Ann Baynton, the daughter of a highly respectable merchant in Philadelphia. She died in January, 1805 — leaving three sons and six daughters. After remaining a widower twelve years, he was married, in June, 1817, to Mary Jane Mason, of a distin- guished family of the Island of Barbadoes, whose mother resided in Philadelphia. By this marriage he had four children, — three daughters and one son. The son is a clergyman of the Episcopal Church ; and another son by the former marriage is a physician, residing near Natchez, Miss. His widow still (1852) survives. One incident in Dr. Abercrombie's experience as a clergyman, in con- nection with the father of his country, is specially worthy of record : and the following account of it was given by the Doctor himself, in a letter to a friend, in 1831, shortly after there had been some public allusion to it : — " With respect to the inquiry you make, I can only state the following facts : — that, as Pastor of the Episcopal Church, observing that, on Sacra- ment Sundays, General Washington, immediately after the desk and pulpit services, went out with the greater part of the congregation, — always leaving Mrs. Washington with the other communicants, — she invarially being one, — I considered it my duty, in a Sermon on Public Worship, to state the unhappy tendency of example, particularly of those in elevated stations, who uniformly turned their backs upon the celebration of the Lord's Supper. I acknowledge the remark was intended for the President ; and as such he received it. A few days after, in conversation with, I believe, a Senator of the United States, he told me he had dined the day before with the President, who, in the course of conversation at the table, said that, on the preceding Sunday, he had received a very just reproof from the pulpit for always leaving the church before the administration of the Sacrament ; that he honoured the preacher for his integrity and candour ; that he had never sufficiently considered the influence of his example, and that he would not again give cause for the repetition of the reproof; and that, as he had never been a communicant, were he to become one then, it would be imputed to an ostentatious display of religious zeal, arising altogether from his ele- vated station. Accordingly, he never afterwards came on the morning of Sacrament Sunday, though, at other times, he was a constant attendant in the morning." I had a slight acquaintance with Dr. Abererombie in the latter years of his life, but I saw only enough of him to enable me to testify of his fine powers of conversation, his genial spirit, his deep interest in the past, and his readiness to confer upon me a favour. He talked familiarly of many of the eminent men of our country as having been his personal friends, and of no one with more interest than the celebrated Dr. Nisbet, President of Dick- inson College, who was for a long time his correspondent, and whom he regarded as one of the most remarkable men of his time. His memory seemed to me to be a rare repository of facts and incidents, many of which were worthy of an enduring record. The following is a list of Dr. Abercrombie's publications : — The Service and an appropriate Prayer at the Opening of the African Church of St. Thomas, 1794. A Sermon on the General Fast, 1798. Catechism of the Church, with an Appendix, 1803. Two Compends — first, of Elocution ; JAMES ABERCEOMBIE. 395 second, of Natural History, 1803. A Sermon on the Death of General Hamilton, 1804. A Charge to the Senior Class of the Philadelphia Academy, 1804. Do, 1805. Do, 1806. Do, 1807. Do, 1808. Do, 1809. Do, 1810. Lectures on the Catechism of the Protestant Episcopal Church, 1807. Improved edition of Murray's abridged Grammar, 1807. Second edition of do. with additions, 1808. Improved edition of Murray's large Grammar, with notes, 1808. A Sermon on the Liturgy of the Epis- copal Church, 1808. A Valedictory Oration, (delivered by J. P. Morris,) 1809. Documents relating to the Marriage of William Penn, Esq., 1809. A Valedictory Oration, (delivered by H. H. Smith,) 1810. A Course of Lectures on Rhetoric and Oratory, 1810. A Description of the Yellow Springs, 1810. Lectures on the Catechism and on Confirmation, 1811. Lectures on the Liturgy, 1811. Prospectus of Samuel Johnson's Works, 1811. The Mourner Comforted, 1812. A Sermon on the State Past, 1812. A Sermon on the National Past, 1812. A Sermon on the Death of Dr. Fothergill, 1814. FROM THE REV. HENRY M. MASON, D. D., BEOIOK OF ST. PETEr's PARISH, TALBOI COUNTY, MD. EA8T0N,Md., October 17, 1855. Rev. and dear Sir:— I knew Dr. Abercrombio well. He had married my sis- ter, who was much younger than himself, late in life. We were in habits of greater intimacy than often exists between old men and young ones; and I have sat day by day at his table, with sometimes the ball of conversation passing between Eishop White and himself, listening to narratives which covered subjects of varied interest from the American Revolution till within a short period of his own death. He was as guileless as a child — as open as the day. He was well acquainted with many of the most conspicuous characters in Church and State, and enjoyed in a high degree their respect and confidence. His extensive know- ledge of men and things, and especially of the times through which he had passed and the scenes in which he had been an actor, together with his promptness and graceful facility at communication, made him a most agreeable and entertaining companion. He had remarkable powers of eloquence, especially if the term be considered as applicable to the desk in distinction from the pulpit; for though his sermons sometimes produced a great effect upon his hearers, his manner of reading the Service was not only impressive but well nigh irresistible. The late Dr. Gardiner of Boston once invited aie, soon after I had taken Deacon's Orders, to read prayers for him; and while he was correcting some of my false emphasis, he suddenly, in his abrupt but good-hearted manner, observed, — " There is no composition in the English language so difficult to read as our Liturgy — there are but two men in America who can read it properly, and one is Abercrombie of Philadelphia." I have heard Dr. A. say that Cook, the celebrated actor, once said to him — " I come to St. Peter's to benefit by your emphasis and intonation." I must not wrong him, however, by leading you to suppose that he was vain of this or any other rare quality that he possessed; fori regard him as having leaned to too humble an estimate of his own merits. And I may add — because it is of all things most important to add — as the word merits drops from my pen, that, in a theological sense, he knew of no merit that would avail to his salvation, save only that of the All-sufficient Sacrifice. I can never forget the humble and yet confident tone in which he spoke to me in regard to himself and his prospects, a short time before his death — " Harry," said he, " a miserable sinner about to appear before the judgment of God, I tremble; and yet through Christ I am not 396 KPISCOPALIAN. afraid." My recollections of him, I hardJy need say, are exceedingly grateful, and my heart warmly responds to any effort to do honour to his memory. I remain, in the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Chri.st, Yours sincerely, H.M.MASON. FROM DAVID PAUL BROWN, ESQ. Philadelphia, September 18, 1856. My dear Sir: I knew Dr. Abercrombie vrell for many years, and often met him in circumstances that were well fitted to call him out, and display tis most striking characteristics. But I regret to say that such is the pressure of my engagements, that it is only a very hurried and general account of him that I am able now to give you. Dr. Abercrombie was a scholar of very considerable attainments; and while Principal of the Academy connected with the University of Pennsylvania, as he was for manj' years, he enjoyed the highest reputation as a classical teacher. Advancing age and other circumstances at length induced him to relinquish this post, and to devote himself exclusively to the performance of his clerical duties. In the discharge of these duties, he was not lacking in diligence, and was gen- erally a most acceptable prfeacher. If there was any quality in which, as a preacher, he was less distinguished, I should say that it was that deep feeling commonly called unction, which is always so sure to open a passage to the hearts of the hearers. There was no defect in his learning, and in the precision and beauty of his elocution, he was perhaps unsurpassed; but it might reasonably be questioned whether a gentleman, whatever might be his talents or attain- ments, could devote so large a. part of his life to academic pursuits, without forming some habits adverse to the most persuasive and effective ministration of the Gospel. Dr. Abercrombie wrote with great classical correctness. He might be said to be fastidious if not hypercritical. His voice was inclined to be harsh, but his deliv- ery was dignified and agreeable; though an increased degree of energy would have rendered it more effective. His published sermons evince a degree of refine- ment and careful culture, which give them a high rank among that class of pro- ductions in his day. In person he must have been nearly six feet high; though, in the latter part of his life he did not appear so, as he was considerably bent beneath the weight of years. He was remarkably slender, of a very pallid countenance, and with rather a small eye. He was a man of active habits, though he was subject, for some years, to severe attacks of rheumatism or gout, by which his activity was somewhat diminished. He was a most agreeable companion, had fine powers of conversation, and, from his age, and extensive observation, and diversified inter- course with men, had great knowledge of the world, and was full of instructive and amusing anecdote. It need hardly be said that there was nothing about him that savoured of hauteur or ungracious reserve — on the contrary, he always exhibited as much of pleasantry and good humour as was consistent with the dignity and sacredness of his high vocation. At one period of his life, he held a high position in literary circles ; but, in his latter years, he gradually with- drew from them, and seemed rather to court retirement. Not doubting that you will obtain a fuller and more satisfactory account of my venerable friend from some other source, I am, my dear Sir, Very truly yours, DAVID PAUL BROWN. JAMES ABERCROMBIE. 397 FROM THE REV. JOHN COLEMAN, D. D EEOTOR or TKINITT CHDKOH, PHILADELPHIA. Philadelphia, December 11, 1856. Rev. and dear Sir: During the visit with which you so kindly favoured me a few weeks since, our conversation turned on tlie late Rev. James Abercrorabie, D. D., in the course of which I mentioned a few incidents connected with my personal acquaintance with him during the last five years of his life. As you expressed a desire to have them in writing, they are now submitted to you, to be disposed of entirely as you please. My acquaintance with Dr. Abercrorabie commenced immediately on my removal to this city, in October, 1836. lie was one of the first clergymen to call upon me, and we were soon on as intimate terms as could be expected between such a venei-able father in Israel, and one so much his inferior in years, as in all other respects. Since the death of Bishop White, in July, 1836, he had been the only surviving link in the American Episcopal Church between the present generation and the past; and he was then, with the exception of but one that I can remem- ber, (the late Rev. Daniel Burhans, D. D., of Connecticut,) the oldest Episcopal clergyman in the United States. Through a long ministry of more than half a century, he had enjoyed a professional popularity which very few preachers attain; sustaining the reputation of a ripe and elegant scholar, and of an accomplished gentleman. I had often heard of him as the best reader of the Church Service living, and was naturally anxious to hear his performance of it. With such opportunities he favoured me by occasionally officiating in my desk, although he had retired from all regular public ministrations; and it was truly a luxury to listen to him, notwithstanding the loss of teeth materially affected the Oistinctness of his articulation. He read as one who fully understood what he was reading, and whose mind was earnestly occupied with the matter of it. His whole delivery of the Service was marked with that impressiveness of man- ner, variety of intonation, and propriety of emphasis, which the nature of its various parts requires, and which gave to each of them their highest effect. His last public act was to read prayers for me on a Sunday evening in Trinity Church. While the sexton was assisting him to robe in the Vestry-room, and he was drawing on his black silk gloves, (which, as was the custom with clergy- men of " the old school," he always wore in the desk and pulpit, — the tips of the fingers being cut off that they might turn the leaves more readily,) he asked me what the appointed lessons of Scripture were. The first, 1 replied, was I. Samuel, xvii., which he immediately remembered was the chapter containing the account of the battle between the armies of the Israelites and Philistines; and he exclaimed, in his brisk way, — " yes, I know; David and Goliath: — the first duel on record. Sir!" Dr. Abercrorabie retained his bodily vigour and mental powers, almost unim- paired, until within about two yeais previous to his death, from which time he began gradually to decline. In one of my latest visits at his residence in Union Street, while sitting with him in his study, I was much affected by the solemnity, and growing depth of spirituality, which his conversation manifested. " These two books," said he, pointing to a couple of open volumes upon a small table near him, and the perusal of one of which my entrance had evidently interrupted, — " these two books are the only ones I now read." One was, of course. The Book; and the other T found to be the Christian Remembrancer, by Ambrose Serle, with which you are perhaps acquainted, as one of the most deeply devotional and valu- able experimental works in our language, although I am not aware that an Ameri- can edition of it has ever appeared. He told me that he had at first borrowed a copy of it from a friend, and was so delighted with it that he had ordered another from England expressly for himself. 398 EPISCOPALIAN. Tlie Doctor's funeral was attended by a vast assemblage of Clergy and Laity, several of the former coming from neighbouring parts of the Diocese to join with those resident in the city, in doing honour to liis memory, as to a venerable father. It took place at St. Peter's Church, the ancient edifice at whose altar he had oflSciated for more than forty years, and where he had regularly gone up to worship ever since advancing years had obliged him to relinquish his pastoral connection with it — the service being performed by the Eight Rev. Henry U. Onderdonk, D. D., Bishop of the Diocese. The following extracts from a tribute to his memory, communicated at the time to the Banner of the Cross by one of our city clergy, you may not deem unacceptable: — " He was justly regarded as one of the most guileless, frank, and kind hearted of men. The writer can say from some knowledge of his private habits, that he was one of the most sincere, one of the most conscientious, and one of the most devout. He was often misunderstood — frank men always are. He was often misrepresented — the uni-esisting and the innocent must expect to be. But, after all, he passed through life, and discharged the duties of a long and prominent ministry in his native city, with the respect of his brethren, the general rever- ence of the community, and the warm affection of a large circle of friends. " When the body was let down into its final resting place, and the voice of the Bishop was heard committing the remains of the man of God to earth, to ashes, and to dust, a solemn stillness pervaded the vast throng assembled at his grave; and sighs and tears from the Clergy and the people told that one had gone whom his brethren loved, and all honoured. It was altogether a most imposing and touching spectacle,^a fitting tribute to good old Dr. Abercrombie." With sincere respect and esteem, I am. Rev. and dear Sir, Your affectionate friend and brother, JOHN COLEMAN. FROM THE RT. REV. WILLIAM H. DELANCY, D. O., LL. D. BISHOP OF THE DIOCESE OF WESTERN NEW YORK. Geneva, May 10, 1858. My dear Sir : I visited Philadelphia, for the first time, in March, 1822, was introduced to the Rev. James Abercrombie, D. D., and almost immediately became associated with him, as one of the Assistant Ministers of the United Churches of Christ Church, St. Peter's and St. James', under the venerable William White, D. D., Bishop of the Diocese of Pennsylvania, and Rector of the Parish. I was struck at once with his frank and open hearted manners and conversa- tion, and his prompt indication of his ecclesiastical views. He was then a Patriarch of more than sixty years, while but a quarter of a century was the boundary of my experience. Our intercourse was, from the first, that of brethren and fellow labourers, with such an intimacy as disparity of age did not preclude. There was nothing assuming, dictatorial or patronizing in his demeanour, but all was frank and friendly, during our professional connection, which lasted until my transfer to the Provostship of the University of Pennsyl- vania, in 1828. Affable and courteous, of kindly disposition and a cordial temperament, he easily won the affection of friends and the regard of strangers. His conversa- tion was enlivened by anecdotes of the distinguished men with whom he had min- gled. Revolutionary incidents, and the frank avowal and defence of opinions imbued with the spirit of an early advocacy of Royal sovereignty in Church and State. He was peculiarly susceptible to the influence of oratory in the pulpit, and was enamoured with the rhetoric of Summerfield, however dissonant from his reli- JAMES ABERCROMBIE. 399 gious system, impervious to his opinions, and unshaken in his attachment to the Church at whose altar ho served. Conspicuous himself as a Reader and Preacher, he had studied the subject with care and interest, understood and taught its principles, and had subdued liis own adverse voice to an extent which gave him command of its expressive powers in an eminent degree. But few readers could so efFectually bring out the full sense of a passage by intonation and cadence. He seemed rightly to regard reading as but a substitute for earnest and dignified conversation, — or what it actually is, — talking from a book. If there was any defect, his style, both in reading and preaching, failed somewhat in the " ars celare artem." Many still remember the impressive effect with which he read the story of Joseph, the Song of Moses, the stirring imagery of the Prophets, the rebukes of the Saviour, and the earnest appeals of the Apostles of our Faith. The Liturgy was his delight, and the devotional appropriateness, accuracy, and force which characterized his ministrations in the desk and at the altar, are equally indelible, while many a sinner trembled under his bold and fearless denunciations in the pulpit. In his style of composition he followed Johnson rather than Addison. His Theology was founded on the Bible as interpreted by the Prayer Book, and his Ecclesiastical views were those of a well trained conservative clergyman, contented with the existing system, disinclined to change, and confiding in authority, rather than disposed to avow or welcome new and untried principles or projects. On the.death of Bishop White, in 1836, and the final severance of the United Churches into three distinct Parishes, this venerable brother retired, on an annuity, from the ministerial labours from which age debarred him. Henceforth his Parochial connection was with St. Peter's Church, of which I had become the Rector, at which his family attended, and to which from childhood he had been peculiarly attached, I saw him often in the evening of life, when his sun was setting, surrounded by liis family, patient under occasional attacks of an acute disease, rejoicing in the opening prospects of his children, delighted with the visits of his friends, unostentatiously and calmly, in dependance on the grace and merits of Christ, and in the faithful use of the appointed means, preparing for the ultimate change, (which did not occur until two years after I left Philadelphia for ray present post,) retaining his bodily vigour and mental powers almost to the remotest point of his career, and terminating a life of faith and devotion by a death of hope and joy. Confiding, frank and generous, ready to give, and glad to distribute with his limited means, impressible, social, sincere, conscientious and devout, he passed through life, — the youthful part of it amid the stirring scenes of the Revolution, and the latter portion in a protracted, useful and honoured ministry. Very truly yours, W, H, DELANCET. 400 EPISCOPALIAN. CHARLES SEABURY. 1793—1844. FROM THE REV. SAMUEL SEABURY, D. D. New Toek, December 29, 1357. Eev. and dear Sir : I have already signified to you my willingness to comply with your request, and give you some account of my father, the Eev. Charles Seaburt; and I now proceed to make good my promise. My father was the youngest child of the Et. Eev. Samuel Seabury, D. D., Bishop of Connecticut and Ehode Island. He was born at West Ches- ter in the State (then Province) of New York, on the 20th of May, 1770. He must have been not far from five years of age when his father came to live in the city of New York, where he appears to have remained until about the age of fifteen, when his father removed to New London to enter on the duties of the Episcopate. He pursued his studies preparatory to Theology, at first under the Eev. Eichard Mansfield, D. D., of Derby, Conn. ; and afterwards under the Eev. William Smith, D. D., then of Narragansett, E. I. Eeturning to New London, he resumed his theologi- cal studies, under the immediate direction of his father ; by whom he was admitted to the Holy Order of Deacons, on the 5th of June, 1793, at Christ Church, Middletown, on the recommendation of the Clergy then assembled in Convention at that place. Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Burhans was also ordained Deacon at the same time and place. In the fall of 1795, he began the sacred duties of the ministry in Grace Church, Jamaica, L. I. Here he continued to reside until the month of March following, when he was called to the Eectorship of St. James' Church, New London, vacated the month previous by the death of his Et. Eeverend father. On the 17th of July, 1796, he was admitted to the Priesthood in St. George's Chapel, in the City of New York, by the Et. Eev. Samuel Pro- voost. Bishop of the Diocese of New York. On the 13th of June, 1799, he was married to Anne, fourth daughter of Eoswell Saltonstall, Esq., of New London. His children, — six in number, of whom one died in infancy, and only three survived him, were the fruit of this marriage, and were all born in New London. He continued to reside in New London until the summer of 1814, when he resigned the charge of St. James' Church, and removed to Long Island, having been called to the Eectorship of Caroline Church, Setauket, Suf- folk County. It was, I believe, in the autumn of the same year that he was instituted in the Eectorship of this Church, the Eev. Seth Hart* of Hempstead, L. I., by the appointment of Bishop Hobart, acting as insti- •Seth Hakt was born at Berlin, Conn., June 21, 1763; was graduated at Tale College in 1784; was ordained Deacon, October 9, 1791, and Priest, October 14, 1792. He preached first at Waterbury, and from 1794 to 1798, was Rector of the Churches in Wallingford and North Haven. Some difficulty having arisen in the parish at North Haven, he resigned it, and was called to St. George s Church, Hempstead, L. I., where he remained until his death, March 16, 1832. He was a good classical scholar, an amiable man, a successful teacher, and an accept- able preacher. His son, William Henry, was graduated at Columbia College in 1811; was ordained Deacon by Bishop Hobart in 1814, and Priest by Bishop White sometime afterwards. He was Keotor of Christ Church, Richmond, Va., from 1815 to 1828; and of a Church in Wal- CHARLES SEABURT. 401 tutor, and the Rev. Gilbert H. Sayres, of Jamaica, L. I., and the Eev. Evan M. Johnson, of Newtown, L. I., being present and assisting. The Sermon on this occasion was preached by the Rev. Mr. Hart. In March, 1816, he was bereaved of his wife, whose mortal remains now lie beside his own, in the church-yard at Setaukct. In this year also, in addition to his charge in Setauket, he was appointed missionary to the vacant churches of Huntington and Islip, L. I. Three years afterwards, the Church at Huntington was relinquished ; and his missionary charge was limited to Caroline Church, Setauket, and St. John's Church, Islip. These two churches he continued to supply for many years ; officiating at first every third Sunday, and afterwards, and during much the greater portion of the time, every alternate Sunday at Islip. On the 5th of October, 1821, he was married to Elizabeth, relict of the Rev. Henry Moscrop ;* who survived him, and expired in this city in the month of May last, at a very advanced age. While his health permitted, he performed the arduous labours of his mission with cheerfulness and fidelity ; officiating regularly on Sunday, and preaching on numerous other occasions, especially at funerals, both at church and in private houses, in places remote from any church. In his seventy-third year, however, oppressed by the infirmities of age, he retired from the more active duties of the ministry, (still retaining the Rectorship of the Church at Setauket,) on a pension provided for him by the Corpora- tion for the relief of the aged and infirm Clergy of the Diocese. This change was announced by Bishop Onderdonk, in his Annual Address to the Convention of his Diocese, in the following terms : — " The Rev. William Adams has become the missionary at Setauket, Suf- folk County, herein succeeding the Rev. Charles Seabury, whom the infirmi- ties of age have compelled to relinquish the very faithful devotion with which, for nearly thirty years, he ministered to this portion of the Lord's; vineyard, and who carries with him into his truly honourable retirement,, on a pension from our fund for grateful remuneration of past services, the veneration, respect, and love of all who know him. Unweariedly, disinter- estedly, and with no small share of trial and self-sacrifice, giving himself to his Master's work, ever since, in 1796, he was commissioned thereto by his illustrious parent, the Apostle of our Church, he will, while waiting- for his departure in peace, enjoy the affectionate respect of his brethren- and friends.".! After his retirement, my father continued to reside at Setauket, in the enjoyment of tolerable health, until the time of his death, which occurred very suddenly on the 29th of December, 1844. den, N. Y., from 1830 to 1836. From 1835 to 1842, he was again in his first parish. He then, returned to the North, and after preaching a while at rishkill, again toolt charge of his old! parish at Walden, which he held until 1851 . He died of paralysis (as his father .also had done,) on the 28th of July, 1852, aged sixty-two years. •Henry Mosckop, of Rhode Island, was ordained Deacon, August 27, and Priest, August 29 1786. He was Rector of St. James' Church, Prince George's County, Md., in 1792, but in'l795 was at All Hallow's Church, Ann Arundel County, in the same State. In 1797, ho- was supplying Trinity Church, Newport, gratuitously, but in 1799, and for some years after, was residing in Ann Arundel County, Md. In 1804 and 1805, his name is not on the Clergy lists- but in 1811, he was residing in St. Paul's Parish, Baltimore. From 1813, to his deathi in 1817, he resided in the ijity of New York. His danghterwas married to the Rt. Rev. B. T.- Onderdonk, D. D. „ , _ ^. - ,o^o f See Journal of New York Convention for 1843. Vor,. V. 51 402 EPISCOPALIAN. The following tribute to my father's memory, published shortly after his death, supersedes the necessity of an attempt on my part to portray his character, and has the advantage of not being coloured by the partiality of filial affection. It is from the pen of my ever honoured friend and Bishop, the Rt. Eev. Dr. B. T. Onderdonk, who, having stated the fact of my father's death, proceeds to say, — " My knowledge of him commenced in my boyhood, and goes back for a period of about forty years. For the last twenty-three years, I knew him intimately. I never knew a man in whom were more thoroughly mani- fested the essential traits of the Christian character. From worldliness I can hardly conceive of one more exempt. He was too disinterested for the men of this generation. He adhered too faithfully to his baptismal vows to fit his religion to the spirit of the age. He cherished too sedulously the grace of which his baptism made him a partaker, to fall into the snares which draw so many disciples from consistent allegiance to the Lord, The unspeakable blessing of his Apostolic father's Christian instruction was not lost upon him. He was eminently true to the Gospel and the Church. He received both in the essential union in which God has placed them. He took them from God as He offers them to man. Humble as a little child, he sought only for the authority and sanction of ' Thus it is written ;' and be the mystery what it may, and be what it may the trial to the pride of the carnal mind, his meek and lowly spirit knew no other sentiment or feeling than ' Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.' " Hence he was thoroughly evangelical in all his views. No' man more humble under a sense of native depravity and personal sinfulness. No man more sensible of entire dependance on the great vicarious sacrifice of the Incarnate God. No man more truly, and with closer personal applica- tion, aware of the necessity of the renewal of the heart by the Holy Ghost. No man more humble, and more justified in a trust that that renewal was his. No man truer to the genuine evangelical faith which leads to Christ, through his holy Church, its Sacraments, its services, the ministrations generally of its Priesthood, and the habitual personal piety, in private and social character, which God has appointed to be thus directed and fostered. " In consistency with and as part of these Christian qualifications, he was much valued and beloved among his friends for his cheerful, intelligent and attractive social intercourse. His conversational powers, until increas- ing deafness necessarily curtailed the sphere of their exercise, will long be remembered by his friends. They brought from a mind well stored with events of past years, nothing but what interested, and much that charmed .and instructed. His early recollection of his venerated father's friends, and long acquaintance with the progress of things in the Church rendered him a peculiarly interesting and valuable companion to the Clergy. He was one of the lastJinks which bound together this generation and that of the founders of the American branch of the Anglican Church. " His Church principles were those of his father. This sufficiently des- cribes them. They of course led him to Christ, the Head of all things to the Church. He received of his fulness ; and faithful unto death, the Gos- pel encourages us to hope that he has died in the Lord, and is therefore Messed." CHARLES SEABTJRT. 403 I am not aware of my father's having published any discourse, except a Sermon (printed at New London) occasioned by the death of the Kev. W. Green,* A. M., an Episcopal clergyman, who, at the time of his decease, was the Principal of a Female Academy at New London. I believe, my dear Sir, that I have now covered the ground indicated by your questions. If the facts which I have stated will be of any use to you, they are heartily placed at your service ; and I need hardly add that I shall be much gratified by the insertion of them in yovir forthcoming work in any form you may be pleased to adopt. I am, Rev. and dear Sir, Very respectfully and truly yours, SAMUEL SEABURT. WALTER DULANY ADDISON. 1793—1848. FROM THE REV. ETHAN ALLEN, D. D. Baltimore, Md., June 1, 1858. My dear Sir : It gives me pleasure to furnish you with some account of the Rev. Walter D. Addison, an excellent and venerable minister of this State, of whose history and character I have had every opportunity I could desire of becoming well informed. Indeed, so far as the narrative of his life is concerned, what I shall write will be little more than an abstract from a record of "Facts and Incidents" by his son, William Meade Addison, Esq., of this city, who received the materials of his state- ment from the lips or the pen of his father. Waltee Dulant Addison, the eldest son of Thomas and Rebecca Addison, was born at Annapolis, Md., on the 1st of January, 1769. His paternal grandfather was Mr. John Addison, who built the family residence in Prince Greorge's County, on the heights East of the Potomac, opposite Alexandria, called " Oxon Hill." His maternal grandparents were Walter and Mary Dulany, and it was under the care of his grandmother Dulany, a lady of eminent piety, that he received his earliest religious impressions. On the death of his grandfather Addison, he was removed to Oxon Hill, the residence of his mother, then a widow, where he remained a number of years. At the close of the Revolutionary War, his guardian determined to send him, together with his brothers, John and Thomas, to England to complete his education, — for which country they embarked in 1784. Immediately on their arrival, they were received by the Rev. Jonathan Boucher, a clergyman who had returned to England from this country, at the breaking out of the Revolution, then residing at Paddington in the vicinity of London, and by him placed under the charge of the Rev. John • William Ghben was a native of New London, Conn. ; was graduated at Dartmouth Col- lege in 1791 ; was ordained Deacon by Bishop Seabury, October 18, 1793 ; was officiating at Waterbnry, Conn., in 1796 and 1797, but subsequently went to the South; returned to New London, where he engaged in teaching; and died in 1801. 404 EPISCOPALIAN. James, who kept a small select school, where they remained till the following spring. Thence they were removed to a large Academy near Grreenwich, where they continued till the year 1787. They were now removed to Epsom, fifteen miles from the metropolis. Of this parish their uncle was Kector ; and he placed them under the tuition of the Eev. Joseph Geld- ing, his Curate. " Here," writes Mr. Addison, " a new scene presented itself. The school consisted of four, — John Carr, my two brothers, and myself. Here we were beyond the contagion of evil company. Mr. Gold- ing was a man of high literary attainments and most exalted piety. With all these advantages, I am sorry to add that more than a year elapsed before any serious and lasting impressions were made on my mind in rela- tion to eternal things. In 1788, my uncle requested us to make a catalogue of his library. In preparing it, we were obliged to use a ladder to reach the upper shelves, from which I had a fall which occa- sioned me severe injury, and confined me for a considerable time. In my solitary moments, most serious thoughts were awakened in my mind ; deep remorse and strong convictions of my former evil courses seized upon me ; Death, the King of Terrors, appeared to' me, and tormented me with the most excruciating fears ; my pillow was often moistened with my tears. While in the midst of this distress, I was awakened to a sense of Divine things by a remarkable dream Immediately I'procured a New Testament, and turned to a passage which imparted light and comfort. I betook myself to prayer and sacred reading. These produced peace and joy, where before all was darkness and wretchedness. My friend, Mr. Golding, lost no time in advising me as to the course I ought to pursue, and most thankful am I to Almighty God that, in his mercy, He bestowed upon me so warm, so steadfast, and so excellent a friend. " After the lapse of about two years, we removed to London to complete our education under Dr. Barrow. Previous to my departure, my friend Mr. Golding informed me of the many trials and temptations to which I should be subjected, and that persecutions must await me. The truth of all this I experienced, on reaching Soho Square," as he goes on to mention, and then adds, — " amidst the trials and temptations daily prayer and sacred reading preserved me. After remaining with the Doctor about six months, my brother John and myself embarked from Gravesend for Amer- ica, late in the summer of 1789." They were landed at Annapolis. " Here I found an enlightened and polished society Here a different scene awaited me. My friends gave me a cordial reception, which was partially testified by numerous invitations to parties that were tendered to me. Into these amusements I entered without fear ; for then I little knew how dangerous they were. They soon, however, exposed to me their true character ; for they proved more subtle temptations than the ridicule of my schoolmates in England, and the more formidable threats of Dr. Barrow's scholars. I must have fallen a victim to these enticing pleasures, had it not been for daily prayer and sacred reading. The society of young men I found it necessary to quit, and in that of the virtuous and the fair I took refuge. Next to religion, I consider the company of esti- mable ladies the best safeguard that the youth of our sex can have. I spent my mornings in study, and my evenings generally in the society of •WALTER DULANY ADDISON. 405 the ladiea. I became acquainted with an elderly lady by the name of Hesselius, who lived near the city. She was a woman of exalted piety, and of vigorous and accomplished mind. I found great pleasure and advantage in her society." To her daughter Elizabeth he was married on the 5th of June, 1792. On attaining to his majority, he came into possession of a part of " Addison's Manor," embracing Oxon Hill, containing between three and four thousand acres, together with about twenty-five slaves, and other per- sonal estate. On his return to this country, he found that his mother had been reduced to a state of comparative poverty. He at once made a pre- sent to her of " Hard Park," — a tract of more than four hundred acres of land, to be improved by her during life. To a brother, born after his father's death, for whom no adequate provision had been made, he made a present of five hundred acres, and to his uncle, who was somewhat embar- rassed in his circumstances, he released a bond of seventeen hundred pounds. His slaves he set free, from time to time, until the number emaii- cipated amounted to about fifty. Such, even at this early period, was the disposition which he made of no small portion of his worldly estate. In the spring of 1793, Mr. Addison removed to Oxon Hill. He had, for some years, been studying for the ministry, and at this time he repaired to the Convention, held at Easton, on the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake, and was ordained to the Diaconate by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Claggett. This, it is believed, was Bishop Claggett's first Ordination. " The state of vital religion was very low in the Church at this period. Occasionally there might be seen a clergyman whose humility, zeal and devotion attested his fitness for his office, but rarely was the heart of the believer gladdened by such a sight. One clergyman, but a short time before this, had killed his adversary in a duel, and numbers habitually frequented the ball-room, the card party, the horse race, and the bar-room." Mr. Addison had acquired some distinction for his piety before his ordination. It was known that he would not attend theatres, balls, &c., and that he condemned it in others. The Rector of the parish in which he lived, then a member of the Standing Committee, determined to prevent Mr. A.'s admission to the ministry, saying that his views were puritanical, and suited rather to the Methodists. But Mr. A.'s guardian, a Vestryman of the parish, inter- fered, and the Rector was induced to withhold his opposition. It may serve to illustrate the different views of the Rector and of the candidate, to state that, at the wedding of Mr. Addison's sister, the Rector played the violin for the company to dance after. In looking over the Canons of the Diocese, Mr. Addison discovered that those for clerical discipline were clearly-inadequate. At the Convention, therefore, at which he was ordained, he called on the Rev. John Coleman, a gentleman distinguished for his zeal and purity of life, and suggested to him to talce measures for obtaining a Canon which should prohibit the Clergy from frequenting taverns and places of vicious public amusements, and from attending balls, &c., stating that, though he would meet with strenuous opposition, and be charged with puritanical strictness and innova- tion, yet he had in his pocket a copy of the Canons of the Church of Eng- land which would sufficiently refute such an accusation. Mr. Coleman 406 EPISCOPALIAN. acceded to the request, and offered the Canon for adoption. Two promi- nent Keverend gentlemen stood up and opposed it, as was expected. Mr. G. then showed the Canon of the English Church, furnished him by Mr. A., and asked only for the same discipline in this country that the Church had in England. The Canon was adopted ; and is as follows : — " Whereas the honour of the Church is concerned in the decent deportment of its ministers, the practice of playing at Cards, Dice, Tables, or any other vicious or unseemly diversion, is prohibited, as incompatible with the gravity of the clerical profession." After his ordination, Mr. Addison took charge of Queen Ann's Parish, in Prince George's. The distance, however, of Oxon Hill from this parish was so great that he found himself somewhat embarrassed in the discharge of his official duties. He, therefore, determined to resign his charge, after officiating there for two years. At the Convention of 1796, he was appointed on the Standing Committee, and appointed by the Bishop the Visiting Member for the Parishes of Calvert and St. Mary's, Charles and Prince George's Counties; "but he excused himself," says the Bishop, " because he thought his youth and some other causes would render abor- tive his exertions." Mr. Addison had no sooner entered on his ministry than he made war on the fashionable amusements of balls, card-playing, theatres, &c., which he continued to carry on from the pulpit until his infirmities withdrew him from that scene of labour. In private and in public, in adversity and in prosperity, in the vigour of youth and in the decrepitude of old age, as a minister actively engaged in his duties and as a minister retired from pub- lic service, he steadily opposed them by both precept and example, as not only fatal to spiritual growth, but utterly inconsistent with Christian character. On the eve of his departure from England, he procured a pamphlet addressed to people of fashion, on the irreligious tendency of balls and theatres, which, many years after his ordination, he carried with him to the Convention of the Diocese. It was regarded by those of the Clergy to whom he showed it as worthy of republication. It was accord- ingly republished, and was very widely circulated. An Appendix was added, which embodied the opinions of men of high standing for learning and piety, strongly adverse to these amusements. This pamphlet he believed contributed not a little towards the establishment of the Lay Dis- cipline, now regulated by the Canons of the Church in this Diocese, as finally revised in 1836, and again in 1847, which may be regarded as the completion of the system. It was a great satisfaction to him that he was spared to witness the recognition by the Episcopal Church of principles and rules of life as essential to christian character, which, half a century before, he had been ridiculed for maintaining and striving to enforce. After his resignation of Queen Ann's Parish, in 1796, having no paro- chial charge, he frequently officiated for the Rector of St. John's Parish, in which he resided, and also for the Rev. Mr. Davis,* then in charge of Christ Church, Alexandria, as well as occasionally in other places. He • Thomas Davis was admitted to Orders in England, in September, 1773, and, on coming to this country, settled in Norfolk Parish, Va. In 1792, he was in St. Stephen's Parish; and in 17S6, he had become the Rector of Christ Church, Alexandria, in Fairfax Parish. He died there some time before 1810. ■"= " u "WALTER DULANY ADDISON. 407 had frequent calls to visit the sick and to preach Funeral Sermons. Thus was his time fully occupied till the year 1803, when he became the Kector of St. John's Parish. This parish had then its parish church at Broad Creek, a chapel at Akakeek, below Piscataway, and another near Bladens- burg, called " Addison's Chapel." It is believed that he continued in this Rectorship till about the year 1809. In 1804, he commenced teaching a school at his residence at Oxon Hill. In 1805, he removed to Hard Park, (which he had formerly given his mother, and subsequently repurchased,) and continued his school there till 1809. During all this time, he had an average of twenty scholars. His health, however, was very imperfect, and in 1808, he was called to encounter a severe domestic affliction in the death of his wife, who left behind her four children. In 1809, he removed to Georgetown, D. C, where he resided with his brother John, and taught a school in connection with him. He went to this city to take charge of the church, then recently deprived by death of its pastor, the Rev. Mr. Sayres.* Mr. Addison had taken an active part many years before in the erection of the church edifice. The Sermon preached on the occasion of its enlargement by the Rev. Dr. Butler, con- tains a minute history of its origin and completion, and does Mr. Addison's services the fullest justice. In 1814, Mr. Addison was married to Rebecca, daughter of William Baily of Prince George's County, by whom he had two children, one only of whom survived him. He continued in charge of St. John's Church till his increasing infirmities compelled him to resign it. In 1818, he became entirely blind, and remained so till the close of his life. In the spring of 1830, he left Georgetown, and went to reside with his family in Washing- ton City, where he continued till 1847. From that time onward, he resi- ded with his sons, in Baltimore City and County. In October, 1847, he had a remarkable dream, which he shortly after related to his wife, and which he regarded as an admonition of his approach- ing death. From this time, his bodily strength gradually failed, his voice became perceptibly weaker, and every thing betokened his speedy dislodg- ment from the earthly tabernacle. He, however, retained all his accus- tomed cheerfulness, and gave every indication that he was waiting in faith and patience till his change should come. A little less than three weeks before his death, his disease, which had hitherto seemed to be little more than general decay, took on an acute form, and from that time, with very brief intermissions, he suffered the most intense agony till death came to his release. Throughout the whole, however, he sustained himself in all the dignity of entire submission to the Divine will, and finally traversed the dark valley with an unfaltering step. He died in Baltimore,' on the 31st of January, 1848, and was buried, agreeably to his own direction, at Oxon * John J. Sayres is said to have been a native of New York, and was admitted to Deacon's and Priest's Orders by Bishop Claggett. He entered on the charge of Durham Parish, Charles County, Md., in January, 1799, where he was married to Sophia Speakn. After remaining here about four years, he went to reside in Georgetown, in the District of Columbia. He was in feeble health, but maintained himself and his family by teaching, while, at the same time, he ministered to the Episcopalians there, and succeeded in building a church. He was Chaplain to the Senate of the United States, in 1806-07. He died in the winter of 1808, leaving a widow and two sons. Mr. Sayres is remembered as a faithful and excellent minister, and waa much beloved by his people. 408 EPISCOPALIAIf. Hill, the home of his childhood, and the sacred receptacle of the ashes of those whom he most ' loved, who had gone before him. There he sleeps beneath a venerable tree, and almost within the sound of the quiet mur- murs of the Potomac. Among the most striking features of Mr. Addison's character were his firmness of purpose, his promptness in action, and his perseverance in the face of all difficulties. This is well illustrated in his frequent successful efforts to prevent duels. On two occasions it became necessary for him to be invested with civil authority. The first of these occurred in the year 1801. It was a time of high political excitement. A gentleman, who was a near neighbour to Mr. Addison, had written several newspaper articles, in which the then President was treated with extreme severity. A nephew of the President, and a connection of Mr. A. by marriage, resented the attack on the President, and challenged the writer. As soon as this came to the knowledge of Mr. A., he repaired to the challenger, and urged every argu- ment in his power to dissuade him from his mad design, adding his most earnest entreaties, but all to no purpose. He then went in pursuit of a constable, with a view to arrest the procedure, and found one who promised to undertake the ease ; but he deceived Mr. Addison, and the parties got off unmolested. Mr. A. then went to the President, and begged him to interfere with his nephew and arrest the duel. But here again, he effected nothing. He then started off on horseback to the place where he supposed the duel was to be fought. On the way, he fell in with the challenged party and his surgeon ; but so far was he from exerting any favourable influence that they resolved to escape him by hard riding. As this did not succeed, they proposed to each other to take him from his horse and tie him in the woods ; but this idea was abandoned, and he was permitted to ride on in silence to the spot selected for the fight. The challenger's second was here ; and Mr. Addison expostulated with him also, but he was met only by insult. Disheartened by his repeated failures, but still not despairing, he went several miles for a magistrate. He found one at length, and returned with him to the ground, accompanied also by a man whom they had overtaken on the way, and whom the magistrate had invested with constabulary authority. Arriving at the spot, they found that the parties had left. But they were discovered, however, not long after, at some dis- tance from that place. One of the parties and his second were arrested, and bound over to keep the peace under a heavy penalty. The others fled, and the duel, for the time being, was prevented. Some time after, how- ever, Mr. A. ascertained that the matter was not yet settled, and he felt that not a moment was to be lost. This was Sunday morning. He sent to the church, and had his congregation dismissed, and proceeded immedi- ately to Georgetown, and procured a warrant to be issued, but, after some hours, the constable returned, saying that the party would not be taken. He then himself became invested with authority to arrest all persons who should be breaking the peace, or who would be likely to do so. Learning that the party, not previously arrested, was at the house of a relative in Georgetown, Mr. A. repaired thither, took supper with them, and, after conversing awhile, rose and walked to the chair of the gentleman in ques- tion, tapped him on the shoulder and communicated to him the somewhat ■WALTER DULANY ADDISON. 409 startling intelligence that he was his prisoner, and must go with him forth- with to jail, unless he would give security in the sum of five thousand dol- lars to keep the peace. Astonished, the gentleman cried out, — "Sir, you are mad." Mr. A. replied,—" I am not mad, but speak the words of truth and soberness." The security was given, and the duel thus finally termi- nated. Mr. Addison combined a devoted attachment to his own Church with a kindly spirit towards all others whom he considered as holding the funda- mental truths of the Gospel. His intercourse with the Presbyterian min- isters of Georgetown and Alexandria, Doctors Balch and Muir, was of the most friendly and agreeable character. To the coloured Methodists in his neighbourhood he made a present, in 1800, of a lot to build an edifice for their worship, and as the lot remained unimproved till 1816, he obtained subscriptions then for building them a commodious brick meeting-house. To a brother minister who remonstrated against this procedure, he simply replied that the service he rendered the Methodists he knew would redound to the benefit of his own Church. And so it turned out ; for about twenty years afterwards, St. Barnabas' Church was built in this very neighbour- hood, through the zeal of Christians kept alive, as Mr. A. believed, by the religious services of the Methodist meeting-house. With the Roman Catholics he also lived on the most friendly terms. With Father C there existed an intimacy which led to a frequent exchange of visits. On one occasion, while Mr. A. was visiting liim, he proposed to his Protestant friend to unite with the Romish Church. Mr. A. replied that Christian charity prevented him from making war on his brother Christians, but it did not prevent him from seeing their superstitions, deploring their errors, and feeling for his own Church a warm and steady devotion from which he was not to be seduced. The proposition was never renewed. Mr. Addison availed himself of every opportunity to speak for Christ and his cause, even though it was only a word. On one occasion, as he was visiting a sick woman in the neighbourhood, he observed her little son take his seat by her bedside, and seem to be noticing attentively all that was goino' on. When Mr. Addison left, the little fellow followed him to the gate ; and being struck with the boy's gentle manner, he took from his pocket a scrap of paper on which he wrote several texts of Scripture. On a Sunday morning, not long after, while on his way to Broad Creek Church, he overtook his little friend wending his way to the same place. Mr. A. entered into conversation with him, and inquired, — " Do you know how to read 1" " No, Sir," was his reply, " I wish to God I did." " Then come to me to-morrow, and I will have you taught." The next day, the boy presented himself at Oxon Hill. He was at once put to school, and con- tinued there till he had made sufiicient progress in his studies, and attained sufficient age, to take charge of a school himself. In this employment the sobriety of his manners and his general devout appearance attracted the attention of Bishop Claggett, who advised him to study Divinity. He acquiesced, and was in due time admitted to the ministry, and has since become a highly respectable clergyman. In 1839, this clergyman was leading Mr. Addison through the streets of Baltimore, when he delicately testified his remembrance of the incidents of his early life by saying, — Vol. V. 52 410 EPISCOPALIAN. " Ah, Mr. Addison, you led me, when I was blinder than you arc," and at the same time recalled to Mr. A. the incident of the scrap of paper at the gate, which had transpired forty years before. Mr. Addison was a man of great modesty, and unaffected humility, and at the same time of the most unwavering faith. His confidence in God was the anchor of his soul. I shall never forget his beautiful and impres- sive remark, in a conversation with him a few days before his death. Speaking of the faith exhibited by one of our old Bishops, he quoted our Saviour's words,-^" If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall remove mountains." " Yes," said he, " as a grain of mustard seed — how small the cause ! Mountains of difficulties removed by it — how wonderful the result !" Very sincerely and fraternally yours, ETHAN ALLEN. DANIEL BURHANS, D. D * 1793—1853. Daniel Btjehans was born of poor but pious parents, at Sherman, Conn., on the 7th of July, 1763. His grandfather, Simon Burhans, was a wealthy farmer in one of the Hanse towns in Holland, who migrated to this country in 1718, and took up his residence in Esopus, (now Kingston,) on the Hudson Kiver. But he dying suddenly, after a residence of ten years in the country, and his widow dying shortly after in Holland, where she had gone to defend what was supposed to be a large entailed estate, their five children were left in this country wholly destitute. Henry, the second son, and the father of the subject of this sketch, was taken under the care of a respectable farmer of New Milford, Conn., with whom he lived, labouring upon his farm till he was twenty-three years old. He served for seven years as an officer in the old French "War, and at the close of the war settled in the place where his son Daniel was born. It was the privilege of the son to receive a religious education, his parents being worthy members of the Congregational Church, and careful to instruct him in the great principles of Christianity. He seems to have early evinced a very docile spirit, and to have taken great satisfaction in reading and studying the Bible. He had also, from his youth, a strong predilection for the Christian Ministry , and at lengtlt. he began to think seriously of making it his profession. But he was met at once with obstacles that seemed quite insuperable. An education in the classics and higher branches of science was necessary ; but his father, being a poor man, with a large and sickly family to support by his daily labour, was unable to ren- der him the desired assistance ; and the only opportunity for study afi'orded him, was during three or four months of the year, in a common district school. • Dr. Pitkins' MS. Fun. Serm.— Ch. Eev., 1854. DANIEL BURHANS. 411 Applying himself, however, vigorously to his studies, under every dis- advantage, he made such progress that his teacher was induced to intercede with his father to give him a liberal education ; and so deeply was his teacher interested in his behalf, that he pledged himself to sustain him through his college course, if he could, in any way, be prepared for admis- sion. The father yielded to the generous proposal, and the son went on with his studies with renewed zeal, and with great success. He was now seventeen years of age ; and, by labouring on the farm in the summer, and teaching in the winter, he was enabled, with little help from home, to prepare himself for College in two years. But here a fresh disap- pointment awaited him. In the autumn of 1782, he went to visit his patron, who resided some twenty miles distant, with a view to submit himself to an examination in his studies. On entering the house, he found the wor- thy man on whom his hopes of an education depended, lying upon his death bed ; he lived but a few hours after, and, as he left no will, all hopes of assistance from that quarter were cut off. He returned home with a heavy heart, but was still determined to perse- vere. Shorly after this, he went to Lanesborough, Mass., where he engaged to work for his board, with the privilege of attending the public school. The teacher was found incompetent, and was soon dismissed ; and the situa- tion being offered immediately to Mr. Burhans, he accepted it, and from a pupil in the school b.ecame its Principal. During a revival in the Congregational Society to which Mr. Burhans was attached, a number of questions relating to Regeneration, Election, the Means of Grace, &c., had been urged upon his attention, as they had never been before, and he found himself constrained to dissent from some of the views of those subjects which were then current in the community. The consequence was that he was thrown, for a time, into a state of great despondency, well nigh despairing of his own salvation, and was afterwards strongly tempted to doubt the Divine authority of the Scriptures. While he was in this state of mind, a friend placed in his hands the Thirty-Nine Articles of the Church of England ; and, without knowing with what denomination of Christians they originated, he read and examined them, and was struck with their conformity to his own views of Scripture truth. Shortly after this he united with the Episcopal Church, and received the Holy Communion, for the first time, on "Whitsunday, 1783. Meanwhile the school in which Mr. Burhans had engaged, constantly increased ; and, as he found himself in a position of usefulness, he seems, for a time, to have abandoned the idea of immediately entering the Minis- try. His friends erected a large brick school-house for him, and he pur- chased a lot, and built himself a comfortable house, and having taken to himself a wife, he was, to all appearance, settled in an honourable and useful occupation. But there were other and higher duties in reserve for him. St. Luke's Church in Lanesborough, Mass. was under the charge of the Rev. Gideon Bostwick, who resided at Great Barrington, twenty-five miles distant, and visited Lanesborough but once a month. In the absence of the Rector, Mr. Burhans officiated as lay reader ; and he continued to perform this service until 1791, when, at the suggestion, and under the 412 EPISCOPAL IAN. guidance, of the Rev. Mr. Bostwick, he began to read Systematic Divinity. At first, he had nothing further in view than to take Deacon's Orders, and assist his friend and teacher, who was the only Episcopal clergyman in the County of Berkshire, — still retaining his school, and depending upon it principally as a means of support. In 1793, he was ordained Deacon by Bishop Seabury, at Middletown, and ten days afterwards was called to preach at the funeral of the Eev. Mr. Bostwick. He was thus left alone, a self-taught man, and with but little practical knowledge of Episcopacy, to carry on a school of more than one hundred scholars, and to sustain the only two Episcopal churches in the county, — the nearest clergyman of his communion being at Albany, distant forty-three miles. He entered, however, resolutely on the work which was thus devolved upon him, and soon organized two other churches, — one in Lenox, in Berkshire County, and the other in New Lebanon, in the State of New York, where he had previously read prayers. Under these severe labours his health soon failed, and he dismissed his school, and devoted himself entirely to his clerical duties. Having received Priest's Orders at New Haven, from Bishop Seabury, in 1794, he laboured six years in Lanes- borough, and the adjacent region. In the true spirit of a missionary, he made a visitation every spring and fall through the county, which was fifty miles in length, and between twenty-five and thirty in breadth. In these visitations, which lasted usually three weeks, it was his custom to preach every day, and often twice or even thrice a day, and wherever an opportu- nity occurred — sometimes in private houses, often in Congregational places of worship, and, if necessary, in the open field. These persevering labours laid the foundation for several new churches in that region. In 1799, he received and accepted a call from the Church in Newtown, Conn., which had been the scene of the ministrations of the Rev. John Beach, and afterwards of the Rev. Mr. Perry.* The parish, at that time, numbered a hundred and forty families, and the church a hundred and sixty communicants. There were great difficulties, however, to be met and overcome, arising partly from the pecuniary condition of the parish, and partly from a general laxity of religious doctrine and morals, connected with the peculiar state of things consequent on the Revolution. Under these circumstances, he addressed himself to his work with great vigour, and not without encouraging success ; as was indicated by the fact that, at the first Visitation of the Bishop, after his settlement, eighty were con- firmed, and the number of communicants thereby increased to two hundred and forty. The pecuniary aspect also of the parish soon began to brighten, and a permanent fund of several thousand dollars was ere long raised by voluntary subscription. His connection with the parish at Newtown continued thirty-one years ; during the whole of which time he devoted himself to his work with great zeal • Philo Pebry, a son of -loseph Perry, M. D., of Woodbury, Conn., was born December 22, 1752 ; was graduated at Yale College in 1777 ; studied Medicine, and practised it for some time at Stratford. He afterwards studied Theology, and was ordained Deacon, September 21, 1786, and Priest, June 3, 1787. After his ordination, he was called to the Rectorship of Trinity Church, Newtown, where he remained until his death, which took place in the year 1798. He was Secretary of the Convention of Connecticut, Delegate to the General Convention, and mem- ber of the Standing Committee. DANIEL BURHANS. 4^3 and industry, and exerted an important influence, not only at home but abroad. He resigned his charge in 1830, his church then consisting of three hundred and sixteen members, nearly all of whom parted with him with great reluctance. For one year after leaving this parish, he officiated in Wood- bury, Roxbury, and Bethlehem ; and in the autumn of 1831, he received a call to St. Peter's Church, Plymouth, which he accepted. He remained at Plymouth six years, when the increasing duties of the parish, in connection with his increasing bodily infirmities, led him again to resign his charge. He, however, officiated after this at Oxford, and Zoar; and in 1844, in the eighty-first year of his age, and the fifty-first of his ministry, he closed his work, and removed to Poughkeepsie, N. Y., where he passed a green old age. His vigour of both body and mind was preserved in a remarkable degree. He preached within the last year of his life, and assisted in the Communion Service only the month before he died. He continued his theological studies to the last ; and, in writing to a brother in the ministry a few months only previous to his death, he incidentally stated that he had just finished reading Mosheim's Commentaries. He died at Poughkeepsie, after a brief illness, — ■ during which he was for the most part unable to speak, if not absolutely unconscious, — on the 30th of December, 1853, aged ninety years and six months. At the time of his decease, he was the oldest clergyman in the Episcopal Church in the United States. His remains were taken to New- town, and buried among the people with whom he had passed the greater part of his ministerial life. A Funeral Sermon was preached there by the Rev. Thomas C. Pitkin of New Haven, now (1858) the Eev. Dr. Pitkin of Albany. The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by Trinity College in 1831. He published a Sermon in 1810, preached at Vergennes, Vt., entitled " The Scripture Doctrine of the Election of Jacob and the Rejection of Esau considered." A second edition was published in 1828. Dr. Burhans was first married to Prudence, daughter of Obed Edson, at Lanesborough, Mass., October 12, 1788. She died on the 3d of May, 1803, the mother of two children, — a son and a daughter. He was married, a second time, on the 4th of November, 1804, to Catharine, daughter of the Hon. Peter Silvester of Kinderhook, N. Y. : she died on the 11th of March, 1823. He was married, a third time, to Mrs. Blakeslee, widow of the Rev. Edward Blakeslee,* on the 19th of November, 1823: she died on the 12th of March, 1840. He was married, a fourth time, to Mrs. Anna Noxon, widow of Dr. Noxon, in Philadelphia, on the 20th of May, 1852. She survived him, and is still living, at the advanced age of eighty-six. He had no children except by his first marriage ; and both of them are de- ceased. * Edwakd Blakeslee was born at North Haven, Conn., June 27, 1776. He became a member of Yale College, and continued till his Senior year, when he was obliged to leave, on account of the sickness and death of his parents, and consequently did not graduate. He was ordained Deacon, February 24, 1788, and Priest, June 5, 1793. The first three years after his ordination were spent in North Haven and its vicinity, but he was subsequently called to Derby as an Assistant to the Rev. Dr. Mansfield, whose daughter he had married two years before. He died July 15, 1797, aged thirty-one years. 414 EPISCOPALIAN. FROM THE REV SAMUEL BUEL. BECTOR OF CHRIST CHDRCH, POUGHKEEPSIB, N. T. PocQHKEEPSiE, January 16, 185&. Rev. and dear Sir : I fully intended to have replied earlier to your letter of inquiry concerning Dr. Burhans, but I hope that my answer, late as it is, may still be in season for your purpose. I first became acquainted with the Doctor, in the autumn of 1847, when I vis- ited this place, after having received a call to the Rectorship of the Church with which I am now connected. I found him a most pleasant old gentleman, and had afterwards abundant opportunity of knowing and appreciating his genial dis- position, his quick intelligence, his sincere piety and devotion, his lively interest in the work to which he had devoted the best of his days, and his warm attach- ment to the Church with which, both as a member and a minister, he had been so long identified. Most interesting was it to hear, from this aged servant of Christ, the vivid narratives which he gave of the scenes and occurrences of his ministerial life, and of remarkable events and epochs in the history of our Church, of many of which he could speak not only as a witness, but as a participant. Though he could not perform much ministerial labour, while I knew him, and though I never heard him preach, yet his interest in the work of his younger brethren was most lively, his conversation with them was most pleasant, and his practical suggestions and counsels full of wisdom and kindness. He seemed to live over again his own ministerial life in his sympathy with them, and the hearty God-speed he bade them in prosecuting the duties of their high vocation. He was the ancient soldier of Clirist, (so far as his ministry was concerned,) released from active service, after a long and honourable warfare, recounting tlio trials, and conflicts, and triumphs by which his career had been marked, and thus ministering to the encouragement of those who were just entering into his labours. He retained remarkabl}'^ the vigour of his powers, the liveliness and cheerfulness of his spirit. He employed himself much in reading and writing, and the additions he made to his knowledge he did not fail to convert into sub- stantial intellectual nutriment. He possessed naturally uncommon vigour of mind, and great quiclcness of perception. He also evinced a high degree of tact in his intercourse with men; and this must have availed him much, especially during the more active period of his life. He was eminently faithful to his Christian obligations, discharging every duty with scrupulous fidelity; and from a journal which he kept to the latest period of his life, it would appear that he was most careful in the discipline of his own spirit, and was unceasing in his efforts to grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. Only at the very last was the clearness of his intellectual vision abated, and his power of communing with surrounding friends and brethren, suspended. That cloud, I doubt not, was scattered, the moment he passed out of the dark valley. He rests from his long course of labour and trial, and we have a right to believe that his works do follow him, as the measure of a glorious reward. I may add that Dr. Burhans was a man of commanding personal appearance, of a lafge and well built frame, of a healthful and ruddy countenance, of a ner- vous temperament, and somewhat quick in his movements. His manners, though not highly polished, were simple and natural, and evinced, what he actually pos-v sessed, a fine genial spirit. I am. Rev. and dear Sir, with great respect. Very truly yours, SAMUEL BUEL. ALEXANDER VIETS GRISWOLD. ^l^ RT. REV. ALEXANDER VIETS GRISWOLD, D. D * 1795—1843. Alexander Viets Griswold was born in Simsbury, Conn., on the 22(1 of April, 1766. His father, Elisha Griswold, was from the Windsor branch of a numerous family, — the descendants of Matthew Griswold, who was among the early immigrants to New England. His mother, whose maiden name was Eunice Viets, was the grand-daughter of Alexander Viets, an eminent and wealthy Dutch physician, who had come from Europe and settled in New York, and had removed thence to Simsbury with a view to speculate in the Mines. She was the daughter of John Viets, a person of great physical and mental activity, and a niece of Roger Viets, who was graduated at Yale College in 1758, and though designed by his father to be a Presbyterian clergyman, not only entered the ministry in the Episcopal Church, but ultimately carried over to Episcopacy the whole family. An Episcopal Church was established at Simsbury about the year 1740, and the Rev. Roger Viets was its second Rector. The subject of this sketch was, from infancy, remarkable for quick per- ception, a gentle and amiable disposition, and a ready apprehension of Divine truth. He could read fluently at three years of age ; and he could boar an examination in the Church Catechism, not only as to the letter but the meaning of it, better than his older brothers and sisters. His mother, who was a person of remarkable energy and decision, exercised towards her children a most rigid discipline, and was particularly careful to give them full occupation. Alexander always had enough to do; but his extreme fondness for reading led him to economize, even in regard to his youthful sports, that he might find time to devote to this favourite employ- ment. He has left the following testimony to his own remarkable pre- cocity : — " I recolluct nothing in my childhood and youth more remarkable than the rapidity with which I learned the le.ssons given me. When about four or five years old, I remember being often required to read before strangers, who, at that day, vievFed ray forwardness as a groat wonderment. In about three days after the Greek Grammar was first put into ray hands, I had, without any other teaching, written in Greek characters, the first chapter in John's Gospel, interlined with a literal and verbal tr.insUition into Latin. The facility with which I obtained a knowledge of the Greek language much surprised ray teacher." His uncle, the Rev. Mr. Viets, seems to have had a very important agency in the formation of his character. He returned from England in Priest's Orders, about the time of Alexander's birth, and became an inmate in his (Alexander's) father's family, where he remained for a num- ber of years ; and, after he became settled in a house of his own, he took his nephew to live with him. Besides being an excellent scholar, he had a fine library, and was more than willing to render his young student every assistance, whether by means of books or instruction, in his power. As Mr. Viets remained steadfast to the interests of the Crown, during the period of the !^evolution, he found himself, at its close, in circumstances * Stone's Memoir of his Life. 416 EPISCOPALIAN. little favourable either to his comfort or usefulness ; and he therefore resolved to migrate to Nova Scotia. It was at first arranged that young Grriswold should accompany him ; but he was providentially prevented from doing so. Previously to this, it had been the desire of both the father and the uncle, as well as of himself, that he should take a regular collegiate course at New Haven ; and when that, owing to his father's broken for- tunes, seemed impracticable, it was proposed that he should join the Senior class in College, for admission to which he was supposed to be qualified ; but even that was prevented by a concurrence of adverse circumstances. In 17S5, immediately after relinquishing his purpose of entering College, he was married to Elizabeth Mitchelson, — a young lady who resided in the neighbourhood. After his uncle's * final removal to Nova Scotia, in 1787, he was, for some time, in doubt as to the course he should pursue. For some years previous, he had considered himself as designed for the Ministry ; and his own views and feelings had been all in that direction ; but he now relin- quished that idea, and, after taking the advice of his friends, set about the study of Law ; not so much, however, with the design of applying for admission to the Bar, as with a view to enlarge his general knowledge, and to qualify himself for any business of a public nature to which he might be called. He devoted a considerable part of his time to reading Law, while yet he continued his labours on the farm, for two or three years, still doubtful what was to be his ultimate occupation. During these years of indecision, his mind was by no means uninter- ested in the affairs of Religion and of the Church. He became a commu- nicant at the age of twenty, and was confirmed on the occasion of Bishop Seabury's first visit to the Simsbury Parish. His knowledge of music rendered him useful in teaching and leading the choir ; and when the par- ish was vacant, or its minister absent, he assisted occasionally in the other services. His friends, and among them the Rev. Mr. Todd,t who had suc- ceeded his uncle in the Rectory at Simsbury, now began to urge him to direct his thoughts to the Ministry ; and, after considerable deliberation and some mental conflict, he finally resolved, in the spring of 1794, to oflFer himself to the Convention as a candidate for Orders, At the meeting of the Convention in June, he was accordingly received, and soon after com- menced his labours in a small parish about twelve miles distant from his • Ret. Kogeb Vibts was appointed Missionary to Digby, N. S., in 1786, and died there in 1811, aged seventy -four. He published a Serious Address and Farewell Charge to the Mem- bers of the Church of England in Simsbury and the adjacent parts, 1787; and Three Sermons preached in Digby, and " dedicated to the Right Reverend Charles Inglia, D. D., the Learnedl the Pious, the Respected and Respectable Bishop of Nova Scotia," 1789. t Ambrose Todh was born in Northford, Conn., December 7, 1765; was graduated at Yale College in 1786; was ordained Deacon, in St. John's Church, Stamford, on the 1st of June 1787, by Bishop Seabury, and Priest, in St. Paul's Church, Norwalk, on the 7th of June, 1789', by the same Prelate. He was Rector of the churches in Simsbury and Granby from the time of his ordination until 1801, when he accepted the Rectorship of St. Pauls Church Hun- tington, lie officiated in this parish, as he had done in his previous charge, with great accept- ance, during the remainder of his life. He died on the 26th of July, 1809, leaving two sons both of whom are now (1857) in the ministry. His tombstone bears witness to "his piety and zeal as a preacher, and his benevolence and goodness as a man." He united great firm- ness in his own religious convictions with a commendable Christian liberality towards those who differed from him; as an illustration of which it is stated that he was in very intimate relations with the Rev. Dr. Ely, his Congregational neighbour, and that, during his last illness. Dr. E. often visited and prayed with him. ' ALEXANDER VIETS GRISWOLD. 4]^7 residence. The first morning of his officiating as candidate, he read a printed sermon, but ever afterwards preached his own. In the course of a few months, he was invited to officiate at three differ- ent stations ; but the one which he selected embraced the care of three parishes in the three towns of Plymouth, Ilarwinton, and Litchfield ; each being about eight miles distant from the others. After serving as a candi- date for the term required, — one year, he was admitted to Deacon's Orders at the next Annual Convention, which was held at Stratford, June 3, 1795. His admission to Priest's Orders soon followed, at a Convention holden in Plymouth, on the 1st of October following. This was the last ordination which Uishop Seabury held. Mr. Griswold retained his connection with these parishes for ten years. He resided, during the first six years, at Plymouth ; but in November, 1800, removed with his family to JSarwinton, where he continued until he left the State. Besides attending diligently to his appropriate duties as a minister, and sometimes making considerable journeys, somewhat in a mis- sionary capacity, he was engaged as a teacher of a district school in the winter, and not unfrequently as a day-labourer among his parishioners in the summer. His preaching, at this period, though never at variance with evangelical doctrine, was devoted more to the inculcation of the moral duties than to a direct exposition of the leading truths of Christianity. He lived in great harmony, not only with his own people, but with the sur- rounding community ; and each of his parishes increased much in numbers and strength under his ministry. , In 1803, he visited Bristol, R. I., chiefly with a view to relaxation, and. the gratification of his curiosity in seeing a part of the country to whichi he was a stranger. He passed a fortnight there, and preached two Sun- days, and the parish being vacant, he was urgently requested to take charge of it. But he promptly declined the ofi"er. In the course of the following, autumn, they repeated their invitation, but he still declined it, intendieg that, whenever he should remove, it should be to some place as far South, as Pennsylvania. Before the close of the winter, still another and more pressing solicitation was sent to him that he would consent to take charge of the Bristol Parish , and he now made up his mind, in view of all the circumstances, that he was bound to consider this a call of Divine Provi- dence, and of course bound to accept it. He, accordingly, did accept it, though not without a painful struggle ; and in May, 1804, removed with his family to Bristol. Bishop Jarvis had given his consent that he should spend a few years there, in the hope, however, that he would, after that, return to his Diocese. Mr. G-riswold's removal to Bristol seems to have been followed by a con- siderable change in the character of his ministry. His preaching assumed a more strongly evangelical type ; and had less to do with matters of con- troversy, as connected with the Episcopal Church, and he soon' became a favourite there, as he had been in Connecticut, with Christians of other communions than his own. The congregation rapidly increased, so that, in a few years, an enlargement of the church edifice became necessary for their accommodation. His support, however, was not s& amplebut that he. Vol. V. 53 418 EPISCOPALIAN. was obliged to add to the duties of the Rectorship those of a teacher of a select school. In 1809, he suffered a severe and dangerous illness, from which he had a very gradual recovery. Finding that the labour of preaching three times each Sunday, which he had voluntarily taken upon himself, in connection with his constant engagements in his school, and some other official duties, was an overmatch for his strength, he began to call to mind the words of Bishop Jarvis, that, after a few years absence, he should expect him to return to his Diocese. He, therefore, visited Connecticut, and received an earnest invitation to the Rectorship of St. Michael's Church, Litchfield. He had accepted the invitation, and was about to make the necessary arrangements for the removal of his family, when he was diverted from his purpose by an occurrence entirely unlocked for by himself, which at once greatly enlarged the sphere of his labour and responsibility. Measures had now been for some time in progress for the organization of a new (the Eastern) Diocese ; and that organization was perfected by the Convention held in Boston, on the 29th of May, 1810. On the 31st of that month, Mr. Grriswold was elected Bishop. He at first utterly declined the office, on the ground that he did not possess the requisite qualifications ; but when he gave to the subject more reflection, and especially when he found that some of his brethren in whose judgment he was accustomed to confide most, thought it his duty to accept it, he waived his objections, and in due time signified his acceptance. He was consecrated in Trinity Church, New York, in May, 1811, by Bi^op White, assisted by Bishops Provoost and Jarvis. In 1810, the Degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him, both by Brown University and by the College of New Jersey. In 1812, he received the same honour from Harvard College. The year 1812 was signalized by an extensive revival of religion under his ministry. The following is his own account of it : — " In the year 1812, there was in Bristol an awakened attention to the subject of Religion, which was very wonderful, and the like of which I had never before wit- nessed. It commenced among the members of my parish, when no sucli thing was looked for, nor indeed thought "of. No unusual efforts had been made with any view to such an excitement. My administering of Confirmation in the parish, a few months previously, had not improbably some effect. My recent ordination to the Episcopate was the means of awakening my own mind to more serious thoughts of duty, as a Minister of Christ; and in consequence, I had no doubt with more earnest zeal preached ' Jesus Christ. and Him crucified.' Thechange which I first noticed was the appearance of increased seriousness in the congregation; especially on leaving the church after service. . . . Some soon began to express a religious concern respect- ing their spiritual state, and were anxious to know ' what they should do to be saved.' "Inconsequence of this awakened and increasing inquiry, I began to meet with them one or two evenings in the week, not only that we might unite in praying that they might be led into the way of truth, and enjoy the comforts of hope and of peace in believing, but that I might save time to myself and them by conversing at the same time with a number who were in the same state of mind. I soon found that the num- ber of such inquirers had increased to about thirty; and in a very short time, the awakening was general through the town, and very wonderful." From the time of his Consecration as Bishop, the remoteness of the place of his residence from Boston,— 'the chief ecclesiastical centre of his Diocese, had been felt to be a serious inconvenience ; and the wish had often been expressed that he might have a parish in Boston or its immediate vicinity. At the opening of the year 181.3, an opportunity for gratifying this wish ALEXANDER VIETS GRISWOLD. 4I.9 occurred in a unanimous call to the Rectorship of St. Peter's Church, Salem. And while he was yet deliberating as to the course of duty, the call was repeated with still greater urgency ; but he felt constrained, after all, to decline it. In the spring of 1816, a similar effort was made to secure his settlement at Cambridge ; but here again, though there was much to render Cambridge an attractive residence to him, and though he seems at first to have been not a little inclined to listen to the proposal, and actually kept the parish a good while in suspense, yet the result of all his reflection on the subject was a conviction that he ought still to remain at Bristol. In 1829, St. Peter's Church in Salem extended to him another call, which he thought it his duty to accept ; and, accordingly, sometime in the winter of 1830, he took an affectionate leave of his charge at Bris- tol, and removed to Salem, taking the Rectorship of St. Peter's. This charge he held until the year 1835, when his duties became so manifold and pressing, in connection with the inroads of age, that he thought it his duty to resign it ; and from that time, he confined himself entirely to the duties of the Episcopate. During the winter of 1837, the Bishop had a most obstinate attack of bronchitis, attended with a painful cough and much suffering, from which it was considered as doubtful whether he would ever recover. He remained for some time in a very feeble state, and it was manifest that there was little prospect of his being able again to discharge all the duties pertaining to hit. office. Under these circumstances, by advice of the Standing Com- mittee, he proposed to the Convention that assembled in June, 1838, the election of an Assistant; and the Rev. Alonzo Potter, D. D., was accord- ingly chosen. He was absent, in Europe, at the time, but declined accept- ing the ofiice. In November, 1842, at a special session of the State Con- vention of Massachusetts, another election was made, and the person chosen was the Rev. Manton Eastburn, D. D., of New York. Bishop Griswold's last ordaining act was to consecrate him to his office, on the 29th of Decem- ber, 1842, in Trinity Church, Boston. Notwithstanding the Bishop's great activity and unwearied perseverance in the discharge of his duties, he suffered, during several of his latter years, from different forms of disease. In addition to the bronchial affec- tion already mentioned, he had, at one time, a slight attack of paralysis, and also an occasional irregularity of the pulse, which indicated a diseased state of the heart. On Saturday, the 11th of February, 1843, he closed a series of essays which he had been writing on the Reformation, and pro- ceeded to a neighbouring town to meet an official appointment. On Wednesday, the 15th, he was again with his family, and engaged in his accustomed duties. Towards the close of the day, he had occasion to call at the house of Bishop Eastburn, and he set out and walked with his usually firm step till he had reached the door. At that moment he fell, and the next moment his spirit had fled. The physicians agreed that his death was occasioned by a disease of the heart. His Funeral Sermon was preached in Trinity Church, Boston, by Bishop Eastburn, his Assistant and Successor. The following are Bishop G-riswold's publications : — A Sermon delivered in Trinity Church, Boston, at the First Meeting of the Convention of the 420 EPISCOPALIAN. Eastern Diocese, 1810. An Address to the Diocesan Convention at Windsor, Vt., 1816. Christ's Warning to the Churches: A Sermon delivered at the Opening of the General Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America, assembled in Trinity- Church, in the City of New York, 1817. An Address to the Biennial Convention, held at Greenfield, Mass., 1818. Pastoral Letter to the Members of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the Eastern Diocese, 1821. Two Sermons in the National Preacher, 1827. Discourses on the most important Doctrines and Duties of the Christian Religion, 8vo., 1830. Bishop Griswold was the father of fourteen children, one of whom (George) became an Episcopal clergyman, but died before his father. One son only survived him. FROM THE RET. HEMAN HUMPHREY, D. D. PiTTsriELD, Mass., June 6, 1854. Dear Sir : There are niany persons living who can tell you more from recol- lection concerning the late Bishop Griswold than I can, and yet what I do remember of him is quite at your service. He was Rector of the Episcopal Church in Harwinton, Conn., while I was engaged in teaching a school there, from 1800 to 1803, and not only had I some of his children among my pupils, but for a short time I was a member of his family. I retain a vivid recollection of him, and it gives me pleasure, even at this late day, to testify my high esti- mation of his character. It was hardly possible that he should impress any person, even upon the. most slight and casual acquaintance, otherwise than very favourably. His whole appearance, manner, conversation, bespoke a man of excellent sense, and of a genial, benevolent spirit. He was of about the middling stature, of an open and benign countenance, and perfectly bland and unassuming in his manners. In his tongue was the law of kindness. While he was a stranger alike to dissimu- lation and timidity, he was as far as possible from being precipitate, either in his judgments or his expressions; and in every situation and relation he evinced the most considerate regard to circumstances. He was a favourite, not only with his own immediate flock, hut among Christians of other communions, and indeed, as far as I know, with all who had the privilege of his acquaintance. As a preacher, he had then, as he had through life, the reputation of being evangelical, sensible, and instructive. Though I did not sit under his ministry, I knew well the high estimation in which his congregation held him as a preacher, and I heard- him enough to be satisfied that they did not appreciate him too highly. His printed sermons show that he had a well disciplined mind, a cultivated taste, and an intimate practical as well as speculative knowledge of the great truths of the Gospel. His voice was not very strong, but insinuating, and somewhat musical, and his manner altogether was agreeable and impres- sive; and though you could not say that he was a pulpit orator, there was little in his style of address that you could wish to correct. He was, at that time, • the minister of a small country parish, but such was his standing as a man, a preacher, and a pastor, that it could have been no matter of surprise to those who knew him then, that he afterwards attained to the highest rank in liis denoBiination. Bishop Griswold (I speak of him as he was when I knew him, and I never heard that any change subsequently occurred) belonged to the class of Episco- palians commonly called Low Church, and his Christian regards and sympathies ALEXANDER VIETS GRISWOLD. 421 were far from being limited to his own denomination. But, while his Christian affections went out towards all who love our Lord Jesus Christ iu sincerity, he was, from conviction, a decided Episcopalian, and conformed faithfully, as he was bound to do, to the order of his Church. As I call up his revered image before me now. after the lapse of more than half a century, I think of him, not merely as a good minister of Jesus Christ, but as a model in all the relations of life. Truly yours, H. HUMPHREY. FROM THE REV. STEPHEN H. TYNG, D. D. New York, June 5, 1855. Rev. and dear Sir : My excessive occupation and my limited physical power have united to prevent an earlier compliance with your request for some private recollections of Bishop Griswold. And even now, so minute has been the account of him in Dr. Stone's Biography, that I fear I shall hardly be able to add any thing of value. My acquaintance with Bishop Griswold began in my boyhood. When he was elected and consecrated as Bishop of the Eastern Diocese, the relation of my father, as a prominent layman in the Church in the city of Boston, brought the Bishop naturally much into our connection and observation. His venerable aspect had, even at that age, come upon him. Affliction and care had united to do that which time could not have done at his age. He was but in the middle of life, but he was nearly as white as when thirty more years had passed over him. And to our boyish New England eyes, there was a commau'ding influence in his aspect, which engaged our reverence from the first hour I saw him. That was a time, however, when respect for age and station was with us a provincial characteristic. Not to have taken off my hat to the Governor, or to the well known ministers of Boston, when I met them in the street, would have been an offence, as much against my own inherited conscience, as against the parental instructions of our habitation. The prevailing feeling among New England youth was reverence for relative authority. And it was into the midst of such feelings that Bishop Griswold came from . Bristol to Boston in the year 1812, when he first appeared before me in my father's house. That I am now more than ten years older than he was then, it is impossible for me to conceive. I flirst saw him in the chancel of old Trinity Church. His tall and stately figure, his heavenly countenance, benignant in expression, and lovely in complexion and feature, his humble, solemn air, his lowly demeanor, his quiet, tranquil motions, were such a contrast to the florid elegance of Dr. Gardiner, our Rector, that the two men seemed like inhabitants of different worlds. From childhood, I had been used only to Dr. Gardiner's style. His unequalled reading, and his flowing diction, with solf-confident command in the pulpit, had filled my young imagin°ation, as the highest development of a public man. The lameness and rude dress of country ministers received but little respect among the crowded auditors of aristocratic Trinity. Their hostility to any thing they deemed com- mon, had almost driven from their desk every minister but Dr. Gardiner him- self. ' Bishop Griswold came quietly and meekly into the chancel, in the presence of this inflated congregation. Few of them had ever seen him. Every variety of story had been told about his vulgar origin and education. He had never had a College education. This was a defect that could not be magnified in the view of a Boston congregation at that time. I remember, among other things, it was said by some that he had been, brought up a blacksmith. These stories were not malicious, but the mere idle conversations of self-indulgent people. Amidst such a people and such impressions Bishop Griswold came. And his 422 EPISCOPALIAN. first aspect commanded our universal homage. There seemed every thing in him which could be asked in one occupying his post. And his early mingling in our families proved him at once to be a gentleman of refinement, a scholar of varied attainment, a companion of the most attractive wisdom, and a friend in whose sweetness of manner all our fears of rigid seclusion were completely cast away. His visits were then hailed by us with delight, and he never appeared in Trinity or in Cambridge, to which we afterwards removed, but wo welcomed him with joy, and delighted to listen to him and follow hiiu. This was the early impres- sion of Episcopacy on my youthful mind. And it had much to do, I have no doubt, in fastening ray strongest attachments around all the institutions and habits of the Church of my fathers. In the continuance of this kind of acquaintance with Bishop Griswold, some seven years passed with me. Then I was placed in more immediate connection with him. In May, 1819, I first saw him in Bristol. He was at work in his garden by the side of his house, as 1 walked towards it — the same venerable, dignified man, but in a relation in which I had never seen him before. It is hard for us in age to account for all the relative impressions of our youth; but such had been the veneration with which his public and ofScial character and ministry had inspired me, that had I come suddenly upon Washington, holding a plough in his field, it would not have arrested my attention more than did this first view of Bishop Griswold, hoeing amidst the cabbage stalks which he had planted in his garden. Episcopal boys in New England, in those days, were brought up with a reverence for the oflice of a Bishop, which has also become one of the bygone things. It was not as a common minister of venerable age that I regarded him. And whether others can enter into the feeling or not, I felt a peculiar awe, which led me to stop in silence, and observe him for some time, before I entered his house. Yet there he met me just as familiarly as if I felt a perfect equality to him. A few months afterwards, I became a member of his congregation, and a student under his direction. Two years passed away in this happy personal relation before he sent me out to preach the Gospel, as God had taught me through him. They were years of the happiest possible intercourse. He was always the same kind, wise and faithful guide and teacher. The nearest acquaintance only increased my reverence, as it increased my aflection. I cannot but say, even now, that I look bade upon him as a wonderful man. He knew every thing. He could answer every question, and meet every objection. Yet his relations to us, and to the poorest of his flock, brought him out always, in the most humble and complying character, to meet every difficulty, and to tranquillize every disquietude, personal or social. Should I select a position in which I remember him with per- haps the most vivid delight, it would be one of our private religious meetings, where, in the dim light of a few rustic candles, he would sit and expound the word of God, and then give room to the voice of exhortation and prayer, from the students or other Christians, sometimes even females who felt an impulse to speak or pray. He had a peculiar regard for the freedom of the spirit, which, when sometimes some of the younger Joshuas were led to say, " My Lord Moses rebuke them," would at once refuse to interpo.se any command. He delighted in social religion, and in making these meetings as completely social as was pos- sible, divesting them from all formality, and himself from any mere adventitious circumstance of superiority. I see him often as he was, seated in the clear obscure of these evening gatherings, his white head shining amidst all the light which could be gathered for him on a little table by his side, and his people crowding from his side to the distant door. It was a solemn, happy, peaceful place and scene. It was a high, holy and honourable employment. Nothing has ever impressed me more. Upon nothing in life past does my memory more delight to dwell. Days, and persons, and employments like those, are also all bygone, never to return. ALEXANDER TIETS GEISWOLD. 423 Thus my years of study passed with him. He kept us busy in preaching and exhortation, as well as in study. I was but nineteen years of age, when I first stood up at his side to give, by his command, the word of exhortation to the people. He thus trained us as preachers. In the two years of my residence with him, perhaps I preached as much as in any other two years of my life. Yet lie kept us busy in study also. And when I was ordained a Deacon, though he had directed all my studies, he spent eiglit hours in examining me in the presence of two Presbyters, who were to present me for Orders. From that period, for many years, our relations were of a still more tender kind. Over these memory loves to dwell in silence. I can yet say notliing. His public life was before the world admired and venerated. His private life was, in our warm hearts, loved and confided in, I might almost say adored, as few others on earth can ever have been. I could wander on through many incidents. Perhaps I have already tres- passed over the bounds of stately propriety, in the few notes of memory which I have thus thrown together. May we meet him in the blessedness of our Mas- ter's Kingdom, and unite our common songs of praise before the Throne. Your friend and brother in Christ, STEPHEN H. TTNG. FROM THE RT. REV. THOMAS M. CLARK, D. D., BISHOP OF THE DIOCESE Or KHODE ISLAND. Pkovidenoe, December 7, 1857, Dear Sir: In the early part of raj'^ ministry in Boston, I enjoyed the privilege of residing for a while in the family of Bishop Griswold, and thus became some- what familiar with his daily habits and style of life. It is sometimes said that you know very little how men carry themselves in the privacy of their families from what is seen of them in public : those who are courteous and bland on the Exchange, may be habitually rough and ill-mannered at their own table — those who are eloquent and saintly in the pulpit, may be very poor Christians in the domestic circle. Bishop Griswold was the most consistent and blameless man I ever knew. I never saw him do a deed, or heard him utter a word, in the most entire privacy of his family, that would not bear to be recorded and published to the world. And yet, so far from ever seeming to act under constraint, or contrary to his nature, the impressionof instinctive goodness, guileless sincerity, and transparent genuineness, was conveyed in his every look and movement. lie was not a man, however, whose whole character could be comprehended at a glance; for there was in him a combination of what are generally considered con- tradictory and discordant qualities. Meek, humble, unostentatious, so gentle as to be called " the beloved disciple;" when the occasion demanded it, he could reprove and rebuke with all authority, and those who presumed too much upon his forbearance, were sure to be sorry for it in the end. Never seeking the pre- cedence from any personal ambition, supremely indifferent to mere titles and places of honour, he was resolute, some might say even obstinate, in maintain- ing his legitimate rights, and if a great principle were at stake, he would never give way to his opponent one hair's breadth. This was the most striking con- trast in his character, and it was most manifest to those who knew him best. With all the simplicity and guilelessness of a child, he possessed a discrimina- ting knowledge of human nature, and could read men far more thoroughly than they suspected. His observation of character was keen, and his conclusions were generally accurate. He never appeared to do any thing that was intended to draw other people out, but he watched their spontaneous utterances and actions, and so read their hearts. He could bear long and patiently with loqua- cious ignorance and conceit; but, if his power of endurance gave way, and his 4^24 EPISCOPALIAN. feelings found vent, it was lil^e the crack of a sharp whip on the raw flesh, which the offender would not be likely very soon to forget. He was one of the most taciturn, and at the same time one of the most genial, of men; dignified and reserved, without being cold or repulsive. You opened your heart to him instinctively, and if there were any real claim upon his sym- pathy, you were sure to receive it. He had no taste for noisy jnirth or broad jesting — I never heard him laugh aloud, but his conversation often scintillated with a kind of quiet, quaint humour, that conveyed, in a playful remark, some very pungent truth. On one occasion, he was asked why he did not reprove the clergy for smoking in his presence, to which he was known to have a strong aver- sion, and he said pleasantly, — " I suppose that the young gentlemen suffered very much while they were acquiring the habit, and it would be a pity to allow them no compensation for their efforts." I remember that a clergyman once asked him, at his own table, why he was so taciturn, and he replied, — " I talked as much as other people when I was young, and said a great many foolish things; but I have never been sorry for any thing that I never said." He was a pattern of industry, and his reading was almost omniverous. You would never find him in the cars, in the stage-coach, in a country inn, without a book in his hand or in his pocket. He possessed a great deal of information which he never used, and few persons were aware of the extent of his acquisi- tions; he never affected learned talk or made a parade of lore in his writings. Not that his mind was a mere reservoir of miscellaneous knowledge, — a lumber- room of facts; for he had so sound an intellectual digestion that he absorbed only what was really nutritious. His intellect was comprehensive, symmetrical, well-balanced, eminently fair and candid, and his judgment of books and systems was marked by clear, strong, manly common-sense. I have heard him overturn an elaborate, fine spun, plausible theory, by some plain but irrefutable practical inference, that destroyed the whole structure at a single blow. For this was his mode of testing dogmas and systems, — by the obvious inferences that flew from them, rather than by the compactness of their logical proof. In the expression of feeling, he was far from being demonstrative; he could suffer intensely and " make no sign;" only God and his angels ever knew what he endured as, one by one, the members of a large and devoted household fell away from his side, until he was left almost alone upon the earth. While the chords of his soul were vibrating mournfully, and the voices of the departed were whispering in the desolate chambers of his heart, a serene and holy faith enabled him to walk calmly, almost cheerfully through his routine of daily duty, and the hand of Jesus gave him strength. Of the moral quality of the man it is more difficult to speak at large, because of the uniform symmetry of his character. The graces of some Christians are made the more conspicuous by the shadows which form the natural back-ground of the picture: his life had the soft, russet tint which distinguishes a beautiful autumn day, when there are no clouds in the sky, and the winds are all silent. What are sometimes called the "minor morals" wereall conspicuous in him. I do not believe that he ever failed to meet an appointment to the minute, through any fault or carelessness of his own — let the storm rage so violently that not a .single worshipper would venture out to church, he was sure to be there. It would be impossible to associate with his name any thing mean, or sordid, or untrue. He was unselfish almost to a fault — if what was due him for his patient and laborious service in the ministry were not paid, he never asked for it or made any complaint — if a poor man needed charity, he would share his last dol- lar with the sufferer. Resolute and fixed in his own convictions, he always allowed to others the same liberty of private judgment which he claimed for himself, and was prompt to recognise the elements of Christian character wher- ever they appeared. Unless his conscience confirmed their policy, no eoclesias- ALEXANDER VIETS GRISWOLD. 425 tical party could rely upon him ; if any measure seemed to him sound and right, he would sustain it, let the originators of the movement be who they might. The style of his piety took its tone from the general character of the man; he never appears to have had any thing like a tumultuous religious experience; it was not in his nature to oscillate between extremes; but his faith quietly pene- trated his life, and moulded his whole moral organization. No one was ever annoyed by any pretensions to superior sanctity from him; while none could be in his presence without feeling that he breathed a holy atmosphere. He was not much given to the technical language of piety; but you never heard a word from his lips, inconsistent with his profession, or that could be quoted to the injury of religion. His preaching was distinguished by the same moderation, good sense, and care- ful equipoise which marked his life — it was edifying, instructive and interesting. He never rode in the whirlwind, never thundered or lightened, but his speech distilled as the dew, and where he ministered, the barren places became fruitful. He was no rhetorician, no sentence-maker, no manufacturer of tropes; but, in the truest sense of the word, he was a successful and efffective preacher, because he never diverted attention from the truth to himself, and the people went home, not to discuss the merits of the speaker, but to meditate upon what he had said. I never saw him move his hand in the pulpit, except to turn the leaf of his man- uscript, and once, when I remarked upon this peculiarity, he replied with a smile, — " I am not in the habit of preaching with my arms." In his doctrinal views, he could neither be designated as a Calvinist or an Arminian; and although in his ecclesiastical sympathies, he was generally ranged with what is called the "Evangelical party" in the Church, his soul was large enough to embrace all who love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, whether they belonged to his school of Theology or not. He called no man Master upon earth, but faithfully followed in the steps of Him, with whom, we cannot doubt, he now walks in glory. Very respectfully yours, THOMAS M. CLARK. RT. REV. THEODORE DEHON, D. D.* 1797—1817. Theodore Dehon was born in Boston, on the 8th of December, 1776. His father was a French emigrant, who had settled at Boston a few years iDcfore the birth of this son, was strongly attached to the Episcopal Church, and died in the year 1796, leaving six daughters and four sons, — Theodore being the third son. His mother, who lived till the year 1804, was a lady of high intellectual and moral qualities, and was remarkably qualified for, as well as attentive to, her maternal duties. From early boyhood, he evinced a more than commonly serious turn of mind, and in due time was admitted by Bishop Seabury to the rite of Con- firmation, — a rite to which, through his whole subsequent life, he always attached great importance. For seven years, he attended a Latin School in Boston, under the care of a Mr. Hunt, well known as an able and » Gadsden's Fun. Serm. and Essay on his Life.— Dalcho"s Ch. S. C— MS. from Rev. Dr. Jenks. Vol. V. . 54 426 EPISCOPALIAIf. accomplished teacher. In 1791, he enteved Harvard University, and at his graduation, in 1795, received, as he had before done at school, the highest honour of his class. He imhibed a strong affection for his Alma Mater, and for several families in the neighbourhood with whom he became intimate, which he retained till the close of life. Shortly after his graduation, he was invited by Bishop Smith, Principal of the College at Charleston, S. C, to become head-master of that insti- tution ; but though the place would have been both an honourable and a profitable one, he declined it, on the ground, as is believed, that he was not willing to submit to any unnecessary delay in entering on his profes- sion. Eor nearly a year after he left College, he devoted much of his time to the diligent study of the Scriptures, seeking Divine guidance, " that he might have a right judgment in all things, that his principles might be rightly and firmly fixed before he entered the sacred ministry." He was engaged at this time in teaching a school. Sometime before the close of the year 1796, he commenced officiating as lay reader at Cambridge, and was afterwards employed to perform the same service for a much larger congregation, at Newport, E.. I. He prosecuted his theological studies under the direction of the Rev. Dr. Parker, of Trinity Church, Boston, with whom he enjoyed the closest intimacy, and whose memory he always affectionately cherished. On the 9th of October, 1797, Mr. Dehon was chosen minister of Trinity Church, Newport, and was requested to obtain Orders with a view to his settlement. He was accordingly ordained Deacon, by Bishop Bass, at Newburypori, on the 24th of December following ; and on the 7th of Jan- uary, 1798, he entered upon the duties of his ministry. Though he was only twenty-two years of age, his labours met with universal acceptance, and, by his uncommon discretion and address, he quickly succeeded in settling a controversy in the church, by which its harmony had long been interrupted. He was instrumental also of reviving the practice of public baptism, which had gone much into disuse ; though the change was effected not without some difficulty, and as the result of persevering effort. While in Newport, his chief exercise out of doors was the cultivation of his gar- den, and his chief recreation within doors was the cultivation of the mind and heart of his youngest sister. The winter of 1802-03 Mr. Dehon spent at the South for the benefit of his health. As the climate proved favourable to his delicate constitu- tion, his health so much improved that he was able to preach several times both in Charleston and in Savannah, and in each place was listened to with great admiration ; and he was even spoken of as a suitable person to become the Bishop of the Diocese of South Carolina, though he was then but twenty-seven years of age. In September, 1803, after his return to his parish in Newport, the Vestry of St. Philip's Church in Charleston invited him to take the place of Assistant Minister, vacated by the death of the Rev. P. M. Parker.* * Petek Manigault Parker was born in Charleston, S. C, February 19, 1774, and was graduateU at Yale College in 1793. Having devoted himself to the ministry, he pursued his studies in New York, under the superintendence of Dr. (afterwards Bishop) Benjamin Moore, and was ordainod Deacon in 1795, by Bishop Provoost, of that Diocese. On his return to Caro- lina, he was invited to St. John's, Berkeley, April 3, 1796, and resigned that Cure in 1802, to take upon him the office of Assistant Minister of St. Philip's, Charleston. In the spring of THEODORE DEIION. 427 But, nothwithstanding tlie climate was more congenial, the congregation larger, the society more extended, and the means of general improvement much better in Charleston than in Newport, he preferred that his existing relations with his people should not be disturbed. In 1804, another effort was made by St. Philip's Church to secure the ser- vices of Mr. Dehon. On the death of their Rector, the Rev. Thomas Frost,* they invited him to succeed to the Rectorship ; but this invitation also he declined chiefly on account of his health, as a painful scrofulous tumour in his neck required immediate surgical attention. He went shortly after to Boston, and the dangerous operation, which proved to be nothing less than laying bare the carotid artery and the jugular vein, was successfully per- formed by Dr. Warren of that city. He endured it with the utmost forti- tude and composure, and after it was over, inspected by means of a mirror, the circulation of the blood so near to his heart. In the year 1808, he distinguished himself as a member of the General Convention at Baltimore, by his temperate but decided opposition to the proposal for setting forth additional Hymns — a measure which he regarded as an unwarrantable innovation upon the Service of the Church. In the year 1809, he was offered the Rectorate of St. Michael's Church, Charleston, then vacant by the removal of the Rev. Nathaniel Bowen to the Diocese of New York. His health having now become extremely delicate, without any prospect of improvement, so long as he remained in a Northern climate, he determined to visit South Carolina, and in the course of the winter make up his mind as to his future residence. With great delicacy and candour, he stated to the Vestry that, as St. Philip's Church had twice invited him to become their minister, he should feel bound, if they were still without a Rector, to comply with their request, (provided he were to remove from Newport,) rather than to accept the Rectorship of any other church. He, however, did become the Rector of St. Michael's, and for seven years had the sole charge of the large congre- gation of that parish, devoting himself to its interests with the most unre- mitting assiduity. that year he went to New York, and received Priest's Orders from Bishop Moore, on the 2d of June. He returned immediately to Charleston, and died of bilious fever on the 23d of July following. ♦Thomas Frost was bom in 1769, at Pulham, near Norwich, England; was graduated at Caius and Gonville College, Cambridge, in 1780, and obtained the prize as wrangler. JUe was afterwards chosen Fellow of thai College, and was ordained Deacon, March 11, 1781, by Dr. Yonge, Bishop of Norwich; and Priest, June 6, 1784, by Dr. Bagot, Bishop of Norwich. Ha officiated as Curate in the Parishes of Ingham and Uedderly, in Norfolk. Though he had a fair he served during eighteen years. In 1787, he was married to Elizabeth, daughter of Richard Downes, formerly a merchant in Charleston. He died on the 18th of July, 1804, leaving a widow and six children. He was an animated and engaging preacher, and remarkably attentive to the sick and afflicted. .,-„,, One of his sons, Thomas Downs, became a clergyman. He was horn in Charleston on the 24:th of February, l79i; was graduated at Yale College in 1813; prosecuted his theological studies under Bishop Dehon, during which time he taught a small school ; was ordained by Bishop Dehon on the 2l8t of February, 1815; and was elected Assistant in St. Philip'j Church, Charieston, on the 12th of March following. In October, 1817,. he was compelled, on account of hemorrhage from the lungs, to visit Cuba, and having experienced much benefit, returned in May, 1818. The next year, in consequence of another attack, he sailed aiiain for Havana, on the 4th of April. After gaining some temporary relief, he died suddenly on the 16th of Alay, leaving a widow and daughter. His remains lie buried in the church-yard ut La^nira, in the Parish of St. Mark's. He was distinguished for independence, sympathy and eharity, and was a highly attractive preacher. 428 EPISCOPALIAN. In 1809, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by the College of New Jersey. On the 20th of Febr^uary, 1812, Dr. Dehon was elected, by a unanimous vote of the Convention, Bishop of the Diocese of South Carolina, and was consecrated in Philadelphia, by Bishop White, assisted by Bishops Hobart and Jarvis, on the 15th of October following. On his return, a compli- mentary Address was presented to him by the clergymen of his Diocese, which he gratefully received, and gracefully responded to. He soon showed himself fully adequate to the new duties that devolved upon him, and by his mildness, promptness, and faithfulness, commended himself not only to his Clergy, but to all who had the opportunity of noticing his official con- duct. In May, 1814, the General Convention was held in Philadelphia. In consequence of the war at that time existing between Great Britain and the United States, Bishop Dehon was obliged to make the journey by land, and return at a sickly season ; but he still thought it his duty to incur the hazard. His apprehensions of danger were fully realized ; for he returned in August, and was immediately laid upon a sick bed. In May, 1817, he went again to attend the General Convention in New York, and on that occasion, more perhaps than on any other in his life, earned for himself bright laurels. His influence is said to have pervaded both Houses of the Convention. The question in which he took the deepest interest, and which he had now the pleasure to see decided in accordance with his wishes, had respect to the establishment of a Seminary, under the patronage and control of the whole Church, for the education of candidates for the minis- try. After the sessions of the Convention had closed, he proceeded to New England, visited his former congregation in Newport, and had the pleasure of meeting many of his friends there once more around the Lord's table. He made a hasty visit also to Boston, and then returned to Charleston, in his accustomed health, after an absence of about six weeks. On Sunday, the 27th of July, he officiated at Sullivan's Island, preach- ing twice, and administering the Communion. The next day he attended the funeral services, and officiated at the burial, of Mrs. Fowler, wife of the Rev. Andrew Fowler,* and wrote to her husband, who was absent, a most touching letter, informing him of his bereavement. There is reason to believe that his disease (the Yellow Fever) was contracted from his fre- • Andrew Fowler was a native of Guilford, Conn. ; wa« graduated at Yale College in 1783 ; was ordained by Bishop Proroost, of New York, Deacon, June 21, 1789, and Priest, June 11, 1790. During the last two years he was in College, he read prayers two Sundays in five at New Haven, and the remaining three Sundays at West Haven, by request of the Rector, Dr. Hubbard, and by permission of the President, Dr. Stiles. After he was in Orders, he was Rector of the United Churches at Peekskill and Highlands, N. Y., and subsequently of the Church at Bedford, in the same State. He resided on Long Island about six years, and then went to Philadelphia, and remained there and in that Jieighbourhood about one year. After this, he lived in New Jersey ten years, and was successively Rector of St. Peter's Church, Spotswood, of Christ Chnreh, Shrewsbury, and Christ Church, Middletown. He then returneil to New York, and had the charge of Bloomingdale Church, where he remained till he removed to Carolina. On the 3d of February, 1807, he was elected Rector of St. Bartholomew's Parish, S. C, which place he resigned in 1811. In 1812, he visited Camden, S. C, as a missionary from "the Protestant Episcopal Society for the advancement of Christianity in South Caro- lina," where his labours were highly useful. The same year he laboured for several months in Columbia, S. C, where he collected a respectable congregation, which soon after built a com- modious church. In 1819, he laboured for some time at Chatham, S. C, by appointment of the Bishop, as a missionary from the " Society of Young Men and others," and was subsequently appointed for a longer period through the patronage of the Protestant Episcopal Society. He died at a very advanced age in the year 1851. THEODORE DEHON. 429 quent visits to the sick bed of this lady. This terrible malady, which had appeared very early, and was prevailing with unusual severity, attacked the Bishop immediately after that sad letter to Mr. Fowler had been written ; and it soon became apparent that it would terminate in death. Though he was able to converse but little after he was attacked, what he did say evinced an abiding confidence in his Redeemer. Having, from a paroxysm of pain, uttered a sudden exclamation, he immediately said to oiie at his bedside, — "Do not suppose that I murmur;" and added "Be still, and know that I am God." He declared that his trust in God had never been shaken : that he knew he should carry to God at death much sinfulness ; "but that," said he with emphasis, "is covered." In his last moments he was silent ; but his benignant and tranquil look left no doubt that his mind was in perfect peace. He died on the 6th of August, 1817, after an illness of six days, in the forty-first year of his age. His remains were interred in the body of the church, beneath the chancel, the scene of his ofiicial duties, and a marble slab placed over them, with a suitable inscrip- tion, by his Vestry. Another monument was placed by the Vestry on the East side of the church, as near as possible to his remains, with an inscrip- tion testifying at once their admiration and their grief; and another still was erected in Grace Church, the building of which he had generously pro- moted. A Sermon on occasion of his death was preached by the Rev. Christopher E. Gadsden, afterwards Bishop of the Diocese. In October, 1813, Bishop Dehon was married, in St. Philip's Church, to Sarah, youngest daughter of Nathaniel Russell, Esq. His son entered the ministry of the Episcopal Church, and is now (1857) Rector of the United Churches of St. Stephen and Upper St. John's, S. C; and one of the daughters became the wife of the Rev. Paul Trapier, Rector of Calva- ry Church, Charleston. Dr. Dehon published various Episcopal Charges, &c., during his life time; and after his death, a selection from his Discourses was published in two octavo volumes, which have now passed to a second edition. FROM THE RET. CHARLES BURROUGHS, D. D. PoRTSMOnTH, N. H., Norember 11, 1857. Rev. and dear Sir: It gives me pleasure to comply with your request for my recollections of that distinguished Prelate, Bishop Dehon, of South Carolina. It is now more than forty years since he was translated to the Church trium- phant. But he made upon my mind strong and most agreeable impressions, which seem now scarcely less vivid than when I saw him in all his living bright- ness and excellence. The first time I had the pleasure of seeing him was at Trinity Church, Boston, while he was Rector of a church, in Newport, E. I., and when he was about thirty years of age. His appearance was altogether attractive. His discourses were beautiful specimens of composition. His delivery was rather slow and measured; his pronunciation, in some respects, singular; his air a little formal; and his features feminine. But while listening to his sermons, you entirely forgot all these peculiarities. His saint-like aspect; his personal demeanour, strongly marked by gravity and dignity; his brilliant complexion; his intelligent and speaking face; his ringlets of hair of most becoming hue, hanging gracefully down to his shoulders; his beaming and expressive eye; his graceful gestures; 430 EPISCOPALIAN. and his sermon, no less rich in thought, than beautiful in language, almost enraptured my youthful mind. He seemed to me to be instinct with benevo- lence and loveliness, — the very image of the disciple whom Jesus loved. He reminded me too of the exquisitely beautiful picture of James Sautin, the cele- brated Protestant Divine at the Hague. He seemed to me to possess much of that singular, indescribable beauty that graced the younger Buckminster, who was his contemporary. The resemblance between them, however, was not of features, but of spirit, and of the happy and indelible impression tliey made on all who saw and heard them. Buckminster had more ardour and quickness of perception, but not more loveliness, than Dehon. The former had more social power and a more easy grasp of others' affections; but there was a calm beauty about the latter that gradually won the heart of every observer. Both were imaginative and poetical; and both possessed the finest powers of eloquence. The sermons which Mr. Dehon preached when I first heard him, are the thirty- fiixth and thirty-seventh of the second volume of his Discourses, recently issued from the press of Stanford, New York. The text of one was " There was a garden, and in the garden a new sepulchre." The text of the other was " Lord, to whom shall we go.' Thou hast the words of eternal life." The sermons, as they appear in print, are certainly very fine productions; but you could not, from reading them, form any idea of the impression they produced in the deliv- ery. On coming out of church, it was my good fortune to walk near the preacher who had so much delighted me; and there was every thing in his appearance out of the pulpit as well as in it to awaken my admiration. His figure was slender but admirably proportioned, and his whole manner was that of a most graceful imd accomplished gentleman. I heard him preach again during the General Convention of the Episcopal Church, held in the city of New York, in 1814. His sermon, at that time, was on the Liturgy, from the text — " His clothing is of wrought gold." That also is in the recent edition of his published Sermons. In respect to both matter and manner, it was exceedingly attractive, and I doubt whether any one who listened to it, has ever forgotten the personal grace and eloquence displayed by the preacher. Indeed I can scarcely imagine that any one who ever saw him should forget him. He was one of those few who daguerreotype themselves at full length on the memory and heart of every one with whom they have communion. He was cer- tainly a brilliant specimen of humanity. I loved him for his tender afiections. I respected him for his talents and learning. I admired him for his gentlemanly bearing, courtesy and grace. I honoured him for his integrity, virtue and piety. And, above all, I venerated him for the glorious niche that he filled in the Church of the living God. Allow me to conclude this communication by a brief extract, containing an eloquent allusion to Bishop Dehon, from an Address delivered by a distinguished scholar, before the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Harvard College, a few years after the Bishop's decease. " In this place, not many years since, one of our brethren, — a place so much more appropriate for himself than me, addressed and delighted you. I need not name him, who was distinguished in yonder Seminary for his early talents and virtues, and who employed the learning he there acquired in the service of reli- gion, in reclaiming the sinful, in confirming the pious, in convincing the scepti- cal, and in soothing the mourner. I need not name that pure and spotless man, whose example illustrated all the precepts he so eloquently uttered. Cut down in the midst of his days, from the object of universal love, he has become, alas! the object of universal lamentation. " He sleeps, by his own request, under the altar where he ministered, — in death as in life, adhering to the Church. The sun shines not on his grave, nor is it wet with the morning or the evening dew. But innocence kneels upon it; THEODORE DEHON. 43]^ purity bathes it in tears; and the recollections of the sleeping saint mingle Avith the praises of the living God. Oh, how dangerous is it to be eminent! The oak whose roots descend to the world below, while its summit towers to the world above, falls, with its giant branches, the victim of the storm. The osier shakes, and bends, and totters, and rises and triumphs in obscurity. And yet, who of you would owe his safety to his insignificance? Oh! how delightful it is to be eminent; — to win the race of usefulness; to live in the beams of well earned praise, and walk in the Zodiac among the stars!" Very truly, Kev. and dear Sir, Your friend and obedient servant, CHARLES BURROUGHS. FROM JOSEPH JOHNSON, M. D . Charleston, December 7, 1857. My dear Sir: My knowledge of Bishop Dehon reaches back to 1802 — the time when he first came to Charleston, — the motive for his visit being the improvement of his health. I met him casually, immediately after his arrival, and I was probably the first inhabitant of the city that he spoke to; for he asked me if I could put him in the way to find some respectable private boarding-house. 1 oflTered to show him where tlie Rev. Nathaniel Bowen then boarded, in Church Street, and he readily assented to my proposal. As we walked along togethei', I was struck with his feeble and sickly appearance; and he, on the other hand, observed that I appeared healthy and active, and asked me if I was a resident of the city. 1 told him that I was a native, and had scarcely ever lived out of it; and as to my health, it was by no means singular, as most of the inhabitants who were industrious and temperate were equally favoured. He expressed sur- prise at this information, and said that he had formed a different opinion. In due time he became a permanent resident of this place, and I had every opportunity, during the period of his ministry here, of observing his conduct and forming an opinion of his character. I have indeed very distinct and vivid recol- lections of him, as well as definite views of his leading characteristics; but I think I shall serve your purpose better by sending you an extract from the Dis- course delivered on the occasion of his death, by the Eev. Dr. Gadsden, one of his successors in the Episcopate, than I could, especially at this late day, by attempting an original sketch of his character. Dr. Gadsden was in the most intimate relations with him, and his judgment is to be received with the utmost confidence. He writes thus : — " Of the powers of his understanding it may be observed that they were of the first order; for in the various situations in which he was called to act, he always held the first rank. His talents were not so generally noticed as his virtues, and as those of other men who were really his inferiors; for they were concealed in a great measure by his uncommon diffidence, and also, if I may so speak, by his moral excellences — just as the warmth of the sun causes mankind to forget for a time the majesty of his beams. His imagination was lively, and in early life had been cultivated. His memory was remarkably quick and retentive. His judgment was eminently sound. His opinions, on subjects not connected with his profession , were seldom incorrect, and were eagerly sought by his friends. He had a complete command of his intellectual resources, and could use them with equal advantage in public and in his study. His mind had an energy which was not to be controlled by the fatigue of the body. In the services of the sanctuary, long protracted, when his body was ready to sink, his mind was still in full exercise, and after a tedious journey, he could apply himself, during the greater part of the night, to the preparation of a sermon, or to a conversation maintained with his usual ability. His attainments in knowledge were extraor- 432 EPISCOPALIAN. diimry, considering that from tvenly-one years of age he had been occupied with the active duties of a large congregation, and he was continually adding to his stock of improvement. His studies, being interrupted during the day, were often continued through the greater part of the night ; and it appears, in some instances . to the dawn of morning. " I will now briefly state what I conceive to be prominent excellences in the character of Bishop Dehon. In the first place, inflexibility. He was careful to ascertain the right course of conduct. He never acted precipitately. He reflec- ted long, and consulted books and wise men. But when his opinion was once settled,— to adopt the remark made of him, on a particular occasion, by the ven- erable Bishop White, — ' nothing could move him.' This rendered his conduct remarkably uniform and steady; for on all questions of importance, his opinion had been settled. He was precisely the person described by the ancient moral- ist: — " Fixed and steady to his trust, "Inflexible to tratli, and obstinately jnst." But no one was ever more accommodating to the inclinations of others on occa- sions that did not involve moral principle. He united, in an eminent degree, steadfastness of pui'pose with gentleness of manner, the ' suaviter in modo' and the 'fortiter in re.' His character had the ornament of meekness. The cares of life, and the vexations inseparable from an intercourse with mankind, were not permitted to rufile his temper. In circumstances similar to those in which Moses had been placed, he was acknowledged by all to be like him indeed, very meek.* " Another excellence in his character was discretion. He knew when it was proper to act or not to act, to speak or to be silent. This quality made him sometimes appear unsocial, but it rendered him most valuable in his public employments. The members of his congregation could consult him on the most delicate questions, with a certainty that his prudence would let nothing escape him. His sense of gratitude ought to be mentioned, for it was peculiarly lively. He was grateful for the smallest favours. He seemed never to have forgotten the little attentions of hospitality which he received on his first visit to Carolina, and took every opportunity to return the kindness to the persons themselves and their connections. For the lesser comforts of life which are often unnoticed by the pious, he was in the habit of expressing his gratitude to the Almighty Giver. The healthy air, the pleasant walk, the sublime scene of Sullivan's Island, would spontaneously turn his affections to Heaven, and excite the praises of his lips in that devout hymn of thanksgiving, the Te J)eum,. His character was strictly formed on Christian principles. He referred every thing to the Scriptures. He was accustomed to ask himself, — ' How would my Saviour have acted under such circumstances?' — and in this way, resolved several cases of the most intri- cate nature. In the various situations in which he was placed through life, he could always find some precept to guide, and some promise to comfort, his heart. It was this complete knowledge of the Scriptures, and skill in applying them, which rendered him so valuable a counsellor in the time of temptation and trou- ble, lie could not be satisfied with a cold performance of duty, but wished, in the .service of God and his fellow-creatures, to do all he could, and to become every day more and more capable of usefulness. He placed before himself the standard of Scriptural perfection, and, in dependance on the assistance of the • " In illustration of his self-command, the following circumstance is related. Many years ago, it became necessary to extract from his neck a wen of considerable size, and the surgeon wished to employ two persons to hold him. But ho refused, and during a painful operation, in which the slightest motion would, it is said, have cost him his life, exhibited a composure which Dr. Varren declared had never been surpassed. It ought to be added that he was perfectly aware of the hazard of the operation. THEODORE DEHON. 433 Spirit of God, pursued it with ardour and perseyerance, even unto death. To be holy was his ruling desire, and was the last wish which he expressed. It was the consciousness of his distance from this standard, which rendered him so humble and condescending." I am, my dear Sir, Your obedient servant, JOSEPH JOHNSON. DANIEL NASH. 1797—1836. FROM THE RET. JOHN N. NORTON, RECTOR OP THE CHURCH OP THE ASCENSION, FRANKFORT, KT. Frankfort, December 10, 1857. My dear Sir : There are probably few Episcopalians, who have lived within the limits of the State of New York, at any period during the last sixty years, who are not familiar with the name of " Father Nash." I have myself had, from early life, a deep interest in his history and char- acter. Well do I remember, while in my boyhood, having heard my father (the Key. George H. Norton) speak of his journey on horseback to Otsego County, N. Y., in 1819, to receive Priest's Orders at the hands of Bishop Hobart ; of his getting lost in the woods ; of his stopping towards mid- night at the house of General Morris, to inquire the way ; and of Father Nash's being present to take part in the solemn service. I find by refer- ring to the Bishop's Address to the Convention, that the ordination took, place in Zion Church, Butternuts, (which had been consecrated two days; before,) on Sunday, November 22, 1819. I have referred to this fact merely to show how early in life my interest in the venerable man concern.- ing whom you inquire, began. Daniel Nash was born at Great Barrington, (then called Housatonic,)' Mass., on the 28th of May, 1763. He was the youngest child of Jonathan Nash, and Anna Maria Spoor, formerly of Taghconic, N. Y. His grand- father, after whom he was named, was a younger son of Lieutenant Timo- thy Nash, born in 1676, who married Experience, daughter of John and. Mary Clark, of Northampton, Mass. Jonathan Nash is represented as a worthy and respectable man, who held various offices in the town in which he lived, and was a magistrate for many years. Having nine children to support, he could do little more than train them up in honest and indus- trious habits, and teach them to love and serve God. The subject of this sketch graduated at Yale College in 1785, and was for some time a member of the Congregational Church. Indeed, it is stated, on what I consider pretty good authority, that he was once a licensed preacher of that denomination, and studied under the celebrated Dr. Hopkins. For nine years he was the Principal of an Academy, first at Pittsgrove,, and afterwards at Swedesborough, in New Jersey. Vol. v. 55 434 EPISCOPALIAIf. I have not been able to ascertain the precise time when he changed his ecclesiastical relations, but it was probably during the earlier part of his residence in New Jersey, where he had access to various works on Church government and polity. In after years, he was accustomed to say, when speaking of the difficulty of overcoming the effects of education and long habit in the case of those who had been born and bred Presbyterians, that " you may bray a Presbyterian, as with a pestle in a mortar, and you can- not get all his Presbyterianism out of him." When met with the reply that he thus judged himself, he would answer, with great good-humour, — "I was caught young." After becoming a communicant of the Episcopal Church, Mr. Nash found his thoughts turned once more towards the ministry, and in due time he was admitted as a candidate for Holy Orders, and pursued his studies under the direction of the Kev. John Croes, who, in 1815, was consecra- ted the first Bishop of New Jersey. He remained in Swedesborough until the spring of 1794, and then went back to the region of his birth, to take charge of an Academy at New Lebanon Springs, where a small congrega- tion of Episcopalians had been gathered by the Kev. Daniel Burhans. Mr. Nash continued here three years, teaching during the week, and officiating as a lay reader on Sundays. Meanwhile he formed the acquain- tance of Miss Olive Lusk, a lady of benignant mind and placid manners, who became his wife in January, 1796. The way for their union seemed to have been prepared by the fact that their fathers had been intimate friends, while fellow members of the Legislature of Massachusetts, at an early day. The marriage proved to be a most happy one, and a long series of years were passed in quiet contentment and unruffled peace. Dr. Burhans (whose honoured name cannot be mentioned without 'at least a passing expression of respect) had, about this period, made several missionary journeys through Otsego and the adjoining counties, and find- ing a field ripening for the harvest, and no one to reap it, proposed to his friend, Mr. Nash, that he should take Orders, and enter upon this work. This advice was followed. The school at New Lebanon Springs was closed, and the candidate for the holy ministry, burning with Apostolic zeal, has- tened to New York, and, after sustaining most creditably the examination required, was ordained Deacon by Bishop Provoost, in St. George's Chapel, on the 8th of February, 1797. He then turned his steps towards Otsego County, accompanied by the faithful wife, who was so well qualified to aid in his difficulties, and to cheer him in seasons of despondency and gloom. " By his zeal and indefatigable labours," (remarks Dr. Burhans, in a let- ter giving a rapid glance at Mr. Nash's useful career,) "sanctioning every step by a sober, religious and godly life ; being instant in season and out of season ; going from house to house ; preaching the word ; baptizing households ; teaching them all things necessary for the life that now is and that which is to come ; catechising all, old and young, he did more in thirty-seven years in establishing and extending the Church, than any other clergyman ever did in the United States." But I must not anticipate the natural order of events. The most graphic and beautiful sketch ever drawn of Father Nash, is from the pen of Bishop Chase. In 1799, he was making his earliest mis- DANIEL NASH. 435 sionary journey through the Southern and Western regions of New York, when he fell in with the devoted missionary of Otsego. He writes thus concerning him : — " The writer does not pretend to more sensibility than falls to the lot of most men ; but there was something in the meeting between Mr. Nash and himself of a peculiar character, and calculated to call forth whatever of moral sensibility he possessed. It was a meeting of two persons deeply convinced of the primitive and Apostolic foundation of the Church, to which, on account of its purity of doctrine and the Divine right of its ministry, they had fled from a chaos of confusion of other sects. They were both missionaries ; though the name was not yet understood or appreciated. The one had given up all his hopes of more comfortable living in a well-stored country at the East, and had come to Otsego County to preach the Gospel, and build up the Church on Apostolic ground, with no assurance of a salary but such as he , could glean from the cold soil of unrenewed nature, or pluck from the clusters of the few scions which he might engraft into the vine, Christ Jesus. He lived not in a tent, as the patriarchs did, surrounded with servants to tend his flocks, and to milk his kine, and 'bring him butter in a lordly dish ; ' but in a cabin built of unhewn logs, with scarcely a pane of glass to let in light sufficient to read his Bible : and even this cabin was not his own, nor was he permitted to live in one for a long time together. All this was witnessed by the other who came to see him, and helped him to carry his little articles of crockery, holding one handle of the basket, and Mr. Nash the other, and, as they walked the road, ' talked of the things pertaining to the Kingdom of G-od.' " The writer cannot refrain from tears in bringing to mind the circum- stances attending this interesting scene — that man who was afterwards most emphatically called ' Father Nash,' being the founder of the Church in Otsego County ; who baptized great numbers of both adults and child- ren, and thus was the spiritual father of so many of the family of Christ, and who spent all his life and strength in toiling for their spiritual benefit ; was at this period so little regarded by the Church at large, and even by his neighbours, that he had not the means to move his substance from one cabin to another, but with his own hands, assisted only by his wife and small children, and a passing missionary. Well does the writer remember how the little one-roomed cabin looked, as he entered it — its rude door, hung on wooden hinges, creaking as they turned ; how joyful that good man was that he had been mindful to fetch a few nails, which he had used in the other cabin, just left, for his comfort in this, now the receptacle of all his substance. These he drove into the logs with great judgment, choosing the place most appropriate for his hat, his coat, and other gar- ments of himself and family. All this while his patient wife, who, direct- ing his children to kindle the fire, prepared the food — for whom ? shall it be said, a stranger ? No ; but for one who "by sympathy felt himself more their brother than by the ties of nature, and who, by the example now set before him, learned a lesson of inexpressible use to him all the days of his subsequent life." Mr. Nash had thus far been doing the work of the ministry in its lowest ofjee — that of a Deacon ; and it was not until the autumn of 1801 that he 436 EPISCOPALIAN. was admitted to the higher rank of the Priesthood. The reason why he delayed thus long before applying for this " good degree," which he had so well " purchased " by his self-denying labours, was quite peculiar to himself. I have already mentioned his ordination, as Deacon, by Bishop Provoost, in 1797. The Bishop, who was in many respects an excellent man, dis- tinguished in character and deportment as a true and courteous gentleman, and who was no doubt desirous of doing his best for the Church, was nevertheless of a quiet, easy disposition, not at all capable of sympathiz- ing with so energetic and devoted a soldier as Mr. Nash. This missionary from the wilderness was welcomed most kindly by Bishop Provoost, and entertained at his house with generous hospitality ; but Mr. Nash, with all his efforts, was not able to work him up to what he considered a due degree ,of earnestness and zeal respecting the missionary claims of the wide- spread new country, which constituted so large a part of the Diocese of New York. The truth is, those were the days of sluggish indifference, when the Episcopal Church was dying of dignity ; when the Bishops did not venture forth with their spotless lawn amongst the briars and brambles of the rural districts ; and when deserving young men who had devoted years of toil to preparing for her ministry, must make a long pilgrimage on horseback to the city of New York to receive their credentials to preach the Gospel. Thank Grod, those sad times have passed away, — I trust never to return. Mr. Nash was so disconcerted by the reception which his enthusiastic expressions met with, that he secretly determined that he would not, if he could possibly help it, be ordained Priest by the same Bishop. He, accord- ingly, waited until Bishop Moore's Consecration, in September, 1801 ; and the very next month we find Father Nash in New York, receiving Priest's orders at his hands. Bishop Moore, in writing to General Morris of But- ternuts, the next day, says, — "Yesterday I ordained Mr. Nash a Priest; and it afforded me no little satisfaction to reflect that the first act of my Episcopal function has been employed in elevating to the Priesthood so worthy a man." A little circumstance occurred on his return to Otsego, from this jour- ney, which is too beautiful to be omitted. When he left home, prepara- tions were in progress for building a church ; and as he came back from the city, invested with the authority belonging to the second grade of the min- istry, he discovered unexpectedly that the frame of the humble temple had been raised during his absence. Filled with gratitude, he stopped his horse, dismounted, and kneeling on the ground, gave devout thanks to God. Every one who knows any thing of Mr. Nash, is acquainted with his faith- fulness in the discharge of that most important pastoral duty, — catechising the young. It is said of him that so great was his devotion to this mode of instruction, that when, on his missionary travels, he met children on the road, belonging to his extensive and scattered charge, he would stop and examine them on the spot. On a certain occasion, when a number of clergymen were assembled for some purpose, and conversAtion began to flag, one of them who was almost DANIEL NASH. 431^ too diligent a farmer for the good of the Church, entertained the company with an account of his agricultural operations, and among other things of his successful management of sheep. Father Nash, whose heart was entirely devoted to his Master's work, felt very little interest in all this ; and when the enthusiastic farmer parson turned to him and asked — " What do you feed your lambs with, Mr. Nash?"— the worthy missionary could not resist the temptation of administering a mild rebuke, and answered — "With Catechism-." It will perhaps interest your readers to know that iVtr. Nash is the origi- ginal "Parson Grant," in Cooper's famous romance. The Pioneers. This celebrated novelist thus speaks of his first service in Cooperstown, in his "Chronicles" of that place :—" On the 10th day of September, 1800, Miss Cooper, the eldest daughter of Judge Cooper," (and sister of the author,) "a young lady in her twenty-third year, was killed by a fall from a horse. Her Funeral Sermon was preached by the Kev. Daniel Nash, of the Protestant Episcopal Church, and she was interred according to the rites of that Church, which were now performed, for the first time, in this village. Mr. Nash, — since so well known in his own Church for his Apos- tolic simplicity, under the name of Father Nash, was then a missionary in the county. From this time he began to extend his services to Cooper«- town ; and on the first day of January, 1811, a church was legally organ- ized, under the title of Christ Church, Cooperstown. On the same day the Rev. Daniel Nash was chosen Rector, which ofiice, through the delicacy of the clergyman who succeeded him in its duties, he informally held, down to the day of his death, in 1836." The venerable Bishop of New York, to whose kindness I am much indebted for materials for this communication, thus describes an interview which took place between Father Nash and Bishop Croes of New Jersey, when both had grown gray in the Lord's service : — " I was walking in the street of New York City with Bishop Croes. Suddenly Mr. Nash came in sight ; and I said to the Bishop, — ' Here comes one of the oldest and most faithful missionaries of this Diocese.' Just then Mr. Nash came up to us. I introduced them to each other, and was surprised to find them, each sud- denly stopping, bracing himself for a good view, and most keenly eyeing the other. While I was wondering within myself what all this could mean, the explanation came out. It seems that many years before, while Bishop Croes was Rector of Trinity Church, Swedesborough, N. J., Mr. Nash was a teacher there, — a promising young man in whom Mr. Croes was much interested. This was the first time they had met for long years — both now old men. The recognition of each other was warm and afi'ectionate. No wonder that the meeting made a deep impression on my mind." In a letter to a brother clergyman who had applied to Father Nash to prepare a History of the Churches he had been instrumental in establishing, he writes thus : — " This evening is the first time I have collected courage enough to give an answer to your kind letter — kind, although you urge me to perform a task which I had resolved never to perform. St. Paul looked upon it as a foolish thing for him to boast of his labours and sufferings, his toils and afflictions. He did it, however, for the sake of affording his friends an 438 EPISCOPALIAN. opportunity to vindicate his character. I have no such reason to influence me to write the History of the Church in this and the adjacent counties. To do it I must of course speak of myself ; for I was the principal and only minister for several years. Happy years indeed — I never felt dis- couraged, neither did I feel alone. My wife was then living, — a noble- spirited, sensible woman, who, in the room of feeling discouraged, was the first to cheer me on in my arduous labours. The country was then com- paratively a,, wilderness — often she gave me a child, and then got on the horse behind me witt another in her. arms, and thus we would go to our public worship for a, number of miles. She excelled in music, and I under- stood it wellr^we were never confounded in that part of the service ; and when the congregation did not well understand how to make the responses, she always did it in a solemn manner. Through all kinds of weather, whether the place was near or remote, I was uniformly at the place, a short time before the people began to assemble. This gave me an opportunity to speak kindly to them, and to enquire in respect to their families. They judged me to feel interested both for their temporal and spiritual welfare ; and they did not judge amiss. Whenever a door was opened to catechise, in public or private houses, I did it." . That this venerable minister was eminently useful was a fact of general notoriety. From 1804 to 1816, when, to use his own words, — " the country was a comparative wilderness," and Episcopalians few and widely dispersed, he reported to the Oonvention four hundred and ninety-six baptisms. In 1817, he was thrown from his carriage, and so severely injured as to pre- clude active duties for most of the year. In 1825-26, he was sick much of the time, and soon afterwards was called to mourn the loss of his excel- lent companion, the partner of his toils, who died while on a visit to her brother-in-law, William Crandal, Esq., of Exeter, Otsego County, N. Y. In his Keport to the Convention of 1819, Father Nash begins to com- plain somewhat of the infirmities of age, although he continues active and energetic. Besides his labour among the white population, he held service, occasionally, for the Oneida Indians. He thus refers to these interesting people in his Keport for 1823 :— ' " In the month of May, I visited the church at Oneida, and with plea- sure can testify to the excellent order observed among the Indians. In no congregation, although I have seen many solemn assemblies, have I beheld such deep attention, such humble devotion. By the blessing of Divine Providence on the labours of the young gentleman who has iDeen with them since the departure of Mr. Williams, they have been kept within the fold of the Church, although exertions have been made to lead them astray. Those exertions will, most probably, in a great measure, cease, as it has pleased God to awaken to a just sense of religion a number of the most respectable of the white inhabitants in the vicinity of the church. This pious congregation, though small, will have a tendency to secure the attach- ment of the Indians, were there any danger, which I think there is not, of having their affections alienated. " The infirmities of age have prevented me from equalling in my labours, the labours of former years. The knowledge of this leaves a solemn impression on my mind that I must soon cease from those labours. And DANIEL NASH. 439 oh, how little has been done in eomparison with what might have been done ! ' It is an arduous thing,' said a pious missionary, ' to root out every affection to earthly things, so as to live for another world.' I will add that it is an arduous thing to be entirely devoted to the service of God, our Saviour. That service is delightful, but seldom realized." In 1831, Mr. Nash had a severe illness at the house of his son-in-law, Mr. Munroe of Burlington, Otsego County, and for several months his recovery was despaired of. His vigorous constitution, however, rallied again, and by the following spring he was enabled, to some extent, to resume his ministerial duties. The year before his death, (1835,) we find the following brief Report from him in the Journal of the New York Convention : — "I have, by the good providence of God, been enabled to preach nine discourses the year past — one in West Springfield, three in the town of AVarren, Herkimer County, two in Eichfleld, one in New Lisbon, and one in Zion Church, Butternuts. I have, however, spent much time in visiting, in catechising children, in conversing and giving religious instruction in various families of our own people, and among those of other denomina- tions, and even among those of no denomination, who oppose the sacred doctrines of the Church. Yet I have been kindly received and treated affectionately by all. A Uniform request has been made that I would repeat my visits. I notice this, because that formerly it was very different. The Church, then, had to pass through evil report, and her ministers were esteemed as false teachers, which is now quite the reverse. For all his mercies may God's holy name be praised." In the spring of 1836, the faithful old missionary again called at his daughter's house at Burlington, complaining of indisposition, which soon developed itself in the form of severe illness. He continued to grow worse until the 4th of June, when he entered into his rest, in the seventy- third year of his age. His remains and those of his devoted wife are buried near the church in Cooperstown, beneath the shade of some venerable pines, — a spot which he had often expressed a wish might be his burial place. A beautiful monument now marks these honoured graves. The Bishop of New York, in his Address to the Convention of 1836, thus speaks of the death of good Father Nash : — " The venerable Daniel Nash, for nearly forty years a faithful missionary in the Counties of Otsego and Chenango, was, about four months since, taken to his rest. He received Deacon's Orders from the first Bishop of the Diocese, and went immediately to the extensive field of labour in which, with a perseverance and fidelity wherein he set to his younger brethren a most worthy example, he continued to the last. The face of the country, the state of society, the congregations which he served, all underwent great changes ; but still the good man was there, faithful to his post, true to his obligations, and eminently useful in his labours. The young loved him ; the mature confided in him ; the aged sought in his counsels and example right guidance in the short remainder of their pilgrimage. Parish after parish was built up on foundations laid by him. Younger brethren came in to relieve him of their more immediate charge, but still the good old man was there, labouring to the last among them ; and long after physical 44,0 EPISCOPALIAN. disability forbade any frequent public ministrations, he would go from house to house, gathering the inmates around the domestic altar, giving great heed to that important branch of pastoral duty which he always loved, and in which he was eminently successful, — catechising the children, and having some word of warning, encouragement, reproof, consolation, or correction for each, as each had need. It was so ordered, in the course of providence, that I was, soon after his decease, in the district of country which had so long been the scene of his pastoral labours ; and truly gratified was I to witness that best of testimonies to the virtues of the Man, the Christian, and the Pastor, which was found in the full hearts, and the tender and reverential expressions, of the multitude who, to use the affectionate epithet with which for years they had delighted to know him, had been bereft of good old Father Nash." It is scarcely necessary that I should add any thing in illustration of Mr. Nash's character, to the preceding statements. He was not gifted with a strong mind, but it was original and unique, and although he had many weaknesses, he left an extraordinary impression upon all who knew him, of his sincerity, goodness, and devotedness. " His character " (as one of his contemporaries remarks) " strikingly exhibited the idea of the poet, — ' Half dull, half duty.' There were one or two occasions on which he said things, which, since his death, have recurred to my memory with almost the force of inspiration." I am, dear Sir, Very respectfully and truly yours, JOHN N. NORTON. RT. REV. JOHN HENRY HOBART, D. D * 1798—1830. John Henrt Hobart was a descendant, in the fourth generation, of Edmund Hobart, who emigrated from Hingham, Norfolk, England, to this country in 1633, and was one of the founders of Hingham, Mass., which town he represented, for several years, in the Legislature of the Colony. The grandson of Edmund (John) went, in the spirit of adventure, to the Southern part of the Continent, previous to the settlement of Pennsylvania by William Penn, in 1681, and, on his return, married in a Swedish family, where Philadelphia was afterwards built ; and he settled on a spot now called Kensington, a Northern suburb of that city. To the national religious views of his wife may be attributed the fact that, though he had been educated a strict Congregationalist, he now became an Episcopa- lian. Capt. Enoch Hobart, the son of John, and the father of John Henry, was the commander of a merchant ship, and was distinguished for sterling integrity and successful enterprise. His wife, the mother of John • Memoir by Rev. J. F. Sohroeder.— Berrian's Hiet. Trin. Ch.— Evergreen, I.— MSS. from bis .son,— Rev. Dr. J. H. Hobart, and G. B. Rapelye, Esq. JOHN HENRY HOBART. 44^ Henry, was Hannah Pratt, a lady of a highly respectable family in Phila- delphia. The subject of this sketch was born in Philadelphia on the 14th of Sep- tember, 1775 ; and as his father died the next year, his early training devolved entirely upon his mother, whose fine talents and accomplishments, as well as earnest piety, eminently qualified her for the double parental duty to which she was thus called. Under her faithful instructions and counsels, the mind of this son early took a serious direction, as well as evinced, in its first developments, a more than ordinary degree of spright- liness and vigour. Until he reached his ninth year, he was a pupil in the grammar school of a Mr. Leslie, a teacher in high repute in Philadelphia ; but he expressed his regret in subsequent life that the school was so distant from his residence that he was obliged to hasten from his meals in order to be in season, as he attributed to this circumstance the beginning of an obstinate dyspepsia, from which he was ever afterwards a sufferer. At the age of nine, he was received into the Episcopal Academy at Philadelphia, where he commenced his classical studies, under the care of the Rev. Dr. Andrews, afterwards Provost of the University of Pennsylvania. Here he gained great reputation as a scholar, and also as a speaker ; and was often specially commended by both the Principal and the Trustees. He is said to have been, at this period, exceedingly active and industrious, but sometimes impetuous ; social and cheerful, ambitious of distinction, but remarkably free from envy and jealousy. He entered the College of Philadelphia in 1788, when he was in his thirteenth year, and continued his studies there with great alacrity and success between two and three years. When he was in his fifteenth year, he made a public profession of his faith in Christ, and received the rite of Confirmation from Bishop White, — the same venerable Prelate by whom he was destined subsequently to be ordained to the Ministry, and consecrated to the Episcopate. In the autumn of 1791, he transferred his college relations to Princeton, where he became a member of the Junior class, and sustained, through his whole course, a high reputation for talents, diligence, and moral worth. He took his degree of Bachelor of Arts in September, 1793, and divided with another the highest honour of the class. One of his most intimate college friends was Mr. (afterwards the Eev. Dr.) Henry Kollock, who was in college standing one year his junior. It was much to the credit of both that, though one was a zealous Episcopalian, and the other strongly opposed to Episcopacy, they maintained the most familiar and affectionate relations until they were separated by death. Soon after Mr. Hobart graduated, he was led, by a train of events, to enter the counting-house of his brother-in-law, Mr. Eobert Smith, who was engaged in an extensive mercantile business. He found the employment, however, repugnant to his tastes and habits, and he soon resolved to quit it and turn to something more congenial. His purpose was now distinctly formed to devote himself to the ministry, and to pursue his theological studies under Bishop White ; but as a Tutorship at Princeton was offered him about this time, he determined to accept it, and accordingly removed thither, and entered upon his new duties in January, 1796. In connection with his official duties in the College, he prosecuted his theological studies Vol V. 56 442 EPISCOPALIAN. under the direction of the venerable President, Dr. Samuel Stanhope Smith. Though he was a decided Episcopalian, and sometimes held vigor- ous discussions on points of difference between himself and his Presbyterian brethren, he did not hesitate to associate with them in their praycr-mectings, or to take his turn with them in praying extemporaneously. This, how- ever, it is well known, he came subsequently to consider an irregularity. Having continued in his Tutojfship for more than two years, discharging its duties with great ability and acceptance, he resigned the office in March, 1798. He now repaired to Philadelphia, where; until the time of his ordi- nation, he had constant personal intercourse with Bishop White, with whom indeed' he had been in frequent correspondence during his residence at Princeton. Under his special direction he completed his theological studies ; and on the 3d of June following, (1798,) he was admitted by him to the Order of Deacons. His mother, his only brother, and only sister, were present to witness the solemn ceremonial. The Bishop, from his strong attachment to Mr. Hobart, and the high estimate he had of his talents and character, was very desirous that he should be settled somewhere in the neighbourhood of Philadelphia, in the hope that he might, at no distant period, become connected with one of the churches of which he was himself Rector. With this view he inter- ested himself in procuring his settlement over the two Churches of Trinity, Oxford, and All Saints', Perkiomen, within from ten to thirteen miles of the city. Here he was greatly admired for his talents, and beloved for his generous disposition and fine social qualities, but his salary was small, and paid not without much difficulty. The congregation of St. Paul's Church, Philadelphia, were desirous that he should become Assistant Minister to their Rector, Dr. Magaw ; but he shrank from so public a station, and in 1799, accepted an invitation to Christ Church, New Bruns- wick, N. J., for one year. This he did the more readily, as he would thereby be brought into the neighbourhood of Princeton, and would be able to gratify his literary tastes, by having easy access to both its cultivated society, and its extensive library. After he had been at Brunswick about three months, labouring diligently, and yet living in a sort of scholastic retirement, he was invited to take charge of the church at Hempstead, on Long Island. He immediately addressed a letter to the church of which he was then in charge, stating the fact of his having received a call from Hempstead, and his conviction that it would be every way greatly to his advantage to accept it ; and moreover, that if he did not accept it without much delay, they would feel obliged to proceed to the election of another pastor ; and he respectfully inquired whether, in con- sideration of these circumstances, the Vestry would consent to release him from his engagement with them for the last six months. But the very next day, he addressed to them another communication, revoking the request which he had previously made, and assuring them that, upon reflection, he could not be satisfied to accept of a release from his engagement, even if their generosity should grant it, and that he should cheerfully remain with them till the end of the year. He, accordingly, did remain until the 4th of May, 1800, terminating his labours there on the very day which com- pleted a year from their commencement. JOHN HENRY HOBAET. 443 About this time he was married to Mary Goodwin, daughter of the Kev. Dr. Chandler, of Elizabethtown, who had long been one of the lights of the American Episcopal Church. She was an intelligent and excellent lady, thoroughly trained in the doctrines of her Church, and every way fitted for the arduous and elevated position to which her marriage intro- duced her. St. George's Church at Hempstead having elwsen rather to wait a few months for Mr. Hobart's services, than fail altogether of securing them, was kept open for him till the expiration of his year at New Brunswick, when he at once went to Hempstead, and commenced there his official labours. But by this time he had become so much a man of mark, that the attention of congregations still more important was drawn to him. Scarcely had he become settled before he had an offer of the Kectorship of St. Mark's Church, New York, which, however, he promptly declined. But in September following, he was invited to become an Assistant Minis- ter of Trinity Church, New York, — the Eev. John Bissett,* who had for several years held that place, having then recently resigned ; and as he regarded this as the most important field of labour to which he could be called, he did not feel at liberty to decline the occupancy of it. He, accordingly, removed to the city, and began his labours in his new field, and shortly after was ordained Priest by the Rt. Rev. Dr. Provoost, in Trinity Church. While yet in Deacon's Orders, Mr. Hobart was appointed Secretary to the House of Bishops, at their meeting in Philadelphia, June 3, 1799. When he had been in the ministry but three years, and in the Diocese of New York but a few months, he was chosen Secretary to the Convention of the Diocese, and elected one of the deputies to the General Convention, which met at Trenton, September, 1801. At the next General Conven- • John Bissett was born in Scotland about the year 1762. Having graduated at the Uni- versity of Aberdeen, he came to this country and was admitted to Holy Orders by Bishop Sea- bury, in 1786. As early as 1789, he was Eector of Shrewsbury Pariah, in Maryland, and tho same year was a deputy in the General Convention at Philadelphia, which revised the Book of Common Prayer. He was also a deputy in the same Body, and elected its Secretary, in New York, in 1792. During the session that year, he and the Rev. Joseph Pilmore, also a deputy, were made candidates for the Third Assistant Minister of Trinity Church; and the matter being submitted by the Vestry to the three congregations, Mr. Bissett was chosen by a large majority. He accepted the call, and entered immediately on his new field of labour. He was a member of the General Convention also in 1796. He was about five feet ten inches in height, well pro- portioned, and extremely neat in his personal appearance. The Hon. Wm. A. Duer, in his ^' Reminiscences of an Old Yorker," writes thus of him : — '* He was a more eloquent and pow- erful preacher, perhaps, if not a more popular one, than any preceding or succeeding him in office. He was a Scotchman by birth, and his tongue would literally have refused its office, had he attempted to deny his country. Besides being an excellent preacher, he was, — what indeed was requisite to make him such, — a sound divine, and a ripe and good scholar. For some years, during his connection with Trinity Church, he held the Professorship of Rhetoric and the Belles Lettres in Columbia College. He was, moreover, a bachelor, and his preaching was found to be most attractive to the young ladies. With one of his fair auditresses it was his misfortune, as it proved, to fall in love, and the ill success attending his suit drove him to seek consolation, not where it was most natural that a clergyman, before all others, should seek it, but from that last resource of the desperate sensualist, the bottle. This soon compelled his resignation. Ho returned, then, to his native country, and, not many years afterwards, I met and accosted him i n the streets of London. He recognised me at once, though, in the interval, I had passed from youth to manhood ; but he evinced no pleasure at the meeting. He was pale and emaciated, and his whole appearance was strikingly that of a broken dovm gentleman. He made some inquiries respecting his former acquaintances in New York, and informed me that he was employed as a corrector of the press. Judging from his looks and conversation that he had reformed, I gave him my address, and invited him to diire with me at a coffee-house in the neighbourhood, but he declined, and I saw him no more. I have since heard that he was dead." His death is believed to have taken pla«e not far from the year 1810. 4.44 EPISCOPALIAN. tion, in 1804, he was again a representative from New York in the House of Clerical and Lay Deputies, and was chosen Secretary to the House ; and the same distinction was again conferred upon him in 1808. His great intelligence, activity, and energy, always rendered him one of the most efficient members of the Convention, and secured to him a powerful influ- ence in all the general councils of the Church. The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred on him by Union Col- lege, in 1806. The Rt. Eev. Dr. Moore, Bishop of the Diocese of New York, having been disabled for public service, by a stroke of paralysis, in February, 1811, called a Special Convention, which met on the second Tuesday in May following, the object of which was the election of an Assistant Bishop. Dr. Hobart was not only the prominent but the only candidate ; and though he had some vigorous opponents, he was elected by a very large majority. His consecration took place in Trinity Church, in connection with that of the Rev. Alexander Viets G-riswold, on the 29th of the same month, — Bishop White acting as Consecrator, and Bishop Provoost and Bishop Jar- vis assisting. According to the usage of the Church of England, Bishop White first laid his hands on Hobart as a Doctor of Divinity, though Grris- wold was his senior both in age and ministerial standing. Dr. Hobart, though nominally only an Assistant Bishop, had really, on account of the infirmities of Bishop Moore, the whole charge of an immense Diocese devolving upon him. He became at once prominent in the House of Bishops, and was a regular attendant at every meeting except the one in 1823, when he was detained by sickness, until the close of his •life. On the death of Bishop Moore, in February, 1816, Dr. Hobart became Diocesan of New York. At the close of the year 1812, when the Rev. Dr. Beach, Assistant Rector of Trinity Church, resigned his office, the Assistant Bishop was immediately called to fill his place ; and he was inducted Rector only a few days after Bishop Moore's decease. Bishop Hobart's Diocese now extended more than three hundred miles from East to West, and required an amount of labour which few men would have been able to perform ; but his great energy and unyielding perseverance, in connection with his deep sense of the importance of the work in which he was engaged, enabled him to meet the almost innumerable claims that were made upon him with the utmost promptness and fidelity. But his labours were by no means confined within the limits of his own State. In the Diocese of New Jersey, until 1815, when its first Bishop, Dr. Croes. was consecrated, the Assistant Bishop of New York had per- formed many of the appropriate duties of the Episcopate. While the Diocese of Connecticut was, for several years, without a Bishop, after the death of Dr. Jarvis, in 1813, Bishop Hobart consented, in 1816, to extend his Episcopal jurisdiction to that See ; and he held this provisional charge until 1819, when he was relieved by the Consecration of Dr. Brownell. There was scarcely any subject in which Bishop Hobart felt a deeper interest than the proper education of the Clergy. For many years before the establishment of a General Theological Seminary was proposed, he had projected in his own mind such an enterprise ; and the incipient efforts which he put forth on the subject, at that early period, may be said to have JOHN HENRY HOBART. 445 formed, the germ of the noble institution which is now sending forth its well educated candidates for the ministry all over the land. This institu- tion was located at New York in 1819 ; was removed to New Haven in September, 1820 ; and was subsequently, as the result of the counsels of a Special General Convention of the Church, in 1821, removed back to New York, and incorporated with a local seminary which had previously been in operation in the city, under the eye and the auspices of the Dioce- san. At the new organization of the institution, Bishop Hobart was appointed to the chair of Pastoral Theology and Pulpit Eloquence ; and at its re-opening, in 1822, he delivered an Address presenting the objects, principles, results, and means of the institution, in a manner uncommonly animating and attractive. He discharged the duties of his Professor- ship so as effectually to secure the affection, gratitude, and admiration of his pupils. But Bishop Hobart's accumulated labours at length began to make a perceptible inroad upon the vigour of his constitution ; and in 1823, his health had become so much enfeebled that it was thought desirable that he should intermit his labours for a while, and try the effect of a voyage to Europe. Accordingly, the necessary preparation having been made, he embarked for Liverpool in the Packet Ship Meteor, on the 24th of Sep- tember, amidst the warmest demonstrations of affectionate regard from great numbers not only of clergymen but of laymen, who " accompanied him unto the ship." He reached Liverpool on the 1st of November, with his health decidedly improved. Bishop Hobart's foreign tour, including England, Scotland and Wales, France, Switzerland and Italy, occupied him about two years. He was received every where with marked attention, and in each of the countries he visited, found much to interest and gratify him. In Kome he preached three times in a chapel in which Protestant worship was then barely tole- rated, and on one of these occasions made an impressive and effective appeal in behalf of the persecuted Waldenses in the Valleys of Piedmont. In his journey through the Italian States the Kepublican Protestant Bishop was not a little annoyed by the scrutinizing officials he had to encounter : and when at Milan, he was unceremoniously summoned before the civil mag- istrates, to be examined as to the actual object of his tour. He accordingly appeared, at the appointed time, with his interpreter ; but as the process of speaking with borrowed lips proved too slow for his ardent and impa- tient spirit, he discarded it after a little, and broke out in his own vernac- ular English ; and though the magistrates did not understand a word that he said, the freedom and frankness of his manner left them in no doubt of his honesty, and they accordingly dismissed him without subjecting him to further annoyance. Notwithstanding the marked deference with which Bishop Hobart was received by the most distinguished people abroad, he was grieved to find, on his first arrival in England, that the great body of the Bishops and Clergy of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States were charged, in various publications, with not faithfully inculcating the peculiar doctrines of the Gospel ; and especially that he had himself been represented as neglecting the essentials of religion, and insisting chiefly on mere externals. ' 446 EPISCOPALIAN. With a view to disprove this charge, so far at least as he himself was con- cerned, he published, in London, in March, 1824, two volumes of the Dis- courses, which'" in the course of his duty as a parochial minister," he had preached to his congregations in America. These Discourses seem to have had the desired effect ; for they were received with great favour in Eng- land, and drew forth warm expressions of approbation in various periodi- cals, among which was the Christian Observer. They were republished in New York, by T. & J. Swords, within a few months after they appeared in England. After an absence of two years, Bishop Hobart, having obtained the main object of his tour in greatly improved health, was prepared to return to his own country. Accordingly, on the 1st of September, 1825, he embarked at Liverpool, on board the packet ship Canada, and reached New York, to the great joy of his family and friends, his parishioners and fellow- citizens, on the 12th of October following. The first time that he appeared in the pulpit after his return, he gave vent to his feelings in a glowing patriotic discourse designed to show the marked superiority of his own country to any of the countries in which he had been sojourning — it was preached first in Trinity Church, and after- wards in St. Paul's and St. John's Chapels, to crowded and admiring assemblies. It was printed shortly after, and is certainly an able and elo- quent production ; but some of his friends in this country thought that its tone was perhaps a little too free, and some of the English periodicals noticed it in no measured terms of reprobation. It showed this at least, — that the author's absence from his country had only made him love it the more. On the 18th of October, only six days after his arrival, the annual meet- ing of the Diocesan Convention took place, and was rendered uncommonly interesting, not only by a very large attendance of both Clergy and Laity, but by the presence of Bishop Croes of New Jersey, and Bishop Brownell of Connecticut, and above all, of their own honoured Bishop, whose full heart vented itself through his eloquent lips in the most impressive and affectionate manner. Said he, — " I again press to the bosom — I have felt it — of mutual affection ; again take with the hand of warm congratulation the Clekgt whom I had left, whom I had often seen in this sacred place. I knew not their full hold on my heart until I was separa- ted from them, and again united to them. I also see the revered and honoured Lay- men, whom I have been and am proud to call my friends, to denominate thBm with an appellation that still more endears thera to me, — the friends of the Church, — ^the Zion whom they an'd I ought, and I trust do, supremely love ; not as the mer« religious party with which we are fortuitously cast, but as the depository and dispenser of the truths of salvation. But I can say," added he, '' and I must- say, that I honour, that I esteem, that I love you. And do, I besee.ch you, carry with you to your congrega- tions and your fellow churchmen the expressions of my gratitude for all the interest which, in various ways, they have so strongly manifested for their absent Bishop. Tell them that he comes, grateful indeed for hospitalities and attentions abroad, and admir- ing much that he has seen, especially in the land of his fathers; but prizing all that he left behind more, he would almost say infinitely more, than when he went away; loving hia Church as the purest and the best, however as yet humble among the Churches of Christendom; and wh^ should he not, for once in his life, mingle with his public acts as a Christian Bishop, his sentiments as a citizen, loving his country as the best and the happiest, because the freest, upon earth: tell them that he comes with renovated desires to serve them, — to do his duty to the beloved Diocese of which he has the charge." JOHS HENRY HOBAKT. 447 And he faithfully redeemed this pledge. He addressed himself to his various official duties with renewed zeal and energy, cordially recommend- ing and seconding every instrumentality that seemed to him adapted to promote the interests of Christ's Kingdom ; though he was conscientiously and strongly opposed to co-operating with Christians beyond the limits of his own communion. The cause of Theological Education, of Sunday Schools, of Domestic and Foreign Missions, together with the Circulation of the Bible and Prayer Book, and of Keligious Tracts, engaged in turn his attention and efforts. He was especially interested in the Oneida tribe of Indians, and at the earnest request of their Chiefs, he licensed Eleazar Williams (the person who has since been supposed by many to be the right- ful heir to the throne of France) as a lay reader to ofiSciate among them. He visited the tribe in 1818, and again in 1826 ; and in this latter year confirmed twenty-five of their number, and admitted their first lay reader, Mr. Williams, to Deacon's Orders. In 1829, the tribe migrated to Green Bay with Mr. Williams; and the same year the Bishop visited them again, and the occasion was one of most intense interest. He returned from this visit with a deeper impression than ever that the mission was one that well deserved to be sustained and cherished by the Episcopal Church. Bishop Hobart, though he had much natural vigour of constitution, was not without occasional admonitions that his life might come to a sudden termination. During his annual tour of Visitation in the year 1826, he had stopped at Auburn, and while alone at evening in his chamber, was heard suddenly to fall ; and when his room was entered, he was found lying on his face, faint and convulsed. In 1830, he was again engaged in tra- velling on his annual tour, and had reached Auburn, and was stopping at the house of his friend, the Rev. Dr. Rudd — at the very same house, and in the very same chamber, where he had experienced the alarming attack four years before. He had administered the rite of Confirmation at Auburn on the 2d of September, and a few hours after began to feel an oppression at his stomach, which proved the beginning of his last illness. He lingered ten days, during which his Christian exercises were marked by the utmost simplicity and naturalness, constituting a sublime testimony to the all-sustaining power of the Gospel, and showing that faith was stronger than death. He died on the 10th of September, 1830, and his remains were immediately taken to New York for burial. His funeral was an occasion of deep and all pervading interest, and the whole city seemed dis- posed to bear a grateful testimony to his moral elevation and purity, not less than to his official fidelity and distinction. His death called forth a large number of commemorative discourses from clergymen in various parts of the country, many of which were published in pamphlet form, and no less than thirteen are included in the volume that contains his Memoir. Bishop Hobart left a widow and several children. One of his sons became a lawyer, and one, bearing his own name, a clergyman, who is now (1858) Assistant Minister of Trinity Church, New York. The following is a list of works of which Bishop Hobart was the authory compiler, or editor: — The Companion for the Altar, 12mo., 1804. The Companion for the Festivals and Fasts, 12mo., 1805. The Companion to the Book of Common Prayer, 12mo., 1805. The Clergyman's Companion, 448 EPISCOPALIAN. 1806. A Collection of Essays on the subject of Episcopacy, 8vo., 1806, Apology for Apostolic Order and its Advocates, in a series of Letters to / the Rev. John M. Mason, D. D., 8vo., 1807. The Excellence of the Church : A Sermon preached at the Consecration of Trinity Church, New- ark, New Jersey, 1810. A Statement addressed to the Episcopalians in the State of New York, relative to some recent events in the Protestant Episcopal Church in the said State, 1812. The Origin, the G-eneral Char- acter, and the Present Situation of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America : A Sermon preached in St. James' Church, in the city of Philadelphia, on occasion of the Opening of the General Con- vention of the said Church, and of the Consecration of the Rt. Rev. Bishop Moore, of Virginia, 1814. The Christian's Manual of Faith and Devotion, 1814. The Security of a Nation : A Sermon preached in Trinity Church, New York, on the day appointed by the President of the United States, and the Governor of the State of New York, as a day of Thanksgiving to Almighty God for the various Public Mercies of his Providence, and espe- cially for the Restoration of the Blessings of Peace, 1815. A Pastoral Letter to the Laity of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the State of New York, on the subject of the Bible and Common Prayer Book Society, 1815. A Reply* to an Answer to Bishop Hobart's Pastoral Letter on the subject of Bible and Common Prayer Book Societies, in a Letter addressed to the Author of the Answer, 1815. A Charge to the Clergy of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the State of New York delivered at the Convention of the Churches in said State in Trinity Church in the city of New York, 1815. Observations on a late pamphlet containing Stric- tures of Bishop Hobart's Pastoral Letter on the subject of the Bible and Common Prayer Book Societies, 1815. The Moral Efficacy and the Posi- tive Benefits of the Ordinances of the Gospel : A Sermon preached at the Consecration of Trinity Church in the city of New Haven, 1816. An Address delivered before the Auxiliary New York Bible Society and Com- mon Prayer Book Society, in Trinity Church, New York, 1816. The Candidate for Confirmation instructed, 1816. A Funeral Address deli- vered at the Interment of the Rt. Rev. Benjamin Moore, D. D., in Trinity Church. To which is added an Appendix on the Place of Departed Spirits, and the Descent of Christ into Hell, 1816. An Address to Episcopalians on the subject of the American Bible Society, 1816. An Address deli- vered before the New York Protestant Episcopal Missionary Society of Young Men and others, in .Trinity Church, New York, 1817. The Bene- ficial Effects of Sunday Schools considered in an Address delivered at the Anniversary meeting of the Sunday Schools in union with the New York Protestant Episcopal Sunday School Society, 1817. The Corruptions of the Church of Rome contrasted with certain Protestant errors, in a Charge delivered to the Clergy of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the State of New York, at the Opening of the Convention of said Church in Trinity Church, New York, 1817, and subsequently to the Clergy of said Churcli in the State of Connecticut, at Bridgeport, 1818. The Churchman : The Principles of the Churchman stated and explained, in distinction from the • This and the other anonymons pnblioations in this list are credited to Bishop Hobart, on the authority of his particular friendj the llev. Dr. John Brown of Newburgh. JOHN HENRY HOBART. 449 Corruptions of the Church of Rome, and from the Errors of certain Pro- testant Sects ; in a Third Charge, delivered first to the Clergy of the Pro- testant Episcopal Church in the State of Connecticut, at the Opening of the Convention of said Church in New Haven, in June, 1818 ; and subse- quently to the Clergy of the same Church in the State of New York, in Albany, 1819. A Pastoral Letter relative to Measures for the Theologi- cal Education of Candidates for Orders, addressed to the Clergy and Laity of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the State of New York, 1820. An Address delivered to the Annual Convention of the Protestant Episco- pal Church in the State of New York, held in Trinity Church, New York, 1821. An Address delivered to the Annual Convention of the Pro- testant Episcopal Church in the State of New York, held in St. Paul's Church in the City of Troy, 1822. An Introductory Address, on occasion 6f the Opening of the General Theological Seminary of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America, 1822. Mant and D'Olyly's Bible, with notes, 1823. An Address to the Convention of the Diocese of New York, 1823. A Note from Corrector to William Jay, 1823. A Keply to a Letter addressed to the Et. Rev. Bishop Hobart by "William Jay : In a Letter to that gentleman, By Corrector, 1828. A Eeply to a Letter to the Rt. Rev. Bishop Hobart, occasioned by the Stric- tures on Bible Societies, contained in his late Address to the Convention of New York, by a Churchman of the Diocese of New York : In a Letter to that gentleman, by Corrector, 1823. Sermons on the Principal Events and Truths of Redemption. Two vols. 8vo., 1824. Christian Sympa- thy: A Sermon preached to the Congregation of English Protestants, in the city of Rome, Italy, on Easter Sunday, on occasion of a Col- lection for the benefit of the Vaudois or Waldenses in Piedmont, 1825. The United States of America compared with some European countries^, particularly England : in a Discourse delivered in Trinity Church, and iai St. Paul's and St. John's Chapels, in the city of New York, 1825. The High Churchman vindicated : A Fourth Charge to the Clergy of the Pro- testant Episcopal Church in the State of New-York, 1826. An Address^ delivered before the Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the- State of New York, in Trinity Church, New York, 1827. The Christian. Bishop approving himself unto Grod in reference to the present state of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America : A Sermon, preached in Christ Church, Philadelphia, at the Consecration of the Rt.. Rev. H. U. Onderdonk, as Assistant Bishop in the Protestant Episcopal' Church in the State of Pennsylvania, 1827. The Man of God : A Sermon preached in St. Thomas' Church, New York, at the Institution of the Rev. George Upfold, M. D., into the Rectorship of the said Church, 1828. An Address to the Students of the General Theological Seminary of the Pro- testant Episcopal Church, delivered in the Chapel of the Seminary, 1828., A Vindication of the Pastoral Letter of the Rt. Rev. Bishop Hobart from the Animadversions contained in the Prefatory Remarks annexed to the Con- stitution of the Protestant Episcopal Clerical Association of the City of New York, 1829. A Pastoral Letter addressed to the Clergy and Laity of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the State of New York on the sub- ject of an Association styled The Protestant Episcopal Crerieal Associa-^ Vol.. V. 57 450 EPISCOPALIAN. tion in the City of New York, 1829. The Duty of the Clergy with respect to inculcating the Doctrine of the Trinity, set forth in a Fifth Charge at the Opening of the Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the State of New York, Delivered in Trinity Church, New York, 1829. The Keciprooal Duties of Ministers and People : A Sermon preached in St. Luke's Church, Rochester, at the Institution of the Rev. H. J. Whitehouse into the Rectorship of said Church, 1830. FROM THE REV. JAMES M. MATHEWS, D. D. CHANCELLOR OP THE UNIVERSITY OP NEW YORK. New York, October 4, 1852. My dear Sir: Notwithstanding Bishop Hobart and myself were of different religious denominations, and there was considerable inequality in our ages, we were always on friendly, and during a large part of the time, on intimate, terms, from the time that T was a student in Dr. Mason's Seminary till the Bishop's death. On my first acquaintance with him he was an Assistant Minister of Trinity Church. I always found him a true-hearted and generous friend; and it gives me pleasure, even at this late day, to pay a tribute of affectionate respect to his character. Bishop Hobart had one characteristic that may be said to have pervaded the whole man — physical, intellectual and moral — I mean great quickness and energy; and it was this, more than any thing else, that made him what he was. lie was of not quite the ordinary height, with rather a broad face, a clear, piercing eye, and a highly intellectual expression. Though there was nothing in his countenance that betokened an unamiable spirit, I never thought that his fece indicated any thing like the amount of benevolence which he possessed. His eye, his countenance, his whole frame seemed never at rest. His manners were digni- fied and courtly, though without any great artificial polish. He walked with so much rapidity that you might have supposed he was walking for a wager. And the movements of his mind and his tongue were as rapid as those of his limbs. He talked on every subject with great earnestness, and sometimes made mistakes in his statements; but it never seemed to cost him the least effort to correct them when they were made known to him. Though he talked a great deal in every company into which he was thrown, yet I believe nobodv ever felt that he was assuming, or manifested any disposition to monopolize the conver- sation. He had great general intelligence, and was instructive as well as agree- able in his social intercourse. Bishop Hobart, as you would infer from what I have said of his great natural quickness, would sometimes say and do things, under sudden impulses, that he would have occasion to regret; but his large heart always came up at once to the reparation of any injury, however small, which he thought he had inflicted. He was full of warm and kindly sympathy, and would fly to the relief of a human being in distress as soon as any other man. As a preacher, he was rapid, business-like, earnest in his manner, rather than elegant or graceful. His voice, though not very strong, was clear, and his tones natural and varied. He made you feel that he heartily believed all that he said, and meant that you should believe it. too. His sermons were generally clear, and methodical, and full of well digested, well matured thought. He had a great admiration for the works of Baxter; and my impression is that his theo- logical views did not differ materially from his. He read the Church Service with too much rapidity, and the Burial Service particularly I have heard him repeat in a way that considerably diminished its solemnity and impressiveness. JOHN HENRY HOBAET. 452 As a man of business, his rapid tendencies sometimes betrayed him into errors, and I have seen him once or twice, in such circumstances, somewhat confused; but he was always prompt, energetic and efficient. He was well acquainted with the forms of business, and his l<;nowledge was always ready for practical appli- cation. His attachment to his own Church was very strong, and led him to the most vigorous efforts for the promotion of its interests. But while his principles would not allow him to recognise other denominations, strictly speaking, as part of the visible Church, his nobility of soul, his quick and generous sympathies, would not allow him to restrict his social and kindly intercourse within any denomina- tional limits. I was myself a witness to this for many years, and am not slow to bear testimony to it now. Yours truly and affectionately, J. M. MATHEWS. FROM THE HON. JOHN A. KING, GOVERNOR OF THE STATE OF NEW YORK. Albany, December 15, 1857. My dear Sir : I will not decline your request for my recollections of Bishop Hobart, though it is more grateful than easy to me to comply with it; for while I loved and honoured him much, and still cherish his memory with the pro- foundest veneration, I greatly doubt my ability to transfer to paper the strong and indelible impressions which he made upon me. And yet the difficulty lies not in any obscurity or complexity that pertained to his character, — for he was, as I shall have occasion to show you, one of the most transparent of men; but it consists rather in the intensity that belonged to all his mental and moral char- acteristics—in a sort of elevated impetuosity, that ran like a chain of fire through mind, heart, and life, and which, though it could not fail to engrave itself upon the memory of every one who witnessed it, actually required to be seen in order to be fully realized. However differently his character might be regarded by different persons, or as viewed from different stand-points, there could hardly be two opinions as to its original elements, its most distinctive features, among those who had the opportunity of making even the most limited observation upon it. I had never much knowledge of Dr. Hobart until about the time that he was elected to the Episcopate; but from that period till the close of his life, though he was considerably my senior, my relations with him were more than friendly — they were intimate; and I had the opportunity of seeing him under circumstances that were fitted to display his varied and striking characteristics. My own inti- macy with him was chiefly through the intimacy that existed between himself and my father, who was at once one of his warmestfriends and greatest admirers. My father was early one of the Wardens of Trinity Church, of which he was Rector, and he retained the place for some time after his removal to Jamaica. Pie was associated with him also in the Board of Trustees of Columbia College; often sat with him in Convention; and, if I mistake not, was a member of the Convention by which he was chosen Bishop. In all matters ecclesiastical, he had an almost implicit reliance on his judgment; and I do not remember that he ever differed with him in any thing of importance. Under these circumstances, you will readily understand that the Bishop was on terms of the most unrestrained intercourse with our family, so that I could not possibly have enjoyed a better opportunity than I did for forming a correct idea of his character. One of the first things that would strike you in respect to Bishop Hobart was his perfect naturalness — he spoke and acted out of the abundance of his heart — though he said and did things with wonderful effect, yet he never said or did 452 EPISCOPALIAN. any thing for effect, in the common acceptation of that phrase. The moment you began to converse with him, you felt that whatever else you might have to encounter, it would not be an artful or studied reserve, or any thing that was inconsistent with the most perfect simplicity. You could not feel that you were in contact with one who was lying in wait to entrap you, or watching for some- thing that he might turn to your disadvantage. The very manner of the man, — his countenance, his intonations, forbade the least suspicion of his integrity. Possibly he might say things to which you could not give your assent; but he would convince you that he believed them with all his heart. Possibly he might speak with more confidence and boldness than you would like; but you could not fail to like the perfect sincerity and thoroughness of conviction which led to it. Possibly you might regret some of his scathing animadversions upon men or things, that happened to be offensive to him; but there would be that even in his severity that would make you feel that it was the severity of a noble and generous mind. I have not known a man who seemed to me to have a stronger sense of right, combined with greater firmness of purpose, than Bishop Hobart. He came rapidly to his conclusions, and then acted upon them with a determination and energy that often seemed heroic. But if he had acted wrong, his mind was open as day to conviction, and it cost him not the least effort to retrace his steps, or, if need be, to repair the unintentional injury. I recollect an instance where an individual to whom he had been most strongly attached, and whom he had every personal motive to endeavour to sustain, had been guilty of a grossly dishonour- able and even immoral act; and in his usual decisive manner, he wrote to my father, — " We must not attempt to apologize for him — he mast be given up." Then I have known other instances in which he has become convinced that he had, perhaps through misapprehension, or inadvertence, or undue excitement, unnecessarily wounded the feelings of an individual, when his great and generous heart has eagerly embraced the very first opportunity to make the most ample explanation, or if need be, concession, that could possibly be asked of him. I think I may say With great confidence that Bishop Hobart's whole character bore the stamp of greatness. His mind was at once quick in its movements, and powerful in its grasp. He took an intense view of every subject to which his thoughts were directed, and he had the power of presenting it with equal inten- sity toother minds. His faculties were highly cultivated, and his large stores of knowledge were fully at his command. You could not place him in any cir- cumstances, but that he would display a master mind. What he was as the Rector of a Church, or the Bishop of a Diocese, or I had almost said, in a casual meeting that you might have with him in the street, would satisfy you that if Providence had placed him at the head of an army, or even the head of a nation, he had qualities which would not have dishonoured the position. I well remem- ber to have heard my father speak of him as possessing powers of debate which were almost unrivalled. In the discharge of his official duties, he was just what you would expect from the qualities which I have attributed to him. He was one of the High Churchmen of his day, and admitted no compromise in regard to the opinions he held as an Episcopalian; but he was still in the most agreeable relations with many clergymen of other communions. As a preacher, he was natural, earnest, bold, effective, and you seemed not only to feel the glow, but see the flash, of the inward fire. His appearance in the pulpit was dignified and commanding. His sermons were written with conciseness and point, as well as great vigour, and were designed to find their way to the life rather through the understanding than the passions. As the Head of the Diocese, you could hardly fix a limit to his influence — there were those indeed who dissented from his views and policy on some points, but it was not at the option of any body whether or not to respect him; «ind with the great mass of the Clergy it is not too much to JOHN HENRY HOBART. 453 say that his will was law. He thought, felt, spoke, acted, in this as in every other relation, as one having authority. One of my last interviews with this venerable man was in the year 1825, when he came to see my father in London, where also I was myself living as Secretary of Legation. He was then on his way home, after a brief tour on the Continent. I remember he seemed not a little annoyed by the canonical obstacle^ which then existed to his being invited to preach in Great Britain. " Isn't it extraordinary, Mr. King," said he to my father, " that I can preach in the city of Rome, and yet not be allowed to preach in London .'" The obstacle, however, was subsequently removed by an Act of Parliament, and my impression is that the Bishop so far took advantage of its removal as to preach afterwards in Can- ada. Such a prohibition was the very thing to come in conflict with his high and honourable notions, and especially with his patriotic regard to the land of his nativity. It is not much more than an outline of Bishop Hobart that I have given you, but I think I have said enough to show you that I have been writing about an extraordinary man. With sincere regard. Your obedient servant, JOHN A. KING. RT. REV. PHILANDER CHASE, D. D.* 1798—1852. Philander Chase was a descendant, in the fifth generation, from Aquila Chase, who came to America in 1640, resided at Hampton, N. H., five years, and then removed to Newbury, Mass., where he died December 24, 1670. He was a son of Dudley and Alice Chase, who lived in Sutton, Mass., about ten years, and then removed with his father and several brothers to New Hampshire, where, having obtained the grant of a town- ship of land on Connecticut River, they agreed to settle and called it Cor- nish, in honour of a place of that name in England, whence their ancestors had emigrated. Here the subject of this sketch was horn, — the youngest of fourteen children, on the 14th of December, 1775,— the very time when the American army was gathering before Quebec. Until he had reached his sixteenth year, he seems to have aspired to no occupation beyond that of a farmer ; but, in consequence of two distressing casualties of which he was the subject about that time, — a severe wound in his foot, and a frac- ture of his leg, he was led to change his purpose, and the rather as his excellent father urged him to consider these events as monitory in respect to his higher interests, and as pointing him to a different course of life. He immediately commenced his preparation for College, and within less than a year was entered at Dartmouth. His family, for several generations, had been Congregationalists ; and both his father and grandfather had held the oflSce of Deacon ; but circum- stances occurred about this time to direct their attention to the Episcopal • Bishop Chase's Keminiseences.— Ch. Rev., 1853.— MS. from G. B. Eapelye, Esq. ^5^ EPISCOPALIAN. Church, an'd it was not long before not only this young man, but his parents, brothers, sisters, and not a few others in the neighbourhood, had found their home in its bosom. He became at once a lay reader, officiating, as he had opportunity, in different places in the region. After his graduation in 1795, he visited Western Vermont, and went as far as Albany, with a view to obtain some advice in regard to his future studies. Mr. Ellison,* the Rector of St. Peter's at Albany, received him with great kindness, and through his influence he obtained employment, almost immediately, as a teacher in the Albany Academy, then just opened, and the next Sabbath read Divine Service at Troy. In the summer of 1796, before he was twenty-one years of age, he was married to Mary Fay, daughter of Daniel and Mary Fay, of Hardwick, Mass. In 1798, when he was about twenty-two, he received Deacon's Orders from Bishop Pro- voost, in St. George's Chapel, New York. For about a year and a half, he was now occupied as a missionary through the Northern and Western parts of the Diocese of New York, as successor to the Eev. E. G. Wetmore.t At Utica, then a mere hamlet, at Auburn, at Canandaigua, and several other places, he organized parishes ; and from his own small salary contributed a hundred dollars towards the erec- tion of a church at Stamford, on the Delaware. In the autumn of 1799, he accepted the charge of the churches at Pough- keepsie and Fishkill, and on the 10th of November, of that year, he was admitted by Bishop Provoost to the Order of Priests. For more than five years he resided at Poughkeepsie, and, besides performing the duties of his double cure, he taught first a private school, and then an Academy, being obliged to assume this additional service in order to make out a competent support for his family. Such an amount of labour proved too much even for his iron constitution ; and as some symptoms of alarming disease now developed themselves in the constitution of his wife, he began to meditate a removal to some more genial climate. The Protestants of New Orleans having applied to Bishop Moore of New York to send them a clergyman, he offered the place to Mr. Chase, who readily accepted it, and sailed for Louisiana in 1805. * Thouas Ellisoh was an Englishman by birth, was educated at the University of Cam- bridge, England, was chosen Rector of St. Peter's Church, Albany, May 1, 1787, and died on the 26th of April, 1802. He was chosen a Regent of the University, February 28, 1797. He was a man of great wit, of a genial disposition, and a favourite in social life. f RoBEET GrBiFriTH Wetmobb Was born in the County of West Chester, N. Y. ; was admit- ted to Holy Orders by Bishop Provoost in 1797; and commenced his ministry as a pioneer mis- sionary in Western New York, under the direction of ihe Missionary Society of the Diocese of New York, organized in 1796, — believed to be the first Society of the kind ever organized in the Episcopal Church in this country. His health soon became so much impaired as to unfit him for missionary labour, and he accordingly retired from the field after a short time, and in 1798 became Rector of St. George's Church, Schenectady, and Christ Church, Duanesburgh. This connection lasted about four years, when the state of his health obliged him to desist from labour altogether. He died at the age of thirty-five years. He received the honorary degree of Master of Arts from Columbia College, in 1798. He published his Inaugural Address, Sche- nectady, 1798, and also a pamphlet entitled "Extensive Charity in a Small Compass:" both of which are very creditable to his talents. Bishop Chase, who succeeded him in his mission- ary labours, says of him,— ""To learn what good this pious man did by his ministrations through the State, one must travel where he travelled, and converse with those with whom he conversed. The benefits arising to the Church of Christ and to individuals were apparently many and great. He exhorted the indolent, comforted the desponding, and awakened the careless ; in short, he so roused the people from their lethargy and excited them to a sense of their religious duties, that, in the year following, there were incorporated in the State seven new congregations, and Divine service began to be performed in many places, where people had never attempted it before." '^ PHILANDER CHASE. 455 The Parish of Christ Church, New Orleans, ivaa established by Mr. Chase's efforts, and nurtured by his care. In the summer of 1806, he returned to the North for his wife, but with that exception he never left the city, or the immediate neighbourhood, for a period of six years. He was often in the midst of the Yellow Fever, and in one instance suffered a severe attack of it, and was saved, as he believed, by drinking copiously of porter in a moment of excitement. He taught a school at New Orleans, as he had done at Poughkeepsie ; but it was a severe trial to him that his own two boys were separated from their parents, having been placed at a school in Vermont. In the summer of 1811, he removed his family back to New England, chiefly for the sake of educating his children. Having placed them at the Academy at Cheshire, over which the Rev. Tillotson Bronson, D. D., then presided, he became first a temporary supply, and ultimately the Eector, of Christ Church, Hartford, which, owing to some circumstances in its pre- vious history, had become somewhat depressed. Here he laboured with great assiduity, acceptance, and success : the parish grew annually in both numbers and compactness, and the general tone of religious feeling was much improved by his ministrations. But, notwithstanding the happiest relations existed between him and his people at Hartford, his thoughts and anxieties were continually directed towards the Great West, as the field which it was his duty to occupy ; and he at length came to the resolution to find his home somewhere in the vast regions beyond the Alleghany Mountains. Accordingly, on the 2d of March, 1817, he preached his Farewell Sermon at Hartford, and the next morning set out on his journey Westward. He preached in Ohio for the first time on the 16th of March — it was in the town of Salem, where there was not an Episcopalian. At once, the whole vigour of his frame and the whole ardour of his soul were put in requisition, and before May he had organized parishes at Windsor, Eavenna, Middlebury, Zanesville and Columbus. In May, with the co-operation, amongst others, of General Harrison and Dr. Drake, he presided at the first meeting of the parishioners of Christ Church, Cincinnati. In June, he became the Rector of three parishes, — at Worthington, Columbus, and Delaware ; and, having pur- chased a farm at Worthington, and accepted the charge also of the Academy, he hastened to Cleveland to meet Mrs. Chase, whom he had left at Hart- ford until he could provide for her a new home. The change of residence, accompanied, as it was, with the inconveniences incident to a new country, was followed by a recurrence of her consumptive symptoms ; and early in May following she finished her earthly course. The first Convention of Ohio had met at Columbus during the preceding winter ; and the next was appointed to be held in June at Worthington. At the former, two clergymen and nine lay delegates were present : at the latter, by about the same number, Mr. Chase was nominated for the Epis- copate ; — an office that must involve great labour and responsibility, with- out any pecuniary recompense. Some reports unfavourable to his moral character, originating from personal animosity at New Orleans, were afloat, and he declined, not only to accept the office, but even to exercise any spiritual functions, until they should be fairly investigated — they were 456 EPISCOPALIAN. investigated, and the result fully attested his innocence. This obstacle to his Consecration being removed, he was, on the 11th of February, 1819, consecrated in St. James' Church, Philadelphia, by Bishop White, assisted by Bishops Hobart, Kemp, and Croes. He returned to Ohio on horseback, and immediately commenced his Episcopal duties at Zanesville. In the summer of 1819, Bishop Chase was married to Sophia May Ingra- ham, in whom he found, during the rest of his life, a most affectionate companion, and a most efficient sharer and helper of his manifold labours. His second son, who bore his name, who had been graduated at Harvard College the year before, and had since been at sea as a teacher, with some of the duties of Chaplain, in the ship of Commodore Macdonough, now came to his aid, and was soon admitted to Holy Orders. In the autumn of 1821, being compelled to labour with his own hands throughout the week for an insufficient support, he accepted the Presidency of Cincinnati College, and retained the office nearly two years. He became now deeply impressed with the conviction that some extraordinary effort must be made in order to supply the West with ministers ; and while con templating this great want, just before the meeting of the Diocesan Con- vention, the thought occurred to him that possibly the charity of the Church of England might be successfully invoked in aid of an effort to establish a seminary designed to meet this pressing exigency. At the close of the Convention, the proposition, already matured in his own mind, was laid before the Clergy and Laity ; but scarcely more than a reluctant assent was given to it, — nobody seeming to share with the author his confident expectations of success. It was at first hoped that the son might be able to make the voyage to England ; but when, at his admission to Priest's Orders, a few days after, he was found so feeble that he was obliged to be supported by two of his brethren through the service, that hope was at once abandoned. The Bishop, therefore, determined to go forth and make the appeal himself ; and that, notwithstanding it would occasion his sepa- ration from a beloved son, whom, in all probability, if he lived to return, he would not find among the living. But the Bishop had yet other trials to meet at the very commencement of his enterprise. On his arrival at New York, he found that his project was received by Bishop Hobart with very decided disapprobation ; and that other friends from whom he had expected sympathy and co-operation, were little disposed to commit themselves to what seemed to them a chimerical adventure. What added to his embarrassment was that Bishop Hobart visited England at the same time ; and he could not doubt that his influence there, admitting that he only followed out his own conscientious convictions, would be wholly adverse to his success. On his arrival in England, Bishop Chase met at first with rather a dis- heartening reception ; but the delivery of a letter from Henry Clay to Lord Gambler, whom Mr. Clay had met as one of tho British Commissioners for the negotiation of the Treaty of Ghent, opened for him a brighter pros- pect. His Lordship was President of the Church Missionary Society ; and, after examining the Bishop's papers, and becoming satisfied that his object was a good one, he gave to it the full weight of his influence, adding a very liberal pecuniary contribution. From this time, many of the pro- PHILANDER CHASE. 457 minent Clergy, including some of the Dignitaries of the Church, together with severcal of the Nobility, espoused his cause with great zeal, and the result of his mission was that he returned to this country in July, 1824, with twenty thousand dollars, to which ten thousand more were subse- quently added. In the midst of these successful labours, he received the afflictive tidings of the death of his son, whom he had left sinking under the power of disease. For two years after his return, he was engaged in obtaining the Charter, fixing upon the site, and arranging the foundation, of Kenyon College, and the Theological Seminary of Ohio. He encamped on the hill which he named Gambler, and incurred a severe lameness from the exposure, lie fenced round the work, and the domain of eight thousand acres, and estab- lished a mill, a store, and a quarry. He obtained considerable aid from different parts of the United States, and received five hundred pounds from Lord Kenyon, in addition to his previous donations, — given in the name of a beloved daughter who had died a short time before. The College was at length habitable, and the students who had lived in log cabins around his own humble dwelling at Worthington, now gathered to this beautiful spot. The institution, by this time, might be said to be in successful operation, — having an able body of instructers, and as many pupils as could be conve- niently accommodated. Thus was Bishop Chase engaged during a period of ten years, uniting the several distinct characters of Founder and President of the College, and Head of the Diocese, and discharging the duties belonging to each with an assiduity and energy rarely equalled. But at length, after some minor difficulties had been disposed of, a stand was taken by the Professors involving the question of the extent of his powers over the institution of which he had been the originator ; and they were unanimously sustained by the Convention, which met at Gambler. On the same day, he resigned his office as President, and as Bishop of Ohio. This was in September, 1831. Immediately after this, he left Gambler, and settled down in the wilder- ness on a spot of land belonging to a relative, which he named ".The Val- ley of Peace." Here he remained during the next winter, occupying a cabin fifteen feet square, which, every Sunday, became a church. The next summer, he took possession of a fine tract on the St. Joseph, in Michigan, near the borders of Indiana, and called it Gilead. Here, for three years, he cultivated his land, at the same time acting as missionary in all that part of Michigan, and planning for himself a wide circuit of Visitations, which "invaded no man's Diocese, Parish, or labours." But, in 1835, the few clergymen and parishes in Illinois, having formed themselves into a Dio- cese, elected him their Bishop. He recognised the voice of Providence in the appointment, and immediately hastened to his new field of labour, in which he found but one church, six organized parishes, and less than fifty communicants. It was in nearly the same condition in which he had found Ohio twelve years before ; and he resolved to resort to a similar expedient in aid of its interests. In the autumn of 1835, he embarked again for England. Several of the friends from whom he had received the largest benefac- tions, on his former visit, had passed away ; but many remained to welcome Vol. V. 58 458 EPISCOPALIAN. him, and encourage his new enterprise by their liberal donations. The entire sum that he collected was not far from ten thousand dollars. After an absence of seven months, he returned, and as his house at Grilead, with many of his papers, had been burnt the preceding winter, he hastened to remove his family to Illinois, where, in the County of Peoria, he built a temporary dwelling, — the place being called "Robin's Nest." In 1838, the seventh year after his departure from Gambier, he com- menced the foundation of Jubilee College ; but it was not till 1847 that a Charter, such as he desired, — subjecting it fully to the authority of the Episcopal Church, and giving ultimate control of its concerns to the Bishop, could be obtained. A salary of a thousand dollars was paid him annually by the Board of Missions, in consideration of his extensive mis- sionary labours. In the winter of 1839-40, he visited Mississippi, Louisi- ana, Georgia, and South Carolina, and received liberal contributions for his own comfort and his infant seminary. One Professorship was endowed by contributions from South Carolina ; another chiefly from Philadelphia, New York, and Brooklyn ; and his English friends did not fail to send him, from time to time, substantial tokens of their regard for him, and their sympathy in his enterprise. In 1844, a large number of temporary scholarships in his College were sustained by contributions from New Eng- land and New York. Thus he was permitted to see the smiles of Provi- dence upon the second College which had been founded and reared by his broad philanthropy and indomitable perseverance. In 1845, as he was returning from the Consecration of Bishop Potter, at Philadelphia, the vehicle in which he was travelling was overset on the Alleghany Mountains, and he sustained a severe injury, similar to one which befel him, while travelling on the same road, fifteen years before. But he was now in his seventieth year, and did not, as in the former case, fully recover from the effect of the injury. From that time he usually sat in the delivery of his sermons. Bishop Chase paid his last visit to the Eastern States at the season of the General Convention of 1847, when, as well as at the previous Conven- tion, he prepared the Pastoral Letter. He had been the Presiding Bishop since the death of Bishop Griswold, in 1848. He attended the Conven- tion at Cincinnati in 1850, and at the close of its session, and near mid- night, read his Pastoral Address, in a sitting posture, but with a strong voice, and an emphatic and earnest manner. After a few days, he returned to his home, to linger a little longer before entering into his rest. Though he had some trials in his last days, yet they were greatly alleviated by the sympathy of his friends ; and it was especially gratifying that he was permitted to welcome as an assistant and successor in the Episcopal office, one in whom he could feel the most cordial confidence. His Diocese, which, when he took charge of it, had barely an existence, now numbered thirty clergymen, and forty-nine organized congregations. Without any longer attempting much pastoral service, he preached occasionally, as his strength would permit, and he delighted especially to instruct the lambs of the flock. He made his will, bequeathing to Jubilee College all his own personal claims against its now valuable estate. In an article pub- lished in a periodical called " The Motto," a short time before his death. PHILANDER CHASE. 459 he says that he " cannot conclude without assuring his enemies, if he have any, of his hearty forgiveness, even as he hopes for forgiveness, if he has done injury to any." On the 14th of September, 1852, while he was riding with Mrs. Chase near his house, the carriage, by some means, was turned from its balance, and he was thrown to the ground. When he recovered his consciousness, his first words were, — "You may now order my coflSn — I am glad of it." His injuries appeared less serious than they proved; but he expressed no hope of recovery, and seemed absorbed in meditation on the love of Christ, and in anticipation of the rest and glory that remain for the saints. His family had scarcely become seriously alarmed concerning him, when he sunk into a deep sleep from which he never awoke. He expired on the 20th, six days after the casualty occurred. Bishop Chase had five sons, three of whom entered the ministry, and his only daughter became the wife of a Western clergyman. Bishop Chase published A Plea for the West, 1826 ; The Star in the West or Keny on College, 1828; Defence of Kenyon College, Ohio, 1831. About 1840, he commenced publishing his " lleminiscences," in a series of Numbers; and in 1848, they were republished in two volumes, 8vo., under the following title — " Reminiscences : An Autobiography, compris- ing a History of the principal events in the author's life, to 1847." FROM THE RT. REV. BENJAMIN B. SMITH, D. D., BISHOP OP THE DIOCESE OP KENTDCKT. Kaloeama, February 9, 1857. My dear Sir: My acquaintance with the late Bishop Chase dates back to the year 1828, when, as Editor of the Philadelphia Recorder, it gave iiie pleasure to show my newly awakened interest in the cause of education and religion at the West, by rendering the columns of that paper, and my small leisure, subser- vient to the great work he then had in hand at Kenyon College. He was at that time in the full maturity of his vigorous manhood, and my impression of his massive form, majestic height, and (compared with other men) almost ele- phantine proportions, is as fresh at this moment, as when, in the parlour of our mutual friend, Paul Beck, Esq., he rose to receive and welcome me. There was about him nothing of the grossness of a person overburdened with flesh, but only the heavy roll, and majestic movement of an almost giant. His capacious chest, in its audible and heavy heavings, kept time with his stately step: and altoo-ether, the broad expansive brow, the massive features, and the thick folds of the heavy skin, set off by a peculiar and characteristic costume safely within the limits of eccentricity, — a velvet skull-cap, and a cassock coat, presented before you the image of no common man. In after years, when, as Presiding Bishop of the House of Bishops, he appeared, on public occasions, at their head, in full canonicals, all men were impressed with the idea that a great branch of the Church, co-extensive with the limits of a Continent, could have found in no human form, not even in that of Daniel Webster, a more fit representative, as its Patriarch. And yet there was all the time a child-light in his eye, a quick and nervous play of all the muscles of his face, and an archness of expression spread over his whole countenance, which, in his last daguereotype, looks slyly above his glasses, and which will carry down to posterity no very incorrect impression that something queer within was being held under constant restraint. 460 EPISCOPALIAN. The firm, persistent traits of his character were well expressed by his per- sonal appearance, but not its intensity. And yet it would be difBcult to say in the elements of which it most abounded. This intensity wa.s not simply all- absorbing to himself; but it was so gushing and impetuous that it either carried every thing before it, repelled the listless and indifferent from his track, or aroused a positive resistance. Where he was, others were more likely to hear than to be heard, and whatever topic at first might float upon the surface of any company where he might chance to be, was soon swallowed up in the torrent of his earnestness. In most other men such intensity must soon have died out, or frequently have changed its aims. Not so in him. His blood was at fever heat for forty years together, without the slightest danger either of delirium or of syncope. Such tenacity of purpose and indomitable firmness of will, within this age, has probably not had its equal, except in the case of the great Wellington, or the late Emperor of all the Russias. And however severe may be the criticism which time and experience may pass upon the wisdom and expediency of some of his plans and measures, the manner in which he rose above difficulties, endured delays, surmounted obstacles, and even turned reverses to good account, will awaken the admiration of all who follow his footsteps or study his character. That alone was needed which Providence largely supplied, a noble object and an exalted mission, sanctified by the word of God and prayer, in order that such a character should leave, broad and deep, his mark upon his age and country. Very faithfully yours, B. B. SMITH. FROM THE RT. REV. GEORGE BURGESS, D. D., BISHOP OF THE DIOCESE Or MAINE. Gaedineh, Me., December 12, 1857. Reverend and dear Sir: The friend who suggested me as a suitable source of information respecting the late Bishop Philander Chase, must have been guided less by any personal knowledge which I could have possessed of one who was a clergyman of much experience when I was born, and whom I never saw till lie was almost sixty, and then only at long intervals, than by the circumstances that the traditions of his Rectorship at Hartford were still fresh when I became his fourth successor in that parish, and that I have bonds of affinity to the family of his excellent widow. Such as they are, my recollections and means of illus- tration cannot be refused. In person, Bishop Chase must have been, in his prime, one of the noblest of men, and such is the statement of those who knew him then, a statement easily credited by those who, at a later day, were familiar with his commanding flo-ure, his fine blue eye, his genial smile, and the handsome outline of his features. He was accustomed to wear, in his advanced years, a black velvet cap and a full, cassock-like garment, which, when he appeared amongst strangers, must have assisted to fix attention; and from attention he never appeared to shrink away. It was a part of his nature to stand forth, to act for himself, to rule in his own sphere, and to open the way for others. The mind was fitly expressed in the majestic frame, which age rendered unwieldy, but did not bend. In conversation, his powers were singular, versatile and exceedingly effective. He was profoundly serious, and he was irresistibly humorous, with the vary- ing tide of the discourse; and whatever were the society or the occasion, he could adapt himself to its requisitions without losing at all the original freshness of his natural manner. So it was that on his visits to England, in some of the most PHILAKDER CHASE. 4g]^ elevated circles, the pious raciness, if the expression may be allowed, which marked his conversation, had a charm beyond the less striking words of men quite as able to present a cause successfully in public assemblies or through the press. ^His illustrations by anecdote and by his own experience maybe con- ceived by those who have read his Reminiscences, which somewhat approach the character of his oral narratives. As a parish minister, he had great and sancti- fied powers ill the chamber of sickness, in the family, and when a few were gath- ered around him in his study. Incidents of such intercourse were held in lively remembrance after twenty or thirty years, and sometimes had given a lasting direction to the thoughts of the listener. Though an earnest, faithful and impressive preacher. Bishop Chase could never have found in the pulpit that throne which he was formed to fill, and from which he was to wield such peculiar authority over the minds of men. lie acted rather than spoke or wrote. His heart pushed him onward to the conception and exe- cution of great Christian enterprises. It was given him to lead; and he was impa- tient when men were slow to follov/. He identified himself with his work; and if ho were thwarted or contradicted, it was not always easy for him to feel that it could have been in Christian sincerity. Few men are readier to forgive; but the very warmth with which he laid hold in a good cause, and the consciousness of his own simplicity of purpose, would not permit him to regard otherwise than as personal opponents some who wished well to his undertakings, but with- held their confidence from some of his decisions. From such he maintained somewhat too readily a distance, the penalty of which he was willing to pay in labouring without their co-operation. But we may remember that even such a man as Paul preferred to go on his missionary way with Silas only, rather than have the society of Barnabas, if Mark must go also. There was in Bishop Chase an element of what may be termed romance, ill as the word may seem to accord with our recollections of his gravity, dignity, and years. He was struck with the striking, the touching, the morally picturesque view of a transaction. His first marriage was that of a youth of twenty, not yet a graduate. As soon as he was in Orders, he was planting parishes in the wilds of Western New York. He went, as a Protestant minister, to New Orleans, when New Orleans was what San Francisco is, except that it was also a Roman Catholic capital, and the seat of frequent pestilence. Happy as he was at Hartford, he had no rest, till he had attempted, almost single-handed, the establishment of his own Church in the new, fertile fields of Ohio. He planned there his College in the spirit of a mediaeval founder, surrounding it with a broad and fair domain, and rearing its thick walls and buttresses as if for ages. For aid he crossed the ocean, and threw himself on the sympathy of the Church of England, awaking as she was to the vastness of her resources and responsibilities. When he could no longer preside over the College and the Dio- cese with paternal authority and affection, he Avithdrew at once, and set his face towards the wilderness. There, too, he was content to be a patriarchal tiller of the soil, in labours which he always loved; till, at what-he recognised at once as the call of God's Providence, he arose once more to renew on the prairies of Illinois the whole gigantic enterprise for which the Diocese of Ohio still blesses his name. He appeared to love those duties which involved some adventure and exposure, some appeal to the imagination, and some requisition upon both muscular and mental energies. His eye for the beauties of nature was always clear; and all his sensibilities were warm and tender. I have heard him, in his old age, allude to touching passages in his own life, repeat noble verses which had early sunk into his memory, and speak of the kindness of departed friends, in a way which seemed to lay open, as an ingenuous youth might do, all the ebb and flow of his large heart. 462 EPISCOPALIAN. His faith was that of an Apostle, or of Abraham. " Jehovah Jieeh," " the Lord will provide," was the motto which he took, as expressive of his expe- rience, as well as of his confidence. I remember a little incident at my last interview with him, at Cincinnati. He had just heard of the birth of twin grandchildren. " I always rejoice," said he, " when twins are born, because I know that their Heavenly Father sends with them a double supply of food." In the same spirit he moved on towards the grave. He appeared, as I have nnderstood, as if almost unacquainted with doubt or apprehension, simply trusting the faithfulness and covenant of Him whom he knew that he had believed, and ready to go forth, as he had been accustomed to do, when he should hear the command. I am, with the best wishes for the full success of your work, in preserving memorials of the good. Your Brother in the Gospel, GEORGE BURGESS. ISAAC WILKINS, D. D. 1799—1830. FROM GOUVERNEUR MORRIS WILKINS, ESQ. Castle Hill Farm, West Chestek, June 7, 1858. My dear Sir: Your request that I should furnish you some account of my venerated grandfather, the Rev. Dr. Isaac Wilkins, I am quite aware, calls me to a service of no small delicacy ; and yet my regard for his memory, not less than my disposition to oblige you, forbids me to decline it. What I shall write will be drawn partly from various records and documents still in possession of the family, and partly from my own recollections, — for he lived many years after I had reached mature age, and I had every opportunity, from personal and endearing intercourse, of becoming intimately acquainted with his character. Isaac Wilkins was born at Withywood, in the Island of Jamaica, on the 17th of December, 1742. His father, Martin Wilkins, was a lawyer of some eminence, as he attained to a seat upon the Bench in that Island. He was possessed of a valuable planting interest in the Parish of St. Dorothy, where he resided. On the 8th of October, 1733, he married Johanna Roberts, daughter of Thomas Roberts, who was a wealthy planter, and left a large estate. It appears from the probate of his will, granted to his widow and executrix, on the 23d of January, 1749, that he died about that time. They had come to New York, to rear in a better climate, and to educate under greater advantages, than the West Indies afforded,' their son and only surviving child, Isaac, then about six years of age! Martin Wilkins met a sudden death by apoplexy. He went to dine with a friend who lived in the house now known as the Watson House, in Pearl Street, knocked at the door, and the servant who came to admit him, found him dead on the steps. His wife, delicate and sensitive, so mourned that she followed him in a few weeks. The care and education of Isaac Wilkins ISAAC "WILKINS. 4g3 devolved upon his aunt, Mrs. Mary Macey, a widow, and the sister of his mother, who had removed to New York with the family. Her will was made in 1763, soon after which she died in New York, leaving her nephew, then just arriving at early manhood, with no relative in the world of whom he had any knowledge, hut a nephew, whom he had never seen, but had heard was living in North Carolina. Some idea of character is often impressed upon us by a mere glance, — a single thought or sentiment. Among his memoranda. Dr. Wilkins says that '"pleasure must ask the leave of pain to be enjoyed,' was a saying of my father. It was a senti- ment expressed by my beloved and good mother, that ' a slave ought never to be punished ; for slavery in itself was a sufficient punishment for every fault.' " In this one thought of his father's mind, and this one sentiment of his mother's heart, there may be something by which to trace a lineal descent in Dr. Wilkins' character. Mrs. Macey was an estimable woman, and the memory of her intelligence and piety was ever cherished by her nephew, and no doubt had a happy influence upon his character and course of life. Her residence was on the corner of G-arden Street and Broadway, where his school-boy days were passed, under the instruction of Mr. Leonard Cutting, an accomplished scholar, who was shortly afterwards con- nected with King's (now Columbia) College. He (Mr. Wilkins) entered that College in 1756, and graduated in 1760, being one of a class of six. What proficiency he made in College can be better learned from his success than from any memorials which remain of that part of his life — only he is known to have been a fair classical and belles lettres scholar. His youth was genial, generous and frank, and, guarded by nature and education, it was unsullied by vice. He formed many intimacies at this period with estimable people, that were mutually cherished through life, and there is a fine moral beauty in their time-stained letters, which are still in existence. Yet there are anecdotes preserved among his papers, which show that there was no want of spirit in him, and that he had no particular disrelish for a practical joke. "While," said he, "a lad at College, my friends Phil. (Jamaica) Livingston, David Griffis, Phil. Cort- landt, and myself went on a fishing and shooting party down the Sound. The wind heading us, and we too lazy to row, determined to land on an island in the Sound, where we found a flock of fine fat sheep belonging to old Chris. Delancey. This determined us to sup upon mutton. We shot one of the sheep and roasted it for supper. When we returned, we told Mr. Delancey, who joined in the laugh, and would not sufier us to pay for the sheep." On the 7th of November, 1762, he was married to Isabella, daughter of the Hon. Lewis Morris, — who was born on the 14th of February, 1748, and of course was then only in her sixteenth year. They resided for one or two years at Morrisania, when Mr. Wilkins made a voyage to the West Indies to look after his property. He was the heir of his father, Martin Wilkins, and of his aunt, Mrs. Macey, and joint heir of his uncle, Thomas Eoberts, all owning property in Jamaica, as appears from their several wills now in possession of the family. But a long minority, faithless agents and trustees, and the perishable nature of that India property, left him in the aggregate but a moderate estate. It was enough, however, to 464 EPISCOPALIAN. enable him, on his return, to purchase Castle Hill Neek, in the County of West Chester. Upon this farm he now went to reside, and occupied him- self in its cultivation. There still remain the house in which he lived, and some elm-trees, hanging over the roof, which are regarded as noble specimens, and which, as saplings, he then brought in his own hands, from the woods, and planted at his door. His tastes, habits, and early religious predilections had given him an inclination for the Church. His educated mind sought occupation, and his limited fortune confirmed his purpose of preparing for the profession of his choice. Love for the Church and loy- alty for the Government, under the circumstances of the times, became correlative sentiments. So, interested in public aifairs, and of an active mind, he discussed among his neighbours the questions of the day. In a word, they saw fit to send him to the Colonial Legislature, from the borough of West Chester, in 1772. He accepted the trust, subject indeed to that higher and ulterior object of his life, the Christian Ministry. Under a sense even of Christian obligation, he entered upon public affairs ; and justified by the opinions he was accustomed to respect, he connected the prosperity of the Church with the stability of the Grovernment. From the session of that year to April, 1775, he was an active member, ever ready in debate and firm in purpose ; for he felt that he served Grod in serving his country ; — honest, for he had other objects than political advancement. He never denied the claims of what he deemed rational and. constitutional liberty, but sought to sustain them by justifiable means, regarding such still available and consistent with a religious fidelity to the authority of Grov- ernment. Though his adversaries were highly gifted and distinguished men, the last session in which he served terminated in his success. As Chairman of the Committee on a petition to the King, which was resisted, paragraph by paragraph, in Committee and in the House, he was ena- bled to carry it by a large majority. And again, on Colonel Woodhull's Resolution to send delegates to the Continental Congress, he struggled and triumphed, a leader with his party. "When the question of appointing delegates to the Second Congress came up," says Sabine, " he made a speech, which was much admired by his friends, for its eloquence, clear- ness, and precision." Schuyler and George Clinton were his principal anta- gonists in the debate. As this speech affords a good specimen, and perhaps the best that has been preserved, of the views of the Loyalists of the state of the controversy, I would gladly insert it entire, if your limits would permit. As a matter of curious history, and as the effort of an able man, it is well worthy of a careful perusal." (American Loyalists, by L. Sabine.) Besides his course in the Assembly, he was the reputed author of seve- ral political pamphlets, which rendered him odious to the Whigs. One, " The West Chester Farmer," has been claimed by a late historian as the product of another pen ; and the claim, whatever may be the result, does honour to the authorship. But, until some documentary evidence disturbs traditions, and the testimony of other writers, the question is not at issue. It became necessary for Mr. Wilkins to leave America, — for the Sons of Liberty now accomplished all the Assembly declined to do, — and he, sub- jected to indignity, if not in danger, could no longer be useful at home. ISAAC WILKINS. 465 On Lis departure, he issued the following'Address, which gives his reasons, and is so characteristic that it may be regarded as a moral image of the man. The asperities of sect and party, which disturbed the peace of our ancestors, are all quieted, and this Farewell Address may be commended to the just and the generous of our day, to indicate the place he would choose to hold in their memory. " My Countrymen : " Before I leave America, the land I love, and in which is contained every thing that is valuable and dear to me, — my wife, my children, my friends, and property, permit me to make a short and faithful declaration, which I am induced to do, neither through fear, nor a consciousness of having voted wrong. An honest man and a Christian hath nothing to apprehend from this world. God is my Judge, and God is my witness that all I have done, written and said, in relation to the present unnatural dis- pute between Great Britain and her Colonies, proceeded from an honest intention of serving my country ; her welfare and prosperity were the objects towards which all my endeavours have been directed. They still are the sacred objects which I shall ever steadily and invariably keep in view. And when in England, all the influence that so inconsiderable a man as I am, can have, shall be exerted in her behalf. It has been my constant maxim through life to do my duty conscientiously, and to trust the issue of my actions to the Almighty. May that God, in whose hands are all events, speedily restore peace and liberty to my unhappy country. May Great Britain and America be now united in the bonds of everlasting unity, and when united, may they continue a free, a virtuous and happy nation to the end of time. I leave America, and every endearing connection, because I will not raise my hand against my Sovereign, nor will I draw my sword against my country — when I can conscientiously draw it in her favour, my life shall be cheerfully devoted to her service. Isaac Wilkins. "New York, May 3, 1775." Mr. Wilkins remained about a year in England, solaced by the society or- correspondence of friends and countrymen exiled from home, and, like him- self, fugitives from the raging storm. He was in communication with the' Ministry, and was consulted as an intelligent man, who had taken part in public affairs. Happily, there remains documentary evidence, undw his own hand, that he made great efforts, using every advantage of intellect and position, to aid in a plan for the accommodation of the dispute between Great Britain and her Colonies. This consists in a letter addressed to Lord North, •written at his Lordship's desire that he would embody the views offered in. conversation on a plan of accommodation of the dispute with the Colonies., It will be found manly, though courteous, ingenuous, statesman-like, and, almost prophetic. If such counsels had prevailed, it is perhaps idle to. speculate upon the result ; but surely if such opinions and purposes character- ized any class of men who took part in the Revolution, history should credit them for having modified events which they could not control. Mr. Wilkins returned to his family and home at Castle HiJl, now laid waste and made desolate in the turmoil of the times. He retreated from it with his family to Long Island, where, at Newtown and Fktbush, he Vol. V. 59 466 EPISCOPALIAN. resided, until the Peace. His friends, Dr. Cooper and Dr. Chandler, wrote at this time to condole with him on his sufferings and losses — " Before the receipt of your letter," says the latter, " I had heard of the vengeance with which your property, and even your family, had been pursued, as soon as it was known that you had returned to America." He sold his farm in 1784, which probably, in deference to some family influence, had not been confis- cated, and with the proceeds, — twenty-five hundred pounds, — he took his family to Shelburne in Nova Scotia, purchased property, and returned to agricultural pursuits. But he was early sent again to the Assembly in that Province, and soon after placed at the head of a Committee for the distribution of lands among the Loyalists, who had resorted to that part of the Colony. In a letter to a relative in 1794, who had urged his return to the States, on terms which he seems to have felt like a reproach, (he writes,) " T shall venture to declare, and I do it with heartfelt satisfaction, that during the ten years I have lived in this country, I have been indus- triously and virtuously employed, both in public and private life. I have served my country in the Legislature with fidelity, success, and approba- tion. I have served the infant town and settlement of Shelburne, where it was my fortune to be placed in various capacities, with the most per- severing and indefatigable affection. I have been the sole preceptor and instructer of my children, my narrow circumstances not admitting of a better education for them. I have toiled with many a weary arm and aching heart, in bringing a tract of wilderness into a state of cultivation, and in which I have no doubt I should have succeeded, if a numerous family and a scanty income had not obstructed all my endeavours ; nor has my mind been unsolicitous or unemployed in devising other means for the support and advancement of my family. If I have failed, wiser and better men have failed before me. But I trust I have said enough to show that I have put my shoulder to the wheel, and I hope I may now, innocently at least, and without any reproach, declare that, though still poor, I cheer- fully subscribe to the will of Providence." But it was in vain to battle with mischance, which rather befel the Province than himself, and happier days have since dawned on both. Words written in the confidence of pri- vate friendship are only admitted to portray, as I could not do, his struggles in adversity, and the motives of his return to New York, in 1798, to which his early predilections, and the ties of family connection invited him. Cir- cumstances now favoured pursuits more congenial with his disposition and habits. While only preparing for the ministry, he was called by partial kindness to the Rectorship of St. Peter's, at West Chester, and as soon as he was ordained a Deacon, he entered upon his duties. On the 14th of January, 1801, he was admitted into the " Holy Order of Priests," by Bishop Provoost. Mindful of his services and sacrifices, the British Gov- ernment had already bestowed upon him an annuity of an hundred and twenty pounds for life, upon which, with such further provision as his parish could afford, " he lived for thirty-one years their diligent and faithful minister, satisfied with his condition," nor (in his own language) " ever wished or ever wont forth to seek a better living," Mrs. Wilkins died in 1810, and it needed all his piety to support him in his deep affliction. She was a fine woman, of great good sense, a faithful ISAAC WILKINS. 4gy counsellor, and a cheerful companion. These were qualities which fitted the wants of her husband's hard and various life ; and thus he mourned :— " I grieve not, Isa, thou art gone, " I grieve tliat I am left alone " Still in this wilderness to stray, '■ My bosom friend call'd far away. "I grieve not, Isa, thou art gone, " I joy thy toil of life is done; " Disease escaped, old age and pain " And poverty's depressing train. " I joy that thou art gone before, " Safe landed on that blissful shore ' ' Where life is one eternal day, "And every tear is wiped away. " I grieve — for who, now cares increase, " With soothing lips shall whisper peace? " Whose eye shall cheer when pains invade 1 " On whose fond bosom lay my head? " I grieve thy voice no more to hear, " I sue thy form no more appear: "I grieve earth's sweetest blessing fled, " My cheerless home, my lonely bed. " I grieve not, Isa, thou art gone, " I grieve that I am left alone, " Still in this wilderness to stray, "My bosom friend so far away. " I grieve, but Oh, my grief forgive, '■ Great God, in whom I move and live, " Teach me my sorrows to resign, " And bend my erring will to thine. " Thy love alone all griefs can cheer, " Oh make us both thy guardian care; " Let not the grave our union sever, "Nor separate us. Lord, forever. "As joined on earth, so let us stand " In Heaven, united by thy hand; " With thy redeemed together raise " Our songs of triumph, thanks and praise." In 1811, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by the College at which he was educated. Dr. Wilkins was a well made man, something less than six feet in height, until a little bended in declining years. His features were bold. He had gray eyes and very expressive, a projecting brow, a prominent nose, and large mouth. In his latter days, large locks of silvery hair, flowing from his fine head, and touching upon his shoulders, gave him the venerable aspect of a Patriarch. He had a clear voice, but with that refined and pleasing tone which so often sorts with generous blood. He read the Church Service with great simplicity ; but with such just emphasis that you felt that he was thinking of what he read. His sermons were concise, for- cible and sententious. He used imagery not for mere ornament, but for illustration. His delivery was natural, action only following from excite- ment, and eifective as he grew more earnest. His ends and aims in preach- ing are best seen in the following extract from his note-book, except that his sermons, though short, were not so short as he thought they should be : — " The present mode of preaching is a good one, and has done great 468 EPISCOPALIAN. good ; but I am persuaded it is not the best. A sermon should be short and pointed, that it may be felt and remembered. It should in general be directed to one object, and seldom exceed a quarter of an hour. It should be a probe, piercing the corrupted part, and letting out the peccant matter. It should bring those who hear it to the judgment-seat of Christ, and set before them the final sentence of life or death. Its objects should be not to please the ear, but to affect and correct the conscience and the heart ; to give hope and consolation to the righteous, but trembling, and confusion, and terror to the wicked, the impenitent, and the unbelieving. This is to preach the Gospel ; and the preacher must be in earnest, and believe and feel what he says, or he will be able to effect nothing." However marked with solemnity his performance of religious duties, he was accustomed to say that no one but a pious man has a right to be cheerful. There was indeed a vein of humour that ran through all the intercourse of his social life, and an instance may be adduced to show with what address he could use it upon a fit occasion. Previous to Dr. Hobart's being chosen Bishop, three of the known friends of the Rev. Cave Jones, between whom and the former there had been a controversy, went into the country to dine with Dr. Wilkins at the parsonage. It was no secret that Dr. Wilkins had great confidence in the piety, energy, and abilities of Dr. Hobart, and thought him the proper candidate for the oifice of Bishop. Just before the cloth was removed, one of them said to him, — " Pray, Sir, whom do you mean to support for Bishop ?" " He," (said Dr. W.) " Grentlemen, whom you mean to oppose; 'So eat your pudding. Slaves, and keep the peace.'" The first part of the sentence was expressed in a serious tone, but the last with a jovial face and voice. Not another word was said on that subject, though it was in fact the object of the visit, which was otherwise pleasant enough. I am fortunate, my dear Sir, to find at intervals in Dr. Wilkins' career, some lines of his own tracing to help me tell his story ; and thus it is he thinks and writes about his own old age. Pardon me for crowding upon you these fugitive pieces, but I would be glad to relieve the dryness of a sketch, by raising in your readers a little of the dramatic effect, which they had upon myself, as they came to light in looking for materials. " Thou busy world, at eighty -two, " What more have I to do with you ? " My setting sun, presaging night, " The grave already, in my sight; " Each dear associate gone before, " My bosom friend too seen no more; " Then what are all thy cares to me, " Thy joys, thy pomps, thy vanity ? " Thou busy world, at eighty-two, " What more concern have I with you ? " Vain mortal, pause ! reflect again ! " Reflect, lest all thy hopes be vain; '' Thy warfare must be carried on " Thy Christian race is not yet run. " In feith, in fear thy course .pursue, " The world has great concerns for you; " Still dangers press, still duty calls, " Still pleasure tempts and pain appals; ''Malignant spirits still annoy, " To dash thy hopes and blast thy joy. " Then watchful keep thy armour on, ISAAC "WILKIN S. 469 While aught remain, think nothing done. " Gird up thy loins, call forth thy powers, " Or yet the prize may not he yours. " The time is short, tlie goal is near, '■ Then trembling, trembling, persevere. " Heaven opens wide its golden portal, " See ! See ! thy Lord ! and Crown immortal ! Born and educated in affluence, he had that quiet mien which belongs to one who never questions his position. His manners were frank and cour- teous, suiting his moral and personal dignity, with such an easy fitness that he never risked any thing in his playful moods, nor in sober earnest had he any thing to gaih by art or mannerism. He had strong prejudices, but they were on the side of duty, order, and orthodox faith ; to which he held a Christian should be true even to martyrdom. He had naturally a proud spirit, but it was subdued by the practice of Christian humility. He had a quick but generous temper, and the current which it started from his heart came back the milk of human kindness. Dr. Wilkins had a family of twelve children, some of whom survived him, and "some" (it is said) "attained distinction." He died at the Rectory in West Chester on the 5th of February, 1830, in the eighty-ninth year of his age. He enjoyed through life a good constitution, a strong frame, a sound mind, and a cheerful heart. He followed his duty to the brink of the grave, and although, from extreme age, he climbed his pulpit slowly, with feeble knees and a trembling hand, yet his warning voice came down firm and audible to the last. On that last, that dreadful day, he said, — " I am not afraid of death, though doomed to encounter it. I know that I cannot enter Paradise without passing through its dark recesses. But then the light of God's countenance will cheer me on my way, and I will soon chant hosannas to the King of Kings." The last rays of that day's sun, it is said, lighted his countenance, as he tried to fold his hands in prayer, and brightened the triumph of devotion, won without a struggle and without a sigh. Near the chancel in the new Church of St. Peter's, which adorns with Gothic art the parish in which he laboured, and the ground in which he rests, a mural monument of the same architecture, and with appropriate inscriptions, has been dedicated to his memory. The Rt. Rev. Bishop Onderdonk of this Diocese, who was acquainted with Dr. Wilkins, has kindly supplied the following anecdotes respecting him, which furnish a fine illustration of his character : — " Dr. Wilkins, for many years, was much in public life, particularly while a resident of Nova Scotia. As a public man he was often at public and State entertainments. On one occasion, he was a guest at a sort of official dinner, given, I think, by the Governor of the Province. Be the host, however, who he may, his bon vivant propensities were unfortunately strong, and he was nothing loath to make the low boast of his ability to perform large feats in drinking wine. On this occasion, the cloth being removed, a large supply of wine was placed upon the table, and the door locked. Mr. Wilkins, an habitually temperate man, although not a tee- totaler, enjoyed the good wine as long as he thought it was proper to do so. The host had announced it, as the rule of the feast, that no gentleman should let the decanter pass in its somewhat rapid rounds, without filling his glass and drinking. Totally regardless, however, of the rule, Mr. Wil- 470 EPISCOPALIAN. kins soon reversed his glass on the table, and addressed the host to the fol- lowing effect : — "I know, Sir, that I am your prisoner, and cannot leave the room. But I have drank as much wine as a gentleman and a Chris- tian should drink. My glass is now upside down, and if any one attempts to turn it, he does it at his peril." He was a large strong man, and said this with clenched fist. His glass remained in its reversed position, and he the only sober man present. There never was a sterner man in what he conscientiously believed to be principle, or a more energetic, fearless and disinterested one in what he conscientiously believed to be duty. "Another anecdote — On a Christmas morning, when he was about eighty years of age, being still in the discharge of parochial duty, while he was at breakfast with his family, a package was brought to him, accompanied with a short poetical note in a female hand. The following were the lines : — 'Affection's gifts are rare; " May this one not intrude ! " It shows for all your pastoral care, " The fair ones' gratitude." The package was found to contain a new suit of clerical robes, sent to him as a Christmas present, by ladies of his congregation. He immediately set aside his coffee, called for pen, ink, and paper, and replied in the fol- lowing lines : — " In all your trials and your cares, " Expect your faithful pastor's prayers; "And for these holy robes to dress in, "Accept your pastor's thanks and blessing." " It was once my happiness to be closeted with him in his study for some two or three hours. The occasion made a deep and lasting impression on my mind by the proof his conversation afforded of his rich and varied knowledge and intellectual ability. Literature, Science, History, religious and moral disquisition, from the highest and remotest elements of principle to the minutest details of spiritual and moral duty, were familiar to him, and were so treated as at once to interest and charm those who listened." With great esteem, Rev. and dear Sir, 'Your obedient servant, GOUYERNEUR MORRIS WILKINS. NATHANIEL BOWEN. 471 RT. REV. NATHANIEL BOWEN, D. D * 1800—1839. Nathaniel Bowen was born in Boston, June 29, 1779. His father was the Rev. Penuel Bowen, who was first settled as a Congregational minister in Boston, but afterwards joined the Episcopal Church, and in the year 1787, removed to South Carolina, and died almost immediately after his arrival there. After the death of the father, the son was taken under the care of the Eev. Robert Smith, afterwards Bishop of the Diocese of South Carolina ; and his education was conducted chiefly under his auspices. He was admitted to the degree of Bachelor of Arts in Charleston College, October 17, 1794, being then only fifteen years and four months old, — it being the only occasion, while Bishop Smith was Principal, on which degrees were conferred. Such were his attainments, and such the maturity of his character, that, notwithstanding his extreme youth, he was appointed, soon after his graduation, a Tutor in the institution, and continued to serve in that capacity for some time. His theological studies were prosecuted at the North, chiefly under the direction of the Rev. Dr. Parker, Rector of Trinity Church, and after- wards Bishop of the Eastern Diocese ; and by Letters Dimissory from the Bishop of South Carolina, he was admitted to Deacon's Orders at Bos- ton, on the 3d of June, 1800, and to Priest's Orders at Newburyport, in October, 1802, by the Rt. Rev. Dr. Bass, first Bishop of Massachusetts Being on a visit to his friends in Charleston, in January, 1801, he accepted an invitation from the Commissioners of the Orphan House, to become its Chaplain, and remained there about six months. He then returned to the North, and in October of the same year, became Rector of St. John's Church, in Providence, R. I. In March, 1802, he resigned this charge, and accepted an invitation to become Assistant Minister at St. Michael's Church, Charleston ; and in December, 1804, he succeeded to the Rector- ship of the same church, — Dr. Jenkins, who had preceded him, having then just tendered his resignation. In 1804, the Diocese of South Carolina was reduced well nigh to its original elements. There was no Bishop, no Standing Committee, and there had been no Convention held for five years. Mr. Bowen, notwithstanding he was the youngest minister in the Diocese, had a principal agency in effect- ing its re-organization. A Convention of the churches was held in February, 1804 ; rules for its governance, chiefly prepared by him, were adopted, and be was elected Secretary of the Convention and of the Standing Commit- tee. Provision being thus made for the stability of the Diocese, he set himself to a course of laborious effort for its increase ; — and by holding services in vacant parishes, and co-operating with men of influence and standing, in repairing and building churches or rectories, he was instru- mental of reviving several old congregations. And not only did he thus perform the work of a missionary, as far as his duties in the city permitted * Gadsden's Fun. Serm.— Updike's Hist. Narrag. Ch.— Evergreen, VII.— Daloho's Hist. Ch. 6. C— Blake's Biog. Diet.— MS. from Mrs. Bowen. 472 EPISCOPALIAN. but he exerted himself to the utmost to induce young men, whom he con- sidered as possessing the requisite qualifications, to enter the ministry ; and he rendered them important assistance in various ways, in their prepa- ration for the sacred oflSce. He received, at different periods, invitations to no less than eight highly respectable churches, some of which he might have accepted at a great pecuniary advantage, but he declined them all from a conviction that he could not abandon the position in which Provi- dence had placed him, but at some expense of usefulness. At length, however, his labours became so oppressive, — being obliged to unite the Teacher with the Pastor and the Missionary, in order to make out for him- self an adequate support,— he came to the conclusion that justice to himself and his family demanded that he should think of some other sphere of labour ; and as the Kectorate of Grace Church, New York, was now offered to him, he accepted it, and held it, discharging its duties with exemplary fidelity, from 1809 to 1818. In 1814, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the University of Pennsylvania ; and a few months after received the same honour from the College of South Carolina. Early in 1818, he accepted the Kectorate of St. Michael's, Charleston, and the Episcopate of the Diocese of South Carolina ; to both which responsible stations he was unanimously called. The following extract from his register reveals the spirit with which he entered upon his oflBce as Bishop : " On tliis day, (October 8th, 1818,) I was solemnly consecrated at Philadelphia to the ofEce of a Bishop in the Protestant Episcopal Church, Dr. "White presiding, and Dr. Hobart, Dr. Croes, and Dr. Kemp assisting. There was nothing in the office or its administration that seemed calculated to give deeper solemnity than already existed, to the feelings and impressions with which I approached it. I was penetrated, I tnist, with my unworthiness ; and the constant prayer which my heart was dictating, was, — Lord, in mercy let not the unworthiness of the instrument selected, be visited on thy Church in which he is appointed to minister. The pride of distinction, so ordina- rily supposed to attach to this elevation in the Church, I certainly did not feel. It seems not to have demanded an effort to prevent such a feeling from predominating in my mind. The dread of the effects of the insufficiency which I felt for so great a responsibility has prevailed over worse and less becoming feelings. Whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant. Humility, as the indispensable requisite of elevated station in the ministry, could not be more forcibly ineuleated. Yet I have been supposed not to have it. God forbid I should not have." Bishop Bowen, though scarcely ever enjoying what might be called vigor- ous health, and not unfrequently suffering turns of severe illness, was most untiring in the discharge of his various official duties, and commended him- self, both by his ability and his fidelity, to the grateful and affectionate respect of the ministers and churches under his care. In 1831, he made a visit to England, which, while it served the purposes of relaxation, of grati- fying his curiosity, and opening to him many new sources of enjoyment, he was enabled, in various ways, to turn to good account in promoting the interests of the Church with which he was connected. Some of his letters, written during this period, appeared in the Charleston Gospel Messenger, (a publication which he had much to do in originating,) and wore read exten- sively, and with great interest. After his last illness had come upon him, and when a change of climate was considered as the most promising means that could be used for his restoration, he contrived to render even this sub- servient to the interests of his Diocese ; for he made it the occasion of NATHANIEL BOWEN. 473 visitmg those parts of it which in summer were considered the more health- ful, and also of ordaining a young minister, who, for his own convenience and the satisfaction of his relatives, was desirous of being ordained in one of the remoter districts. ^ Bishop Bowen died at Charleston on the 25th of August, 1839, in the sixty-first year of his age. The following extract of a letter containing an account of his last hours, from one of his parishioners, — a gentleman of high standing, has kindly heen furnished me by a friend : — Charleston, Sunday Night, } 25th August, 1839. J " My dear C : I wrote to you on Friday last, and then expressed, in reference to our venerable and valued Bishop, my apprehension as to the result of his illness. On that very night an unfavourable change took place ; since which, I am sorry to say, he has been gradually but constantly sinking. The close of his earthly existence has been looked for every hour for the last two days. Yet he is still alive. He is occasionally conscious of what is passing about him, and attempts to speak, but cannot articu- late with sufficient distinctness to be understood. His Clergy have prayed at his bedside several times, and both yesterday and to-day, at the com- mencement, when his attention was roused, he was evidently conscious of the nature of the exercise, from his effort by some change of position, as it were, to prepare himself for it. But it is at least doubtful if the con- sciousness continued throughout. He seems to recognise persons about him, but not by seeing them ; for his sight is thought to have failed him, from the appearance of his eyes. The probability is that, before morn- ing, the earthly Head of our Church will have gone to his rest. You may well conceive that, under such circumstances, the services of our church to-day must have been peculiarly solemn and impressive. And such they were indeed. The Psalms and special Prayers were appropriate, and the Sermon was dispensed with. After the service at the altar, Mr. Spear made a very short address, (of perhaps three or four minutes,) the substance of which (for I cannot pretend to give his words) was that, on account of the peculiarly solemn circumstances under which we were assembled, the services would be closed without a sermon — not from any sense of physi- cal debility on his part (from his late indisposition) to perform the custom- ary duties of the day, but because no ordinary subject could be expected to occupy our attention profitably ; and because the circumstances them- selves were a more impressive sermon than human lips could utter. But with respect to his own feelings he would apply to himself the language of Elisha, when informed that ' the Lord would take away his Master, Elijah, from his head that day,' and say, ' Hold your peace.' He then exhorted us, on returning to our homes, to improve the occasion of private prayer and serious reflection ; and, after a prayer for our departing Head, from the Visitation of the Sick, he dismissed us with the usual blessing. I will close my letter to-morrow. " Monday Afteknoon, 26th August. "You of course anticipate, my dear C., the painful intelligence I am now to communicate. Our pastor and friend breathed his last about half- VoL. V 60 474 EPISCOPALIAN. after nine last evening, so that the mournful event had occurred when I was writing you. You know how highly I valued him both as a Divine and as a Christian ; and I am sure we must concur in a sense of the great bereave- ment which our own church and the Church at large sustains in the death of one who filled such relations, and who brought to the duties connected with them a theology so sound, a piety so practical, a knowledge of human nature so profound, a mind so stored with various knowledge, and a charac- ter so elevated as were exhibited in the individual, to whom the last tribute of respect only now remains to be paid. The funeral ceremonies take place to-morrow at St. Michael's. The body is to be placed in the chancel by the side of Dr. Dehon's. Mr. Spear is to officiate'; and, at his suggestion, Dr. Gradsden has been appointed by the Vestry to preach a Funeral Dis- course." The following are Bishop Bowen's publications : — A Sermon preached before the Bible and Common Prayer Book Society, New York, 1812. Pastoral Advice, 1831. Christian Consolation : Six Sermons, 1831. Duty of being Confirmed, 1831. On Responding aloud, 1833. Fast Day Cir- cular, with a Prayer, 1833. Lay Ministrations, 1833. Persuasion, 1833. Pastoral Letter on Missions, 1835. An Address to the Students of the General Theological Seminary, 1836. A Discourse occasioned by the Death of the Rt. Rev. William White, D. D., delivered in St. Michael's Church, Charleston, 1836. After Bishop Bowen's death, a selection from his manuscript Sermons was published in two volumes, octavo. Bishop Bowen was married in 1805, to Margaret, daughter of John Blake, Esq., a highly esteemed citizen of Charleston, whose wife was a Miss Mercier, of Huguenot descent. They had ten children, of whom four only survived him. He had but one son who attained an age to enter Col- lege, and he, — a young man of great promise, — died shortly after becoming a member of the College in Charleston. His widow and three married daughters still (1858) survive. FROM THE REV. WILLIAM JENKS, D. D. Boston, January 14, 1856. My dear Sir: My acquaintance with Bishop Bowen was quite intimate, but it was short, and confined to his early manhood. I had become lay reader to the Episcopal Church at Cambridge, only a month beyond the age of nineteen. At about twenty-one, I married and began to keep house. Pupils were received into my family; and I was private tutor to the family of Governor Gerry. Thus situated and employed as I was, Mr. Bowen presented himself to me, for the first time, as a relative of an acquaintance of mine in Boston. His object was to study Divinity with me. Doubtless I had been overrated by his too partial kinsman, or the application would not have been made. However, he continued with me, as a member of my family, and a theological student, for several months, and then, another arrangement having been made, he left Cambridge. Busied, as I necessarily was, I could not, and did not, follow his movements. And, near the close of 1805, I removed to a set- tlement in Bath, Me., where I resided for twelve years. While he was with me, his whole conduct was irreproachable, gentlemanly and amiable. His genius, I think, was not of the striking, imposing character. NATHANIEL BOWEN. 475 which ensured great popularity; hut he appeared to possess integrity, and sin- cerity of devotion to sacred study and to the sacred office, and our conversations were confidential, serious and religiously interesting. He exhibited indeed the radical features of the character he bore in subsequent years — industry, prudence, caution, foresight, and conscientiousness. I do not recollect his having had the peculiarity of stammering, which I have seen it stated he had been able to overcome in the delivery of his discourses by closing, as far as practicable, his teeth, and speaking very deliberately. In this habit of speaking, that is, very deliberately, he was like Dr.Dehon, my predecessor at Cambridge, and his predecessor at Charleston. His stature was of the middle size, and when I knew him he was in good flesh and muscular; but he afterwards, and mostly through the latter moiety of his ministry, suffered much from dys- pepsia, and became more slender. Mr. Bowen, as you are aware, was settled successively in Providence and in New York, and in both cases, as I have been assured, was greatly beloved and confided in by those who were under his pastoral care. His dignified appear- ance in the pulpit, and his staid, serious, deliberate utterance made some accuse him of hauteur; and he was habitually reserved, especially with strangers — a demeanour which I could easily have anticipated; — " but," said the lady who gave me knowledge of this trait, " those with whom he cultivated acquaintance, as, for instance, intelligent parishioners, found him familiar, kind, affectionate, interesting himself in all their concernments." I may add that the uniform testimony, so far as I have heard it, has been, that, after he was advanced to the Episcopate in the Diocese of South Carolina, he maintained the same dignified deportment and blameless character, which he uniformly exhibited in the stations he had previously filled. With Christian regard, I am. My dear Sir, very sincerely yours, WILLIAM JENKS. FROM THE REV. SAMUEL GILMAN, D. D. Chakleston, January 17, 1858 Rev. and dear Sir: On my relinquishing, in 1819, a Tutorship of two years in Harvard College, and coming to reside in Charleston, through the recommenda- tion and good offices of President Kirkland, among other letters of introduction, I brought one from tliat gentleman to the late Bishop Bowen. They had con- tracted a, mutual intimacy in Boston, at some period of their lives. Bishop Bowen received me with especial kindness and urbanity, remarking to me that the young men who came to him from Cambridge hardly needed to bring letters of introduction, for they all seemed unconsciously to have caught something in their manner from his favourite old friend Kirkland, whx) he did not wonder was the object of their almost idolatrous imitation. At a dinner party of gentlemen to which he soon invited me at his house, I well remember the salutary impres- sion made by one circumstance on my mind. Although it was several years in advance of the strict Temperance movement, yet I observed that while the Bishop, according to the then prevailing laws of hospitality, was attentive in proffering and passing the wine, yet he only half filled his own glass, and left it about untouched throughout the entertainment. This affected me as deeply as any temperance lecture could have done; for I felt irresistibly the practical, though silent, power of the example, at a time when a young man could at least" indulge in three or four glasses without the charge of impropriety. I saw the quiet violation of the custom by one in an imposing position, who might also have pleaded his age in excuse for indulging; and this indirect revelation of the danger never faded from my recollection. 476 EPISCOPALIAN. Until the Bishop's decease, ve continued the interchange of friendly visits, especially after he had removed into my neighbourhood in one of the suburbs, where he built a neat but becoming mansion, surrounded by a large umbrageous garden. Here he lived in a sort of ecclesiastical elegance and retirement, although visiting the city every day on errands of duty. In fact, there was something in his whole manner, which seemed to fulfil the best idea one can form of a Dignitary of the Episcopal Church. A refined simplicity, a modest reserve, mingling with occasional communicativeness and pleasantry, and the tone of a well-bred gentleman, invariably marked his intercourse with others. As he stood in his chancel on occasion of some high festival in his Church, with liis form planted motionless near the wall, and arrayed in his Episcopal robes, the silence and solemnity of the scene, interrupted only by the liquid notes of the organ, suggested to the spectator that there could be no more imposing representation of a genuine Anglican Bishop. Yet he loved society, and never appeared more happy than in contributing to the pleasure of guests at an eve- ning party in his house. One day, as he sat in my study, on a social call, after having performed some extra public service, while asking me various questions involving old scenes and reminiscences of New England, he inquired whether my denomination celebrated many prayer-days and saints'-days. On my replying in the negative, he exclaimed, with a jocose smile, "Enviable.exemption!" — an utterance which I understood only as a pleasantry, implying how much severer was his course of duty than mine; as if he had said, — "Oh, you indolent man " — for no one was ever more punctilious in performing the whole of his required routine, or attached greater importance to the faithful observance of every religious ceremonial. Having observed that he was very frequently called upon to celebrate the mar riage service, I asked him one day whether he had not laid up a pretty little fund from his numerous honorariums. The Bishop, who had a large and grow- ing family to educate, and who lived in a style of ease and generosity, replied, — "Laid up.' Oh no! It all goes over the dam together!" On one occasion I had the pleasure of observing how much a little firmness and perseverance in resisting a long established exceptionable custom might con- tribute to its extermination. It was common at funerals to decorate many of the friends who were present, especially the attending ministers, with scarfs, gloves, and bands, at the expense of the mourning family. Ministers of differ- ent denominations were frequently invited to be present, and the funeral accou- trements would sometimes amount to no trifling perquisite. At a funeral where I happened to meet the Bishop, I saw him, for a long time, use every method in his power to prevent an attendant from arraying him in the sombre garb. He said that he had resolved, with several other clergymen, to decline any longer countenancing the practice; and it was not until the man in waiting protracted his importunity so far as to encroach on the solemnity of the scene, and appealed to the Bishop's regard for the feelings of the family, that he yielded for that time. But the attention which the affair attracted, and the sort of publicity which it gave to the Bishop's intentions for reform, aided by a memorial which, if I remember aright, he circulated for signatures among all the clergymen in the city, produced an immediate and remarkable change of the custom in question, which, at the present day, is scarcely ever, if at all, observed in Charleston. Bishop Bo wen possessed in a large degree this quality of firmness of will, with- out which no person is able to make his mark in the world. My venerable friend Dr Johnson, who was also intimate with the Bishop, has lately commu- nicated to me the following characteristic anecdote, demonstrating that the firm- ness alluded to was justified by an equal sagacity. A person residing in his Diocese had, for some time, been preparing for admission into Holy Orders, NATHANIEL BOWEN. 477 under the auspices of the Bishop himself. At length, a difficulty on some sub- ject or other occurred between them, which proceeded so far that the Bishop refused to the student the privilege to which he aspired. Some of the friends of both parties regretted this result, and two of them,— the late distinguished Thomas S. Grimke and Dr. Johnson went together to intercede with the Bishop, hoping that thej' might prevail upon him to relax from his stern decision. Neither the importunity of friendship, nor the high stand which the intercessors held in the community could induce him to recede from his position, since he protested a conscio^us persuasion that the object of their mediation would ulti- mately prove unworthy of the sacred profession. The event but too well cor- responded with his conviction; and the gentlemen who had attempted to alter it became in a few years perfectly aware that it was correct. I have thus given you my general impressions of Bishop Bowen, received from a somewhat intimate acquaintance with him of several years. Of his character as a preacher, and of his earnest devotion to all the interests of his Church, there are many surviving witnesses, of his own Communion, whose testimony would be worth much more than mine; but T can truly say that in all the rela- tions in which I had an opportunity of observing him, not excepting the ecclesias- tical, I saw much to awaken not only my respect but admiration. I am, my dear Sir, Faithfully yours, SAMUEL OILMAN. FREDERICK BEASLEY, D. D * 1801—1845. Frederick Beaslet, a son of John and Mary (Blount) Beasley, was born in the year 1777, near Edenton, N. C, where his father, who was a respectable planter, resided. He spent his early years at home, and at school, until he came to the North for a collegiate education. He entered the College of New Jersey in 1793, where he proved himself a vigorous and successful student, and graduated with high honour in 1797. From 1798 to 1800, he was a Tutor in his Alma Mater, and at the same time was prosecuting the study of Theology, under the Rev. Dr. Samuel Stan- hope Smith, then President of the College, for whom he ever entertained the most profound veneration. During his connection with the College, he contracted an intimate friendship with John Henry Hobart, and Henry Kollock, two great lights of their respective denominations, which was ter- minated only by death. In the spring of 1800, Mr. Beasley was invited by Christ Church, New Brunswick, to read prayers until a Rector could be provided ; and he ofiSciated in this way until November following. He was ordained Deacon by Bishop Moore of New York, in the summer of 1801, and Priest by the same Prelate, in 1802. Almost immediately after his ordination as Dea- con, he received overtures in respect to a settlement from one of the • Moore's Fun. Serm. — Clark's Hist. St. John's Ch. — Sharswood's Address before the Society of tlie Alumni of the University of Pennsylvania.— MSS. from the Rev. F. W. Beas- ley and Chancellor Williamson. 478 EPISOOPALIATSr. Churclies in New York ; but he preferred to commence his ministry in some more retired situation. In September of the same year, he was invited to the Rectorship of St. John's Church, Elizabethtown, N. J., on a salary of two hundred and fifty pounds a year. He accepted the call, but on account of being obliged to visit his native State, he was not regularly instituted Pastor of the Church until the early part of the next year. His ministry at Elizabethtown, though every way acceptable, was brief, as he resigned his charge on the 5th of June, 1803, with a view to become Rector of St. Peter's Church, Albany. Here, in July ft)llowing, he com- menced his labours, and remained, greatly esteemed and beloved by his people, until August, 1809, when he again tendered the resignation of his charge, having accepted a call from St. Paul's Church in Baltimore, Md. He preached his Inaugural Discourse to this congregation on the 31st of December, 1809 ; and it was so well received that the Vestry requested a copy of it for publication. In it he avows his determination to know nothing among his people save Jesus Christ and Him crucified ; and in sum- ming up this head of his discourse, he says, — " Avoiding the wild excesses of enthusiasm on the one hand, and cold indifference on the other, I shall essay to preach the Gospel in its genuine purity and simplicity — the fall of man and deep depravity of our nature ; the consequence of that fall ; his restoration by Jesus Christ, who, in infi- nite and unmerited mercy, offered Himself a sacrifice for our sins ; the indispensable necessity of the quickening influences of the Holy Grhost to renew our corrupt nature, and render it acceptable in the sight of God ; the awful and trejnendous punishment which awaits the impenitent and guilty in a future state, and that glorious recompense laid up in store for the righteous, not indeed as the reward of their own merits, but of the precious merits of a dying Saviour — in a word, all those sacred and import- ant truths, which Christ and his disciples laboured to promulge." In this parish he was the Associate Rector with Dr. Bend. There were two churches in the city, in ofiiciating in which the two Rectors alternated : each officiated in the morning in one, and in the afternoon in the other. Mr. Beasley, though much the junior of his associate, well sustained him- self in the connection, as he also did with his successor, the Rev. Dr. Kemp, by whom Dr. Bend was succeeded, on his death, in 1812. But his health was delicate, and he felt that he had not the physical ability to discharge, as he would, all the duties which were devolved upon him ; and hence he was the more willing to resign his pastoral charge for a position which he supposed would require a less amount of effort. Accordingly, in July, 1813, he resigned St. Paul's, and accepted the office of Provost of the University of Pennsylvania, at Philadelphia, whither he removed shortly after. This was a plact peculiarly congenial with his intellectual tastes and habits, and he discharged its duties with acknowledged ability and fidelity about fifteen years. Though he was now withdrawn from the peculiar duties of a parish minister, he often preached in the different churches in the city, and was always ready to assist his brethren, when they had occasion for his services. He was annually elected a member of the Standing Committee of the Diocese, during his residence in Philadelphia, and in that capacity was largely instrumental in elevating FREDERICK BEASLET. 479 the standard of literary and theological attainment among candidates for the ministry. He was in intimate relations with the venerable Bishop White, and shared, in a high degree, both his confidence and his affection. In 1815, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity, both from Columbia College, and from the University of Pennsylvania. Dr. Beasley resigned his Provostship in 1828, and shortly after was invited to settle at Louisville, Ky. ; and though he did not accept the invi- tation, he made a journey thither, and was absent two or three months. On his return, he resided a few months in Philadelphia, and then (in 1829) became Rector of St. Michael's Church, Trenton, N. J., where he remained till June, 1836. As his constitution had now become too much impaired to undergo the labour of a stated charge, he gave up his parish, and removed to Elizabcthtown, where he spent the remainder of his days. He preached occasionally during his latter years, and, at one time, in the absence of the Rev. Mr. Moore, the Rector of St. John's Church, he supplied his place, with great acceptance, for about six months. Most of his time now was devoted to literary and theological pursuits. Dr. Beasley finally became a victim to dropsy in the chest. For several months previous to his death, his malady had incapacitated him in a great degree for continuous mental labour ; though he was able to see his friends, and to converse with freedom and energy almost to the last. As he approached the closing scene, he said that he could have wished to live a little longer, if it had heen God's will, to have carried out some long cher- ished purposes ; but, as it was otherwise, he quietly submitted to the Divine allotment ; and he endeavoured to stay the current of domestic grief by pointing to the great Fountain of consolation. Though his disease had, for some weeks, been rapidly tending towards a fatal issue, he died at last without any immediate warning, on Saturday, the 1st of November, 1845. His Funeral was attended at St. John's Church, on the Tuesday following, and an appropriate Discourse delivered by the Rector, the Rev. Richard Channing Moore. On the 22d of August, 1803, he was married to Susan W., daughter of General Jonathan Dayton, of Elizabcthtown, — who became the mother of one child, — a daughter, and died on the 27th of November, 1804. On the 29th of June, 1807, he was married, a second time, to Maria, daughter of Matthias Williamson. By this marriage there were nine children, seven of whom reached maturity. One of the sons, Frederick W., was gradua- ted at the University of Pennsylvania in 1827 ; studied Theology at the General Theological Seminary, New York, and is now (1857) a settled clergyman in Bucks County, Pa. Another of his sons became a lawyer, and settled in Trenton, N. J. His second wife survived him several years, and died on the 2d of July, 1852. TIic following is a list of Dr. Beasley's publications : — A Discourse before the Ladies' Society, instituted for the Relief of Distressed Seamen in the city of Albany, 1808. Inaugural Sermon in St. Paul's Church, Baltimore, 1810. A Sermon on Duelling, 1811. An Anonymous Pam- phlet entitled " Serious Reflections addressed to Episcopalians in Mary- land, on the State of their Church generally, but more particularly on the Pending Election of a Suffragan Bishop," 1813. A Sermon before the 480 episcopaliajst. Diocesan Convention of Pennsylvania, 1815. American Dialogues of the Dead, 1815. A (second) Sermon on Duelling, 1822. A Search of Truth in the Science of the Human Mind; Part I., one vol. 8 vo., 1822. [He left in MS. Part II., complete.] A Vindication of the Argument a 'priori in proof of the Being and Attributes of God, from the Objections of Dr. Water- land, 1825. Eeview of Brown's Philosophy of the Human Mind, 1825. A Vindication of the Fundamental Principles of Truth and Order in the Church of Christ, from the Allegations of the Rev. William E. Channing, D. D., 1830. An Examination of No. 90 of the Tracts for the Times, 1842. Dr. Beasley edited the two volumes of Dr. Samuel Stanhope Smith's posthumous Sermons, and wrote the Memoir of his Life prefixed to the first volume. He also contributed largely to the periodical literature of his day. FROM CHARLES KING, L.L.D., FBESIDENT OF COLTIMBIA COLLEGE. CoLnMBiA CoLLEQE, New York, ) May 9, 1854. ) My dear Sir: In compliance with your request, I will proceed to record some reminiscences, or rather casual impressions formed in occasional intercourse, of the late Rev. Dr. Beasley, in whose neighbourhood in the country I lived for several years immediately preceding his death. In the year 1838, I moved from this city, with my family, to Elizabethtown, N. J., which was then the residence of Dr. Beasley. Living not far apart from each other, attending the same church, and having in common some literary tastes and pursuits, we soon became acquainted. I had known Dr. Beasley by reputation, both when .settled as a clergyman at Albany, and when Provost of the College of Pennsylvania, at Philadelphia; but I had not any personal acquaintance with him. He was then an elderly man, of slight constitution, yet rarel}' an invalid, and living much in the open air. His house was prettily situated on the outskirts of the town, away from the thickly settled parts, on the high ground South of the little river which runs through the old borough, and overlooking the whole village. His house large, old-fashioned, with a piazza front and rear, was embo- somed in fine old trees, and had a large garden attached to it, in which he took much delight. His wife and several daughters constituted the household; his sons having already left the paternal roof to make their own way in the world. Dr. Beasley, at this time, had no stated employment. Occasionally, in the absence of the Rector, the Rev. Richard Channing Moore, the Doctor would sup- ply his place in the old church of St. John's, one of the oldest in the State. As a preacher, he was rather ingenious than strong, and, in the indulgence of a taste for' metaphysical subtleties, was apt to be diffuse; but there was always the staple of thought and knowledge in his sermons. His appearance, moreover, was attractive — a fine intelligent face; a well-formed forehead, thinly overlaid with a fciv scattering white hairs; u, slightly stooping frame; a gentle voice and simple manners, predisposed all hearers in his favour. His acquirements in literature were very considerable, and in these pursuits, indeed, was his chief delight, not to say occupation. His temper was eminently' hopeful and cheerful, and, though living in retirement, and without any oiBcial connection with the world around, he yet kept his sympathies alive, and his interest fresh and earnest, in passing events, as well political as in the graver interests of morals, religion, and learning. In politics indeed, he was a most FEEDEKICK BEASLET. 481 amiable optimist. With a warm and intelligent love of country, he always could find a bright side to what others regarded more gloomily, and always hoped for the best. In Church matters, perhaps he did not quite maintain thilt equani- mity, and suffered himself to be disturbed occasionally by the polemics stirred up on the publication of the Oxford Tracts; but it was not in his nature to dwell upon the disagreeable, and he always found consolation in hopes and plans of improved literary and educational enterprises. One of these plans often discussed between us was the establishment of a New York Quarterl}' Review; and he could never be made to doubt that complete suc- cess, and great public benefit, would result from such an enterprise, nor that ample stores of scholarship, of practical writing, and accurate and comprehen- sive information, could be easily enlisted in its support. His own taste and habits of thought and investigation lay in that direction, and to the last, I believe, he continued to hope for a connection with such a worli. One of' his great motives for urging it was that, if properly conducted and sus- tained, such a Review would tend to Americanize us more thoroughly, by eman- cipating us from the too exclusive dependance on foreign criticism, and habitua- ting our people to form and abide by a standard of their own, in judging alike the productions of our own and of foreign writers and artists. lie was, indeed, in all senses, a thorough believer in the humanizing, refining and invigorating influence of general and enlarged education. In his personal intercourse there was a suavity and simplicity that was very attractive; and, although his life had not been free from disappointments, he was hopeful to the last as though he had never known any, and closed a long career, still hoping and still planning for the welfare of others. I have, as you will perceive, given you only impressions of character. If of any avail to elucidate or illustrate your memoir of a good man, I shall be well satisfied. Yours very truly, CHARLES KING. FROM THE REV. NICHOLAS MURRAY, D. D. Elizabeth, N. J., January 20, 1858. My dear Sir: You ask me for some reminiscences concerning my old friend and neighbour, the Rev. Dr. Beasley. Although I had been familiar with his name, and with some of his writings,, and had seen him preside at some of the Commencements of the University of Pennsylvania. I had no acquaintance with him until his removal to this place, a. few years before his death. As, upon many subjects of public and religious interest, we had views and feelings in common, what was at first but a general: acquaintance ripened into an intimacy, which continued until his death. Those who knew him through his long, varied and cheerful life, if any such survive,, might give 3'ou a much more complete idea of his character than I can: I mn&t. be contented to speak of him as he was after his sun had far declined in the West, and when the evening of life was casting its dark shadows around him. Dr. Beasley was a man of slight frame, was below the ordinary height, and was easy and rapid in his movements. Age seemed to produce no efiect upon his lio-ht and agile step. He was the last of the powdered heads in our community. To this fashion of the gentlemen of the old school he clung with tenacity; and had he retained all the others, — a cocked hat, breeches buttoned at the knees,, and shoes with silver buckles, he would have been a very complete specimen of the gentleman antique. His eyes were blue and lively; his forehead was high and thoughtful; his chin rather projecting than receding; and his whole counte- nance wore a kindly and benignant aspect. He was remarkably socials and frank. Vol.. r. 61 4g2 EPISCOPALIAN. in all his intercourse. He was, on the whole, as bland, pleasant and poUte a gentleman, for his age, as any I have known. Dr. Beaslej was a scholar of considerable Classical attainments; but the line of his studies lay mainly in the direction of Mental Philosophy. No educated man could be long in his company without being made fully aware of this. He had no relish for the Scotch Philosophers, while he worshipped with profound adoration at the shrine of John Locke. He was very thoroughly read in botli Mental and Moral Philosophy, and I have understood that he left behind a Treatise in manuscript on each of these subjects. He was also well acquainted with the writings of the Fathers of the Episcopal Church, and could quote their opinions with great readiness upon any given topic. He was a decided Episcopa- lian, regarding the Episcopal as the best, though by no means the onLy, form of the Church. His views on this subject were substantially those of Arch- bishop Whately. I never heard him preach but once, and that was years after he had retired from the ministry, and from public life. His sermon was terse, well written and cogent as to its reasoning, but his manner, at that time, was somewhat embar- rassed, and could hardly be considered impressive. But as he was old and out of the harness, no idea could be gained from the performance, as to his power as a preacher, when in the vigour of his years. As a scholar, he always took a high rank; and he must have done so in early life as a preacher, considering the important positions he was called to occupy. Dr. Beasley was regarded by all who knew him as one of the most amiable of men. He was childlike and unsuspecting to a remarkable degree. He was an Israelite indeed, who knew no guile. Although, on many subjects, he and I held opposite opinions, we never differed but in perfect kindness. I respected and loved him as a friend; and when he died, I mourned for him as a father. But few men of greater purity or simplicity have I known, connected with any branch of the Church of Christ. With fraternal regard, yours, N. MtTRRAT. FROM GEORGE B. WOOD, M. D., PEOFESSOR IN THE UNIVERSITY OV PENNSYLVANIA. Philadelphia, February 15, 1858. My dear Sir : My first acquaintance with the Rev. Dr. Beasley was on the occasion of his entering upon the duties of Professor of Moral Philosophy, in the University of Pennsylvania, and of Provost of that institution, to which he had been chosen by its Trustees. I think I was then one of the Junior class. He very soon evinced an interest in me, which attracted my affectionate regard. I became a frequent visitor in his family; and not only during the remainder of my Collegiate course, but for a long time afterwards, until, indeed, his removal from Philadelphia, continued on terms of intimacy with him, and thus had ample opportunities of forming an estimate of his character. One of his most characteristic mental traits was a strong conscientiousness, which never permitted bira, from considerations of prudence or policy, or from any other cause, to deviate from what he thought right in conduct or opinion. When he had made up his own mind as to his duty in any conjuncture, or as to the truth in any question of science, morals, or religion, I never knew him to be withheld, by apprehension of the consequences, from acting in accordance with the former, or freely expressing his convictions in relation to the latter. He was eminently both an honest and morally courageous man. He had, too, a remarkable simplicity of character, which caused him to judge of others through himself, and seemed to render the conception of duplicity or FEEDERICK BEASLEY. 4g3 fiilse profession in those with whom he had intercourse, impossible, until after repeated experience had taught him otherwise. This quality of mind, while it rendered compliance with his convictions of duty and truth more easy, as it con- cealed from him in some degree the unpleasant consequences which might result, laid him open to imposition, and exposed him occasionally to some inconve- nience, especially in tlie management of the young people under his care, who tioinotimes took a mischievous or malicious pleasure in misleading him. He was naturally indignant, when undeceived; but it was never diflBcult, by fair profes- .^ions, to regain his good opinion, or at least his good will; as his own sense of truth made.him uncomfortable when he saw the principle violated in others, and he was glad to seek refuge in truthfulness once more. His love of truth was evinced in abstract inquiry, as well as in the affairs of life. Convinced from a close examination of the works of some distinguished metaphysicians, that they had misinterpreted the writings of Locke, and based false theories on this misinterpretation, he stoutly maintained the cause of that eminent philosopher, and both in conversation, and professional teaching, as well as in his writings, defended him against the imputations of unsoundness, to which the supposed tendeno}' of his theories had given rise. His views upon this point may be seen in his metaphysical work called "A Search of Truth." His feelings as well as convictions were engaged, and he could scarcely have evinced greater warmth and zeal in the defence of Locke, had he been among his living and intimate friends. Dr. Beasley had warm and persistent feelings of attachment; and, when he had once formed a friendship, based upon esteem and the reciprocation of kindly offices, whether the object was present or absent, living or dead, held fast to the preference. Nor was it with him a mere sentiment. It was, on the contrary, an ever active principle, which caused him not to be content without impressing on others the same convictions, the same respect and admiration which he him- self entertained for the object. It seemed as if he deemed it a debt due to friend- ship to set forth the merits of the one preferred; and, as he was never backward in seizing upon proper occasions for such demonstrations, he made them also with a warmth and earnestness, which, if they did not enlist corresponding feelings on the part of his hearers, at least did not fail to convince them of his own sin- cerity and zeal. He even carried this disposition of mind back with him into the historical past, and there selected friends as well as among his contemporaries, upon whom to lavish his good opinion and his praise. It was probably this ten- dency of feeling, in addition to his love of truth, which gave warmth to his advo- cacy of the great English philosopher. There was nothing stern or austere in Dr. Beasley's character. Though firm and uncompromising in the support of what he thought right, he was yet mild, benevolent, and amiable in his feelings and general deportment; seldom even excited unless under a sense of personal wrong or injustice; in which case he was sometimes warm and decided in the expression of his feelings and convictions. In reference to his intellectual endowments, I have little to say. They will be measured rather by his works than by any testimony I could give from recol- lection. I would observe, however, that they were naturally by no means of an humble character, and were greatly improved by cultivation. Dr. Beasley was always a diligent student. Even after he had taken charge of the University, he spent a large portion of his time in study, searching the writings of the ancients, as well as of the more prominent modern philosophical and metaphysical authors, and endeavouring to elaborate a system for himself out of their teachings and his own reflections. This devotion to study probably somewhat impaired the facility of estimating character and motive in others, which is called knowledge of the world; and, though he believed that he understood mankind, his was rather a theoretical 484 EPISCOPALIAN. knowledge derived from books and the study of himself, than that more practi- cal knowledge which in general comes only from much intercourse with men, and from personally mingling in their affairs. He cultivated the art of composition with much care, and was himself an elegant writer, preferring simplicity, plainness and precision as characters of style, and even in this respect showing his regard for truth. He was also a good speaker, and, before entering on his professorial career, had acquired much repu- tation in the pulpit. To sum up his character, as it has remained impressed upon my memory, he was sincere, earnest, upright, disposed to be trustful, firm in all points of con- Science or of right, warm in his attachments, indignant under a sense of injury though not unforgiving, of an excellent heart, genial manners, and a highly cul- tivated intellect. There are few among those with whom I have been associated, during the course of a life now somewhat advanced, upon whom I look back with more kindly feelings or higher esteem. Very respectfully yours, GEO. B. WOOD. RT. REV. WILLIAM MURRAY STONE, D. D.* 1802—1837. William Muerat Stone, the second son of William and Betty Stone, was born in Somerset County, Md., on the 1st of June, 1779. His father was both a farmer and a merchant, in the village of Salisbury. He received his academical training at Princess Ann, the metropolis of Somer- set, but in due time entered Washington College, Kent County, where, at the age of about twenty, he completed his classical and scientific course. Having now resolved to devote himself to the ministry, he pursued his theological studies under the direction of the Rev. Greorge Dashiell, for many years a popular and influential clergyman in Baltimore. He was ordained Deacon by Bishop Claggett, on the 17th of May, 1802, in St. Paul's Parish Church, Prince Greorge's County, Md.; and Priest by the same Prelate, and in the same church, on the 27th of December, 1803. Shortly after his ordination as Deacon, he was called to the Rectorship of Stepney Parish, Somerset County, of which he remained in charge until 1829, when he removed to Chester Parish, in the County of Kent. His early ministry especially was remarkably successful — in 1806, he reported five hundred communicants, which, in a sparsely settled population of a country parish, has rarely had a parallel. On the 1st of June, 1830, Mr. Stone was chosen Bishop of the Diocese of Maryland, as the result of a compromise between two parties, both of whom withdrew their respective candidates and united upon him. As soon as it was announced that he was chosen, the Convention joined in a soleinu service of thanksgiving to God that He had brought them to so harmonious a result. He was consecrated to his office in Baltimore, on the 21st of the • ETorgreen, IV.— Hawks' Ecol. Contrib., VII.— MSS. from his family, Rev. Dr. Allen, and P. Wroth, M. D. "WILLIAM MURRAY STONE. 485 ensuing October, by Bishop White, assisted by Bishops Moore, H. U. Ondcrdonk and Meade. The following extract from a letter addressed to me by Dr. P. Wroth of Chestertown, Md., long an intimate friend of Bishop Stone, is here intro- duced, as containing a more detailed account of his election to the Episco- pate, as well as some other circumstances connected with his history and illustrative of his character : — "It was during his llectorate in this place " (Chestertown,) " that he was elected Bishop. The contest for the Bishopric lay between Dr. Wyatt on the one side, and Doctors Henshaw and Johns on the other. Each party was fully 1 esolved that the candidate of the other should never be the Bishop of the Diocese. After many ballotings a Committee was chosen, and was directed to retire and agree in recommending some individual to the House. Of this Committee llev. Messrs. Simon Wilmer and William M. Stone wore members. As soon as they retired to their room, Mr. Wilmer said, — " Brother Stone, I wish you would go out a little while." Although this was said in a kind and fraternal tone, Mr.^ Stone was much confused, and looked about for some explanation, but receiving none, he quietly obeyed and went out. Mr. Wilmer immediately nominated Mr. Stone — the Committee agreed, went into the Convention room, made their report, and Mr. Stone was (I think unanimously) elected Bishop. " Aftei* the session of the Convention, he returned to his parish. Soon afterwards he resigned, sent off all his family and household establishment in a vessel, and prepared to follow to his farm in Somerset. He preached his last sermon at St. Paul's, (Dr. Ferguson's old parish,) and I was pre- sent to hear it. The Bishop went to church on horseback, — his favourite mode of travelling, I was in my sulky. On our return to Chestertown, the Bishop was engaged in conversation with me, and did not observe that his horse took a narrow foot-path. A stake of the fence jutted out over the path, and he was swept off. In alarm, I immediately jumped out, and soon discovered that one of his arms was fractured near the wrist. It was a favourable time, while he was near fainting, and of course the muscles greatly relaxed, to reduce the fracture. One of the parishioners coming up assisted in the operation. I tore. off some rough splinters from the fence, and bandaged the arm with the aid of our pocket handkerchiefs. His family having been sent away, I took him to my house, where he remained until able to travel. As he was unable to use his knife and fork at table, two of my little children claimed the privilege of feeding him ; and it was amusing to see the venerable and kind-hearted old man, moving his head first to the right, then to the left, laughing all the time, to receive his food from the hands of his little friends. During his confinement, he was several times visited by my old friend and preceptor, Dr. Browne. One day the Bishop elect expressed his fears that his arm would he crooked. ' I think not,' the Doctor said, ' but if it should be, the lawn sleeve will hide it.' " Bishop Stone never possessed a vigorous constitution ; but, after his election to the Episcopate, his health was considerably improved ; and he devoted himself very assiduously to his ofiicial duties, till near the close of his life. Soon after the beginning of the year 1837, he was attacked with 486 EPISCOPALIAN. a fever, which, after several weeks, came to a fatal termination, on the 26th of February. In the progress of the disease, he suffered the most acute pain ; hi^t suffered with perfect resignation to the will of his Heavenly Father. He had feared and served the Lord from his youth ; and his death was worthy of the life which it terminated- There was no Sermon preached at his Funeral, but several Sermons with reference to his death, were preached afterwards, and some of them were published. The Honorary Degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him in 1830, by Columbii College, New York. Bishop Stone's publications are a Charge delivered to the Clergy and Laity of the Protestant Episcopal Church, assembled in Annual Conven- tion in 1831 ; a Pastoral Letter addressed to the Diocese of the Protestant Episcopal Church of Maryland, May, 1835 ; and a Sermon delivered before the G-eneral Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church assembled in New York, October, 1835. In April, 1808, he was married to Anne, daughter of John and Marga- ret Savage, of Northampton County, Va. They had seven children,— four sons and three daughters. 'All the sons became members of the medical profession. Mrs. Stone died on the 9th of April, 1821. FROM THE REY. RICHARD H. "WATERS, EECTOB OF CHKIST CHUKCH, QUEEN CAROLINE PARISH, HOWARD AND ANN ARUNDEL COUNTIES, MD. Savage, Md., October 22, 1853. Kev. and dear Sir: I became acquainted with Bishop Stone about three years before his death, but knew but little of him personally until after my ordination to the Diaconate, which was about six months anterior to that event. In his latter days, my opportunities of knowing him were very ample. After my ordi- nation, I settled in the parish where he had ministered for more than twenty-six years, and resided very near his mansion; and when he was not engaged on his Visitations to his Diocese, was often at his residence, enjoying the pleasure of his society, and the benefit of his counsel. I was with him almost daily during his last illness, was present to witness his dying scene, and committed his body to the grave to await the general resurrection in the last day. Bishop Stone was tall and remarkably slender in his person. His features were small, his hair thin and light, his forehead projecting, and his ej'ebrows uncom- monly large and heavy, and the expression of his countenance altogether agree- able. He was easy of access, winning in his manners, and cheerful in his intercourse. He relished a good joke when circumstances rendered it proper, and he had a large stock of anecdotes at command, which served often greatly to enliven his conversation; though he kept at the greatest distance from every thing that savoured of indecent levity. As a preacher, he was eminently serious and practical. His voice was fine, and his gesture natural and graceful; and yet he was as far as possible from any thing like oratorical display. The great design of all his discourses seemed to be to bring men to Christ; but he never omitted to tell his hearers that none come to Christ, who do not repent, amend, and work righteousness. In the discharge of his Episcopal duties, he was active, industrious and faithful ; and by the union of firmness and moderation, uprightness and kindliness, he gained the general confidence and good-will of his Diocese. In his journeyings through the State he was every where received with marked reverence and aifec- WILLIAM MtTREAY STONE. 487 lion. He visited all the parishes in his Diocese once in two years, and some of them once a year. His attention to vacant parishes particularly was most faith- ful and exemplary. Bishop Stone possessed many virtues, which derived a peculiar lustre from his remarkable humility. He cared, perhaps as little as any man that ever lived, for the pomp and circumstance of ofBce. It has often and truly been said that hon- ours change the characters and manners of men; but this was far from being the case with Bishop Stone. He was the same man in every station. What he had been as a Presbyter in the retirement of a country parish, he continued to be after he became Bishop, and had the eyes of a whole Diocese upon him. He was indeed an admirable specimen of human nature, refined and elevated by the Gos- pel. It was a high privilege to enjoy his society. There were no fluctuations in his behaviour. He was not cordial at one time and cold at another. He was eminently hospitable. None could be his guests without perceiving and feeling that the obligation of gratitude to their host was more than doubled by the cor- diality of his welcome. He was exact and scrupulous in fulfilling his promises. It was a rule with him through life to contract no debts; and it is believed that he almost literally obeyed the injunction of Saint Paul, to owe no man any thing. He was an entire stranger to art and guile. Honesty was his only policy. lie was stable in his friendships. He was always ready to reciprocate ofSces of good- will, but never indelicately obtruded his attentions where they did not meet with a suitable response. In his civilities he put an obvious difference between friends and common acquaintances. He did not treat all who approached him with a courtly profession of peculiar regard — while he was deficient in courtesy towards none, he reserved the warmth and strength of his affection for his friends. He was a true philanthropist — the whole human race were the objects of his good wishes and his prayers. He was an affectionate parent, and a kind and indul- gent master. Though he was especially interested for the prosperity of that branch of the Church over which he presided, he felt a profound concern for the welfare of the Church at large, and rejoiced in all the evidences, wherever found, of the progress of Christ's Kingdom. His memory will live long in the affections of his Episcopal charge ; for he not only taught but practised the truth as it is in Jesus. Yours very sincerely, RICHARD H. WATERS. BENJAMIN CONTEE, D. D. 1803—1816. FROM THE REV. ETHAN ALLEN, D. D. Baltimore, 25*M!arch, 1858. My dear Sir : The subject of the following sketch was not personally known to me, having died some few years before I became acquainted in the Parish of William and Mary, Charles County. He was succeeded there by the Eev. Charles Mann, now of Virginia, my early and intimate friend. I often exchanged services with him, and in that way became acquainted with Doctor Contee's family. After coming into possession of Bishop Claggett's correspondence, my interest in the Doctor was revived and much increased by the perusal of his letters. I therefore took an 488 EPISCOPALIAN. early opportunity to visit his daughter, Mrs. Kent, and obtain from her such information of her venerated father as she was able to furnish. I make this statement that you may know whence I have derived the mate- rial for the sketch which I now offer to your acceptance. Benjamin Contee was born at Benfield, near Portobacco, in Charles County, Md., in the year 1755. Of his earliest days I have learned nothing. But, on the breaking out of the War of the Revolution in 1776, he took a commission in the army, being then a youth of twenty-one. In that capacity he showed himself at once brave and humane, and was much beloved by his soldiers. After the establishment of his country's independence, being a gentle- man of property and leisure, he visited France, Spain, and England. And, after a short residence abroad, he returned home with his mind, which had early been imbued with classical literature, still more highly improve'd, and his manners polished, from a more extended intercourse with the world ; still, however, retaining the same simplicity of character, and the same chaste yet inflexible originality of disposition, which early marked him out as a soldier and a statesman. In 1789, he was elected a representative to Congress, and became thus a member of the first Congress of the United States under the new Consti- tution, which met at New York. There, from his natural diffidence, he was not a public debater ; but was admitted to be wise in counsel, indefa- tigable and profound in investigation, clear and correct in his judgment, and honest and independent in his decisions. He was a personal friend of Washington, and a co-patriot legislator with Madison. During his Congres- sional life, he married Miss Sally Lee, of Blenheim, in Charles County. After he returned from Congress, he engaged in mercantile business in Nottingham, Prince Greorge's County, his father having furnished him with capital for so doing. In this, however, he was not successful, and he returned to Blenheim, where he had been married, and became a planter. At Nottingham he had formed an intimate friendship with Bishop Claggett, whose residence was in that neighbourhood, which continued during their lives. In his new place of residence, willing to be useful to his fellow-citi- zens, he accepted the appointment of Chief Judge of the Testamentary Court of his County. This appointment, calling for his attention only on one or two days in each month, his friends would never consent to his giv- ing up ; and he held it during his life. He also became an active Vestry- man in his parish and a Lay Reader. In May, 1802, when he was forty-seven years old, the Parish of William and Mary, Charles County, in which he had now lived many years, and of which he ha^ long been a Vestryman, having for some time been vacant, owing to the great want of clergymen, he was solicited by the Vestry and others of the parish to enter into Holy Orders and become their pastor. To this he consented ; and the Vestry certified to the Bishop that he had so lived among them as to merit and obtain their esteem and regard, and that should he be admitted to Orders, they would receive him as their min- ister and provide for him. Bishop Claggett at once appointed him the Lay Reader of the parish. He had acted as such before indeed, which he acknowledges in a letter of BENJAMIN CONTEE. 4g9 June 1st, and adds, — " Thrice welcome are your friendly invocations of success to my application for the higher Order of the Church. I am, however, not a little intimidated, when you tell me I am to pass through the hands of strangers. How distressing is this to my natural timidity ! Alas, for I have apprehensions which I cannot easily sustain myself under, especially if it should be my fortune to be rigidly criticised. But such cannot, such must not be the temper of the preachers of peace, benevo- lence, and charity. If, my dear Sir, we are to have none but pastors selected from among the literati of our Church, we at least should be able to stand our ground as Grecians and Latins, and maintain the critical con- struction of the texts of Scripture, as translated into our own vernacular tongue. But how far do these qualifications go towards animating the minds, strengthening and warming the hearts, of any of our country or even town auditories, which are composed, for the most part, of those who are not well lettered, and will be little amended or benefitted by criticisms on words or languages, but who nevertheless may be well disposed to hear a homily or sermon on subjects of morality, or on the infinite goodness of the Almighty Father, the unspeakable kindness of his only begotten Son, and the illimitable comfortg of the Holy Grhost, delivered in plain persua- sive words, -at once adapted to their comprehension, and calculated to ame- liorate and increase their affections and awful love of the Creator of Hea- ven and earth. It is true these happy effects sometimes, and indeed often, flow from the pious endeavours of the learned preacher ; but should I be warranted in the assertion that they can exclusively flow from that source ?" Such was the mo4esty and sound good sense with which this soldier, statesman, and judge of forty-seven, looked at and approached his new call- ing ; expressed indeed not just in the terms of a trained theologian, but of a Christian gentleman. He appears to have been admitted to Deacon's Orders in June, 1803. As he had long been the personal friend and correspondent of Bishop Clag- gett, he was ready always to lend him a helping hand, in any way, and at any time. In 1805, such was the high appreciation of him by the Diocesan Con- vention, that, though he had been only two years in the ministry, he was placed in the Standing Committee, and became the Visitor of the Churches and Parishes in his own and the adjoining County, — a position which he continued to hold as long as he lived. He wrote a very fine and easy hand, and was accustomed often to act as Private Secretary to the Bishop, and copy his journals and addresses for him ; and, on a number of occasions, he accompanied him on his Visitations to both the Eastern and Western Shores, and assisted him in the services of worship, and often and readily in preaching. In 1808, he received the honorary degree of Doctor of Divinity from the University of Pennsylvania. It seems to have been an unexpected thing to him ; and in his answer to the Bishop's letter containing Dr. Blackwell's announcement that the degree had been conferred, he writes, — " My gratitude incites me to urge your acceptance of my poor and humble thanks, not only for the sympathy you entertain on account of the honour Vor,. V. 62 490 EPISCOPALIAN. which Dr. Blackwell's letter to you informs you the University of Pennsyl- vania hath decreed me, but chiefly because you were the prime and moving cause of it. Enclosed is a card to Bishop White and to Dr. Blaokwell conjointly. But if I have come short of the manner, please to burn the card and make my acknowledgments conjointly with yours. If the times and circumstances shall enable me, a year or two hence — say what would be a decent sum to contribute to the funds of the University. It would not look like a premium, because nothing was promised, but it would be an expression, although feeble, of my sense of the obligation. Would you think an hundred dollars too little 1" About this time, the adjoining parish. Trinity, having been vacant for two years, and not being able to find any one to take charge of it, invited Dr. Contee to take it under his care ; and, although one of its churches was distant from him twelve miles, and the other twenty, he consented to com- ply with the request, and remained in that connection five years, — until another could be obtained to occupy the place. While holding these parishes, and visiting besides two vacant parishes in St. Mary's County, — the Bishop's health failing him, — Dr. Contee became, in August, 1811, the Rector of St. Paul's Parish, — a part of the Bishop's charge ; though one of the churches was thirty miles, the other forty miles, distant. With this parish he continued for three years. During this time, he had five places of worship to supply, the two most distant of which, as just stated, were forty miles apart. It cannot but excite astonishment that such a man as Mr. Contee was, giving up his retired and domestic habits and easy circumstances, and entering the ministry at so advanced a period of life, should be found at the age of fifty-six and seven, increasing his labours, year after year, as this venerable minister was now doing. I know of no parallel to his example at this day — what he did we should esteem noble even in a young or middle aged man. In consequence of his age and continued prostration of health, Bishop Claggett had asked an Assistant. The election came on in 1812 ; and it was an exciting one and warmly contested. Those of the Clergy who claimed par excellence to be evangelical, made Dr. Contee their candidate for the Episcopate. But he, having all confidence in the other candidate, cast his vote for him, and by that vote he was elected by the Clergy; though the nomination thus made was not then confirmed by the Laity. Dr. Contee had not entered the ministry for its honours, but to do its work, as God by his grace should enable him. On one or the other or both sides, unfavourable conjectures had sprung up with respect to his conduct at this election. His friend, the Bishop, knowing his views, at once vindicated him, and informed him that he had done so. In reply, he writes, — "It is true my conduct in a public capa- city is liable to animadversion. But whether it may have arisen from the circumstance of a constant endeavour to avoid hostility or offence, or to an actual self- insignificance, I have the satisfaction to think that hitherto I have fortunately escaped obloquy in as great a degree perhaps as most who have attained to my years, and have been not less engaged in situations of some elevation and great responsibility. BENJAMIN CONTEE. 491 " Well, as it is said, in other words, in a terse Gaelic proverb, ' there is no rose without a thorn,' I may be allowed to say, by way of a propo- sition, — if thorns give smart, the dew of the appendant rose may infuse balmy assuagements into the puncture. Let this then be my consolation, that though I acted not conformably with the opinions of some, I injured nobody in acting agreeably to my own opinion. And as none can justly impute blame, where no sinister views were cherished, so none have a right, from partial views, to arraign the conduct of another. My sentiments on the subject were not novel when I acted upon them. They had been known the year before, and I saw nothing, maugre the elaborate debatings, to alter them." Wo need not be surprised to find that at length he had to curtail the field of his labours. In the beginning of 1813, he succeeded in having Trinity Church given into the charge of another minister, and at the end of the year he relinquished the charge of St. Paul's, Prince George's County. But he continued on in William and Mary, the parish in which he resided, till his death, which took place on the 23d of January, 1816, in the sixty- first year of his age, — preceding his beloved friend and Bishop only about six months. He died, after a short illness, of pneumonia. Bishop Clag- gett rode forty miles to attend his funeral, and preached from the words, — "He walked with God." His nephew. Judge W. D. G. Worthington, soon after his death, pre- pared an obituary notice of him, in which he says, — " The deceased was distinguished by a life, honourable and useful to his country and his friends, and irreproachable before all the world. In later life, he was induced by the persuasion of his friends, and his own serious and devout turn of mind, to enter into Holy Orders. This appears to be the character above all, which by God and nature, he was designed to fill. The Protestant Episcopal Church in Maryland have witnessed, unremittingly for many years, the most laborious and conscientious discharge of his duties, exhibiting in his public and private offices a divine, both in precept and in practice, pure, charitable and compassionate. Though strict and observant of the canons and cere- monies of the Church, he was yet mild, cheerful and unostentatious, uniting the manners and character of a private accomplished gentleman with only the essentials of an evangelical Christian minister. " Though a Churchman, he was not fond of power ; but as he fought for the rights of man in '76, he continued a firm advocate of them in 1815. Yet he never meddled with temporal subjects in the pulpit, as he conceived decency and duty restrained him there to spiritual things alone. In his last moments, his efforts were to raise his dying hands in prayer." Dr. Contee left behind him a widow, who survived him several years ; two sons, — Philip Ashton Lee, and Edmund Henry; and a daughter, Alice Lee. The sons both married, but are now dead, leaving behind them three children. His daughter became the second wife of the late Governor Kent, of Maryland, — well known as a member of the Senate of the United States, and U now living in the city of Baltimore. Your friend and brother in Christ, ETHAN ALLEN. 492 EPISCOPALIAN. JAMES MORSS, D. D. 1803—1842. FROM THE REV. CHARLES BURROUGHS, D. D. PoETSMOHTH, N. H., August 14,1849. Rev. and dear Sir : In the summer of the year 1808, I saw and visited, for the §rst time, the Rev. James Morss at his happy home in Newhury- port. He was then the Rector of St. Paul's Church in that town. He lived at his own spacious and beautiful house, in High street, attached to which was a large and well cultivated garden. He was then in the thirtieth year of his age, and had been settled over his church five years. His appear- ance awakened in me the most pleasing emotions. In stature he was above the common height, was of full, round proportions, and strongly marked with physical energy and dignity. His features were symmetrical, and were generally beaming forth mildness and benignity. His soft and expres- sive eye invited confidence and affection. His voice was clear and melodi- ous. His gracious manners, his cordial hospitality, his whole appearance, kindled within me a friendship and attachment which met no interruption till the sad moment of his decease. From my first interview until that moment, I was on terms of perfect confidence and intimacy with him ; and ever found in him the faithful friend, the courteous gentleman, and the devout and practical Christian. You will readily believe, therefore, that it is only a labour of love for me to furnish you, in compliance with your request, with some brief notices of his life and character. Jambs Mobss, a son of Jonathan and Judith Morss, was born at New- buryport, October 25, 1779. It was not his original design to enter the ministry. His parents were respectable and pious, but their circumstances were so humble that they thought of no occupation for him beyond a mechanical trade. The rudiments of his education were acquired at the public schools of his native town ; and there he was distinguished for indus- try, love of truth, and kindness of heart. After this, he commenced, at an early age, learning the trade of a joiner. He was, however, engaged in that occupation but a short time ; for soon after his entrance upon it, he had a fall upon the ice which so injured his arm that he was obliged to abandon his mechanical pursuits. The calamity proved a blessing ; for it gave a new and higher direction to his mind, and raised up for him efiicient patrons to aid him in securing a collegiate education. In his seventeenth year he entered Harvard College, and held a high rank in a class of many eminent scholars. He was graduated with honour in 1800. After leaving College, he kept the grammar school in Brookline, and commenced the study of Theology under the Rev. Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Pierce. He was soon employed as lay reader in the Episcopal Church at Cambridge, and at a later period continued and completed his theological course under the vene- rable Bishop Bass. He was admitted to Deacon's Orders, July 3, 1803 ; became an Assistant of the Bishop in St. Paul's Church ; and continued to hold the office until the Bishop's death, in September of that year. In November following he was appointed Rector of the Church. On the 11th JAMES MORSS. 493 of June, 1804, he was admittea to Priest's Orders, in New York, by the Rt. Rev. Dr. Benjamin Moore. He remained the Rector of St. Paul s Church till his decease, on the 26th of April, 1842. How often does God render disappointments our greatest mercies, and send them as the most eiFectual agents of his love. The providential event that brought Mr. Morss into the ministry, we cannot doubt, resulted in great good. His sermons, though severely simple in the exhibition of truth, and not distinguished for either learning or eloquence, were always interesting, instructive and weighty. His delivery was calm and unimpassioned, but persuasive and pleasing. His style was perfectly lucid, but without much ornament. He read the Church Service with great propriety and impres- siveness. His well managed voice, distinct articulation, and rounding of tones, gave very considerable effect to his public performances, — an effect not a little heightened by his extreme modesty and diffidence of manner, securing in his behalf the interest and sympathy of his hearers. His habits of living were simple. He rose early and was industriously occupied during the day. His garden was a favourite field for his activity and taste. He was fond of parochial visits, and found a cheerful and hearty welcome in the houses of his parishioners ; for he was ever easy of access ; was condescending and affable ; and entered with lively benevolent sympathies into all their interests. The gentle Christian spirit that made him so much beloved among those of his own family and parish, carried him along in a peaceful intercourse with all other persons, however they might have differed from him in any religious or political views. He was a stranger to bigotry and prejudice, to envy and resentment. A certain person, who held the Episcopal Church in low estimation, who looked upon its ministers as mere formalists, and supposed Dr. Morss to be an entire stranger to evangelical doctrine and Christian experience, once thus reproved a sick friend who had sent for Dr. BI. as a minister of consolation : — " Why did you send for that minister ? He can do you no good: he is only a preacher of morality.''' The Doctor was informed of this incident. Sometime afterwards the man who had spoken of him so ungraciously met him in the street ; and being then in most indigent cir- cumstances, he told the Doctor of his extreme poverty, and his apprehen- sion that he should soon become an inmate of the almshouse. The Doctor, touched by his piteous story, gave him five dollars. The unfortunate man was overwhelmed with astonishment and gratitude, declared his benefactor to be an angel of Grod, and asked him what prompted him to an act so munificent. The Doctor replied, with a most benevolent smile, — "Sir, it was my morality." Such was his temper towards all men. Such was his liberality to every poor person who sought his aid. During the thirty years in which I enjoyed his friendship, I deemed him a beautiful example of living virtue. He moved in his varied duties with the utmost constancy and alacrity, and diffused around him everywhere a kindly and genial warmth. He was a man of strict justice, scrupulous veracity, exemplary discretion, and generous hospitality. Rarely occurs a more happy connection between minister and people, than that which for thirty-nine years existed between him and his parish. But it pleased the great Disposer of events to dissolve that connection on 494 EPISCOPALIAN. Tuesday the 26th of April, 1842, when this venerable man surrendered hia spirit to God. On the Saturday previous to that event, it was my privilege to pass somei time with him. I found him calm, submissive and patient. His disease was an aflfection of the heart. It came on insidiously, during our Passion week, in the latter end of March ; but it was only a week preceding his decease, that any apprehensions were expressed about the issue. He received me, on entering his chamber, with the sweetest expres- sions of kindness and pleasure. I found him so feeble that it was thought inexpedient to propose to him the reception of the Communion. While I was sitting at his bedside, he requested me to read the " Office of the Visitation of the Sick." He took the Prayer Book in his hand, and though his friends advised him to remain quiet, he made the responses with firm and fervent tones. At the conclusion of the service, he said, — " This comprehends all that I could desire." With great humility he expressed his conviction that he had fallen far short of his duty. I observed to him that our justification was only by faith in the merits of Jesus Christ, as a "full, perfect and sufficient oblation and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world." He cordially assented to the remark. I added nothing more but an affectionate farewell. The following Tuesday morning he expired, and on the next Thursday I preached his Funeral Sermon. I heard Bishop Griswold's solemn voice commit the remains of my revered friend to the dust, and I mourned over him in sorrow of heart as for an only brother. The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by the Col- lege of New Jersey, in 1826. He was married on the 19th of October, 1804, to Martha, daughter of Jacob and Sarah Boardman, of Newburyport. They had twelve children, — eight sons and four daughters. One of the sons, Jacob B., entered the ministry of the Episcopal Church, and is now living at Owen's Mills, near Baltimore. After the death of his first wife, he was married, January 6, 1831, to Mrs. Elizabeth Tyng, widow of the Hon. Dudley Atkins Tyng, who was a daughter of the Hon. Stephen Higginson of Boston. She died on the 7th of January, 1841. Dr. Morss' publications are a Sermon delivered in St. John's Church, Portsmouth, N. H., on occasion of the Opening of the new Church there, 1808 ; a Sermon on the Origin, Progress, and Present State of the Episco- pal Church in Newburyport and its vicinity, preached at St. Paul's Church, Newburyport, 1811 ; a Sermon on the Divinity of Christ, preached at St. Paul's Church, Newburyport, on the Anniversary of the Nativity of our Lord and Saviour, 1812 ; a Discourse before the Merrimac Bible Society, on their fifth Anniversary, 1815 ; a Controversy between himself as Philo, and an Inquirer, on keeping Christmas, 1816 ; a Sermon on the Nativity of our Lord, to which is added the substance of two Sermons delivered January 1, 1838, being the Close of a Century since the first Church Edifice was erected in Newburyport, and containing a succinct History of the Episcopal Church in Newburyport and Vicinity. With the utmost respect and sincere regard, Your friend and obedient servant, CHARLES BURROUGHS. THOIIAS LTELL. 495 THOMAS LYELL, D. D. 1804—1848. FROM THE REV. ALBERT SMEDES, D. D., RECTOE OF ST. MART's SCHOOL, KALEIGH, S. 0. Raleigh, July 11, 1858. My dear Sir : Your request for some account of my late venerable father-in-law, the Kev. Dr. Lyell, I cheerfully comply with, and am happy to be able to verify the leading facts of his life by a reference to some written memoranda of his own. Thomas Ltbll was born in Richmond County, Va., on the 13th of May, 1775, — the fifth son of John and Sarah Lyell. His father was a respectable farmer or planter, not a man of wealth but of reputable posi- tion and estimable character, training his children in habits of early rising, implicit obedience, and persevering industry. They aided their father in the labours of the farm. His advantages of education were limited, schools being scarce and inferior ; but he had improved them so far that when, at the age of not more than fifteen, he was induced by the meagre supply, to offer bis own services as a teacher to the neighbourhood, they were eagerly accepted, and highly appreciated. In this employment he continued two years, during which time he became acquainted with different Methodist preachers, spent days with them, travelled with them from station to sta- tion, and even joined them in the exercise of exhorting the people. These exhortations were very kindly received, sometimes by hundreds and even thousands of persons, so that he was, in his earliest youth, exposed to the dangers of very great popularity. Previously to this, at about the age of thirteen or fourteen, his mind had received deep religious impressions under the preaching of the Methodists. His parents were Episcopalians ; but, in the total absence of the ministrations of their own Church, they were dependant principally on the Methodist ministry for religious services. At the age of not more than fifteen, he commenced his exhortations in the Methodist denomina- tion ; at the end of two years, his savings as a teacher enabled him to pur- chase a horse, and to equip himself for the regular duties of a Methodist preacher, on his circuit ; for which purpose he appeared at the Conference held in 1792, at the age of seventeen yearS, and, after an examination, was admitted to preach on trial. He had already acquired a very great popu- larity as an exhorter. His first circuit was Frederick Circuit in Virginia. His companion in this circuit was Thomas Scott, only twenty-one years of age ; but, notwithstanding their youth, their labours were very acceptable and greatly blessed. Part of his ministry, while in the Methodist connec- tion, was exercised in Providence, R. I., where he enjoyed the friendly regards of the late Bishop Bowen of South Carolina, then Rector of St. John's Church in that city. While a Methodist preacher, he was elected Chaplain to Congress, during the latter part of the administration of John Adams, and the first part of 496 EPISCOPALIAN. that of Jefferson, and he often spoke of the shock which he experienced when, at the first official dinner given by Mr. Jefferson, he departed from the uniform usage of his predecessors, in dispensing with the asking of a blessing at the table, though both the Congressional Chaplains were pre- sent. Notwithstanding Mr. Lyell had been an eminently popular and useful preacher among the Methodists, he became satisfied, upon mature examina- tion, that the claims of the Church in which he was born, to a truly apos- tolical character, could be sustained, and he resolved to return and seek a home in her bosom. He, accordingly, received Episcopal Orders at the hands of Bishop Claggett, in 1804 ; and at the close of that year, on the resignation of the Rev. Dr. Pilmore, who removed to Philadelphia, he became Rector of Christ Church, New York, and remained in that con- nection until the close of life. Not long after his induction, he was ordained Priest by Bishop Benjamin Moore. At an early period of Mr. Lyell's ministry at New York, a close inti- macy sprang up between him and Dr. (afterwards Bishop) Hobart, and each subsequently rendered the other important offices of kindness. A vigorous effort was made to vacate the Rectorship of the Church, for the sake of introducing another person ; but Dr. Hobart, with his well known energy, put in operation various influences by which the attempt was effect- ually neutralized. And when, at a little later period, Dr. Hobart became a candidate for the Episcopate, and his election was violently contested, his friend Mr. Lyell exerted himself to the utmost in his favour, and that not- withstanding the opposing candidate was his own venerable father-in-law, the Rev. Dr. Beach. Mr. Lyell was honoured with the degree of Master of Arts from Brown University in 1803, and with that of Doctor of Divinity from Columbia College, in 1822. In 1805, he was elected a Trustee of the " Protestant Episcopal Society for promoting Learning and Religion in the State of New York ;" and during many of his last years he was the senior member of the Board. When Dr. Hobart was elected to the Episcopate in 1811, Mr. Lyell was elected his successor as Secretary of the Convention of the Diocese, and held the office, by annual elections, until he declined it in 1816. In 1813, he was elected a member of the Standing Committee of the Diocese, — a post which he continued to hold till his death, with the exception of a short period in which, from considerations of delicacy, he voluntarily retired, on account of certain matters being brought before the Committee, in which he was a party concerned as Rector of Christ Church. In 1818, he was chosen a deputy to the General Convention, and continued to be ever after till he declined a re-election, in 1844. He was a Trustee of the General Theological Seminary from 1822, when it was removed to the city of New York, and discharged the duties of the station with great fidelity. Indeed there were scarcely any institutions connected with the Diocese of which he was not an active and influential member. Dr. Lyell held on the even tenor of his way through a long ministry until his death, which took place on the 4th of March, 1848, after being confined to his room for only a single week. He died of influenza. His disease, which was not painful, was endured with entire patience and resig- THOMAS LYELL. 497 nation, and he passed gently outf of this world, as an infant drops asleep, having in his countenance in death an infant's innocent smile. Dr. Lyell was three times married. By the first marriage he had eight children — by the last two, none. His third wife still survives, and resides in the city of New York. There is no doubt that his greatest popularity as a preacher was during the early part of his ministerial life ; but throughout the whole of it, he was remarkable for the faithful discharge of his duties, especially towards the sick and the afflicted. At his funeral much deep feeling was exhibited by the crowd that filled the church, and his name is cherished as a house- hold one by multitudes still living in the scene of his long ministry. At a meeting of the Clergy, held after his funeral, the Eev. Dr. M'Vickar, in introducing the appropriate resolutions, paid the following tribute to Dr. Lyell's memory. He said that " in offering Resolutions expressive of the -public loss, he could not but add one word touching upon his own. In the death of the Rev. Dr. Lyell he had lost a friend of nearly forty years' standing — a friendship that would bear at least two tests of what true friendship should be. It has grown stronger with age — month by month, and year by year. And again, on looking back at it, in this hour of separation, he could remember, he thanked God, during its whole course, no one word between them but of afi"ection, kindness and respect. Such was the friend he had lost , and his removal had left a gap, he con- fe^ed, in his small circle, which it was not of this world to make up. He knew not where to turn to fill it. 'Twas true he could find among his brethren many a one more learned — many more sagacious — many more wise, after this world's acceptation ; but one so marked by genuine, child- like simplicity of heart, — so frank, fearless and cordial in manners, united with such almost Apostolic firmness of Church principles, it was not easy for him to find. Dr. Lyell's was indeed a character rare in this artificial age ; the wisdom and the warmth of a single-hearted, impulsive spirit, which sees the truth, as it were, by instinct, and clings to it by its very nature — such a heart" said he, "had my venerable friend, — bright and refreshing to look on, like a clear fountain ; — a heart which age could not sadden, nor misfortune make selfish, nor, though tender and sensitive as a. child's, even ingratitude and injury embitter ; — a heart which ever poured forth sweet waters amid the world's tumults, and that because it was itself sweetened by religion : the love of Christ was deep within it, therefore was it bright and gentle ; for nothing ever goes far wrong with the heart that stands right there. Such, Mr. Chairman, was the friend I have lost ; and. till, through Christ, we meet in ' that better land,' where parted hands^ shall clasp again, I look not to supply his place. Craving pardon for these- few words of a full heart, I move the Resolutions I have just read." I am very truly and respectfully yours, ALBERT SMEDES- FROM THE RT. RET. B. T. ONDERDONK, D. D., BISHOP OF THE DIOCESE OF NEW TOEK. Sew York, July 28, ISSS^ Jly dear Doctor: I fear you have thought me very remiss in not having earlier acknowledged your favours, from Fire Island, of the 14th and 15th inst. Since TOL. V. 63 498 EPISCOPALIAN. that time, however, I have been much more than usually pressed with engage- ments not admitting of delay My recollections of Dr. Lyeli go back to my childhood. I was about thirteen or fourteen years of age when he came to this city. He very soon became inti- mate in my father's family, and as even then my mind was strongly set upon the ministry, he was kind enough to manifest special favour and friendship tovvard.s me. His manners were genial, frank, and cheerful, just such as to attach young people and children to him. He became immediately a very popular preacher in this city. His first church was in Ann Street, between Nassau and William. It had been built about ten years before he came here, by a portion of the Parish of Trinity Church, before that, with its Chapels of St. George and St. Paul, the only Episcopal organization in the city. The founders of Christ Church had been desirous of having the Rev. Joseph Pilmore — originally an English Metho- dist preacher, an intimate friend and co-worker of John Wesley — called as an Assistant in Trinity Parish. Another gentleman was called, and they deter- mined to organize another parish, and Mr. (afterwards and for many years, with considerable celebrity in Philadelphia, Dr.) Pilmore as their Rector. ^Vlien a young man, yet in Deacon's Orders, Mr. Lyell became his successor. The popularit}' to which he immediately attained was the more remarkable on account of the great popularity of his predecessor. I must, in justice, however, say that it was, in both cases, rather popularity with the masses, than with the more select and intelligent portion of the community. It was popularity, however, and, I have no doubt, attended with much spiritual blessing. I have seen the Church in Ann Street so crowded that chairs were brought into the aisles, and still multitudes kept standing, at one of Mr. Lyell's ordinary services. He was a man of great frankness and good-humour, and on occasions when it was fit, would tell anecdotes of himself, pro or con, with the most childlike sim- plicity — even when they were complimentary to himself, no one knowing him, ever, for a moment, suspected him of vanity. I recollect two on this subject of his popularity, and power — for without much pohsh, he had a great deal of native, earnest eloquence, and ingenious management of subjects — of interesting his hearers. They have — the first certainly, and I believe both — reference to him as a Methodist preacher. A portion of his itinerant ministry was spent in New England. On one occasion he was in Boston at the Christmas and New Year season. The Methodists, you are aware, are in the habit of speciallj- observing the night which is divided between the close of one and the commence- ment of another year, called by them, I believe, the Watch Night; when they have a service commencing before, and closing after, twelve o'clock. Their policy I understand to be, to choose a preacher for that hour from among those distin- guished by such a cast of oratory as will be best adapted to produce a powerful effect in improving the interesting moment when the past is left and the future entered on. On this occasion young Lyell was chosen. The congregation was immense. In relating the circumstance he would say that he did feel much excited, very earnest, and very solemn, and did his best to press the thoughts proper to the occasion home to the hearts of the hearers. Just below the pulpit he saw a person, an army or navy officer, whose appearance was very peculiar. He was evidently listening intently, but his manner otherwise seemed rather to express dissatisfaction and displeasure. The result would indicate that he was moved by a disturbed, but not a rightly afiected, conscience; for, during the sermon, he worked his way out of the church, through the crowd, as well as he could; and, as the sexton afterwards said, when he got to the door, and quit the house, exclaimed. That's the greatest scoundrel that's been in Boston since the days of Whitefield. The Doctor, in his naive and cheerful way, would tell this as involving a great compliment to his pulpit powers. THOMAS LTELL. 499 The second anecdote relates to Mr. Sumnierfleld, when he was in the high day of his popularity here. Dr. Lyell was expiessing his satisfaction to him at the interest he was exciting in the community, and added something to this effect, — "Enjoy it and improve it while you can. It will have its day, and that day will end. I remember the time when I too preached to thousands; but who takes much pains now to go and hear old Thomas Lyell.'" For some time after he took charge of Christ Church, he preached generally, — at first, I believe, almost altogether, extempore. For many years, however, before his death, ho abandoned this, and wrote his sermons. This was proba- bly, in a measure, the consequence of the pains he took to improve his mind by reading and study. He began his ministry among the Methodists so early in life, and gave to it so much of active industry, that his early advantages of read- ing and study were very limited. A venerable missionary of this Diocese, known among us, for many j^ears before his death, as Father Nash, once asked Dr. Lyell how long he had been in the Methodist ministry before coming into the Episcopal Church. "From my infancy, Brother Nash," was the reply. He began to preach, I believe, when not more than sixteen or seventeen years of age. So that, although he had been several years a preacher, he was but a young man when ordained in the Episcopal Church. After his settlement in this city, he gave earnest and successful heed to reading and study. After my own ordina- tion, it was my privilege to be invited to continue my Hebrew studies in connec- tion with the late Dr. Barry, and Dr. Lyell, to whom the present venerable Dr. Clement C. Moore was kindly giving gratuitous instruction in that lan- guage. When I trouble you with personal anecdotes of the Doctor, I beg to be consi- dered as committing them entirely to your judgment and discretion; by no means certain whether, in general propriety, or according to the particular pro- prieties of your work, they ought to be there. For reasons which you will pro- bably appreciate, my mind is somewhat balancing respecting the following. It seems to me a pretty good one, however, and I will tell it. The Rev. Dr. Har- ris, for many years President of Columbia College, was also a very pleasant and somewhat jocose companion. He and Dr. Lyell, in moments of pleasant social intercourse, would be very witty, sometimes a little sharply witty, on each other, without at all interfering with the feelings of fraternal friendship and affection which they mutually cherished. Dr. Harris was a well educated man, a gradu- ate of Harvard, and had been originally a Congregational minister. On one occasion, in the midst of conversation, he said, "Brother Lyell, how is that you ever got into the Episcopal Church.'" " And pray. Brother Harris, how did you ever get into it.'" " 0, with a great price obtained I this freedom." "But I was freeborn." This ready reply had reference to the fact that his family had been of the Episcopal Church in Virginia, in which he was baptized. That Church was, however, then and there, in a most deplorably low and miserable condition — the consequence, I am sorry to say, of the worthless, and worse than worthless, character of many of the Clergy., The more serious members gath- ered around the Methodist Clergy in large numbers. Dr. Lyell's family among them. In reference to his coming back again to his own Church, it should be known that, although his own preaching was, for a time, what some would call ranting, yet he never approved of irregular and vociferous excitement among the people. This, I have understood, sometimes made him unpopular among the Methodists. This, however, was but local and temporary. He used often to speak of the material evidence kindly extended to him of friendship and good- will. He said that he was never better off, in a temporal point of view, than when he was a Methodist minister. His services were generally itinerant. His salary, though small, he had little or no occasion for spending. He was provi- ded with a capital horse — the best he had ever seen — too gay some of the graver 500 EPISCOPALIAN. people thought. Wherever he went, a good and abundantly hospitable home was ready for him and his horse. His wardrobe was kept constantly supplied with a succession of new garments. He always spoke kindly of his old Methodist friends, and was on terms of friendly intercourse with their Clergy in this city. For the venerable Methodist Bishop Asbury he retained feelings of warm filial respect and love, and seemed .ilways pleased to speak of him. This led to material for another anecdote which lie used to tell. On one occasion, when several of the Clergy were dining with him, old Dr. Bowden, then Professor in Columbia College, said of him, after he had been expatiating on the excellence of Bishop Asbury, — " Well, Mr. Lyell has at least one good trait in his character." " Indeed, Doctor, what is it.' I am glad that I have a single one." " You are not ashamed of your poor relations." I have reason to believe that his continued good feeling towards the Methodists was entirely reciprocated by them. I never shall forget a long and interesting conversation I once had with him, when we were brother Presbyters in this city. It made a deep impression on ray mind as illustrative of Christian character in some of its best phases. He was then one of the most respectable and influential of our Clergy, confided in and consulted by his Bishop, (Hobart,) as he had been by his previous Bishop, Dr. Benjamin Moore. The conversation — I do not recollect how — naturally drew him, without any selfish leading on his part, to refer to his own case. He felt that God, through kind friends, had ordered his destinies in a manner entirely beyond not only his merits, but his expectations. When he looked back to the little early advantages he had, and remembered how soon after his settlement here he realized his insufBciency for any other than very humble service in the Church, he felt astonished at the position he had been allowed to gain. Having a happy command of words, and a warm heart, and tender sensi- bilities, he enlarged on such points, with an earnestness, an evident humility, a clear sincerity, and a spirit of true piety, which filled me with admiration of him. Among Dr. Lyell's traits of character was fearlessness and disinterestedness in the discharge of duty. This was remarkably exemplified at the time of the election of Dr. Hobart to the Episcopate. Dr. Lyell was thoroughly convinced that it was his duty to promote this by all the means in his power. There were circumstances of a very peculiar nature which rendered this a sore trial to him. He went manfully through it; looking only at what was right, and leaving all consequences, however distressing they might prove to him, to the providence of that God, whose he was, and whom he served. A thought has several times crossed my mind, while preparing this uncon- scionably long letter, that after all it may be too late for the purpose intended. This will certainly make me still more regret not having been able to commence it sooner. But even this will not deprive me of the pleasing recollection of the satisfaction enjoyed in writing about Dr. Lyell, and in writing to I)r. Sprague; in whose memory I hope to have a place as his. In Christian respect and love, BEN J. T. ONDERDONK. JOHN CHURCHILL RTJDD. 50I JOHN CHURCHILL RUDD, D. D * 1805—1848. John Churchill Rudd, a son of Jonathan and Mary (Huntington) Rudd, was born at Norwich, Conn., on the 24th of May, 1779. He was fitted for Yale College under the instruction of the Rev. Samuel Nott, of Franklin, but by some adverse circumstances was prevented from taking a collegiate course. He was educated a Congregationalist, but he seems at an early period to have felt some difficulty in respect to the distinctive features of Calvinism, and the result of his reading and reflection was to establish him in the opposite system. Having gone to reside in the city of New York, he was led, either by accident or from curiosity, to an Epis- copal Church, and while he was much impressed by the Service, he found the preaching also much more congenial with his views than that which he had been accustomed to hear. After a short time, he made the acquain- tance both of Bishop Moore and of Dr. (afterwards Bishop) Hobart ; and, at no distant period, he came to render a full and hearty assent to both the doctrines and the polity of the Episcopal Church. In due time he received Baptism and Confirmation from Bishop Moore, and entered his name as a Candidate for Holy Orders. Having pursued his theological studies, partly under the Bishop, and partly under Dr. Hobart, for a considerable time, he was admitted to Deacon's Orders, by Bishop Moore, on the 28th of April, 1805, and about the same time the next year, to Priest's Orders, by the same venerable Prelate. After he was ordained Deacon, he engaged in missionary labour on Long Island for a few months, at the suggestion of Bishop Moore ; but in December of that year he took charge of St. John's Parish, Elizabethtown, N. J., and in May following was instituted its Rector. The parish was in rather a depressed state, the average number of attendants on public wor- ship not exceeding a hundred ; and in endeavouring to revive and promote its interests, he tasked his energies to the utmost. The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him, by the Uni- versity of Pennsylvania, at the suggestion of his friend. Bishop White, in 1822. Dr. Rudd's labours at Elizabethtown so exhausted the vigour of hia constitution, and affected his vocal organs, that he found it necessary to resign his charge, and betake himself to some employment that required less both of physical and mental effort. Accordingly, on the 26th of May, 182G, he tendered his resignation to the Vestry, which was accepted, though not without deep regret that it should have been necessary ; and in July following he removed to Auburn, where he took the general charge of an Academy, without any intention of engaging, to any considerable extent, in the labour of teaching. St. Peter's Church in that place being at that time vacant, and his health and voice having become somewhat improved, he was prevailed on to take charge of the church, and continued its Rector •Berrian's Recolleotiona of Departed Friends.— MSS. from Mrs. Eudd, and T. Y. How, Esq. 502 EPISCOPALIAN. for seven years. During this time, the congregation increased so that the church edifice required to be enlarged ; and after that had been done, it was burned to the ground. Within a little more than a year, however, he had the satisfaction of seeing, as the result of a united and vigorous effort on the part of himself and the parish, a commodious stone building for public worship erected on the spot where the other had stood. The con- gregation, at the same time, was free from debt ; and under these circum- stances, in a very enfeebled state of health, he resigned his pastoral charge. At the instance of Bishop Hobart, Dr. Rudd was induced, in 1827, to commence a religious periodical, devoted especially to the interests of the Episcopal Church, entitled " The Gospel Messenger." He assumed the whole pecuniary as well as editorial responsibility, and he continued the work, notwithstanding his great feebleness, till the close of his life. In 1835, he made an arrangement to have it printed by the publisher of a secular paper in Utica, he continuing the editor ; and, accordingly, he took up his residence there ; but the arrangemeiit proved unsuccessful, and was not of long continuance. Dr. Rudd suffered for many years, and often most intensely, from inflam- matory rheumatism. But, about a year before his death, the disease changed to a sort of chronic dysentery, which, however, though it kept his strength constantly reduced, did not interfere materially with the discharge of his ordinary duties. As the Commencement at Geneva College, (an institution to which, as a Trustee, he had long been zealously devoted,) was approaching, in August, 1848, he expressed a strong desire to attend it, and also the Diocesan Convention which was to be held a few days later ; and he seemed deeply impressed with the idea that this would be his last opportunity for being present on either of these occasions. Accordingly, a day or two before the Commencement, he went to Geneva, made the journey with much comfort, and stopped at the house of the Rev. J. H. Hobart, whose father, — the Bishop, had been for many years his devoted friend, and came to his house at last to die. On the day of the Commence- ment, he was able to join the procession, and take his seat upon the stage ; but, after a short time, he was obliged to leave the house, and was so ill that it was not without difficulty that he succeeded in reaching his lodgings. After remaining here in extreme feebleness for about six weeks, — during a part of which time even his removal was considered as nearly hopeless, — he was enabled, by slow stages, to make his way back to Utica, not far from the close of September. After recovering from the fatigue of the journey, his health seemed slightly improved, insomuch that he was able to take short rides and walks, but it soon became apparent that there was no permanently favourable change. His strength was now constantly upon the decline, though he was not confined to his room more than a fortnight, and con- tinued to give directions in regard to the publishing of the Gospel Messen- ger, until the last day of his life. He died in great peace on the 15th of November, 1848. The day before his death, upon being informed by his wife of the death of a dear friend, he dictated to her a few sentences, which, by his request, were sent to the Messenger Office, to be inserted in the next Number of the paper ; and when the paper appeared containing this tribute rendered in death to the memory of his friend, it announced also JOHN CHURCHILL EUDD. 503 the tidings of his own departure. By his own request, his remains were taken to Elizabethtown, the scene of his early labours, for burial, and a Funeral Discourse was delivered by the Rev. Dr. Berrian, of New York, an old and highly valued friend, which was afterwards published in a volume entitled "Recollections of Departed Friends." On the 22d of January, 1803, he was married by Dr. Hobart, in the city of New York, to Phebe Eliza, daughter of Edward and Ann Bennett, of Shrewsbury, Monmouth County, N. J. They had no children. Mrs. Rudd still (1858) survives. Dr. Rudd was, a number of years, the only child of his widowed mother, who passed the latter part of her life with him, and died two years after her son, at the advanced age of ninety- four. The following is a list of Dr. Rudd's publications : — Religious Instruc- tion enforced in a Sermon preached in St. John's Chapel, Elizabethtown, N. J., the fourth Sunday in Advent, 1822. Historical Notices of St. John's Church, Elizabethtown, N. J., contained in a Discourse delivered in said Church, 1824. Monitorial Schools : The Origin, Progress, and Advantages of the Monitorial System of Tuition set forth in an Address delivered on the occasion of the Opening of the Elizabethtown Public School, 1825. A Letter addressed to the members of the Congregation of St. John's Church, Elizabethtown, on resigning the Rectorship of the same, 1826. Tribute to Departed Excellence : An Address upon the Life and Character of the Rt. Reverend John Henry Hobart, D. D., Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the State of New York, delivered in St. Peter's Church, Auburn, 1830. The Temple Destroyed, or the Parish in Affliction : A Sermon preached in the Court House, Auburn, Cayuga County, N. Y., the sixth Sunday after Epiphany, being the Sunday follow- ing the Destruction of St. Peter's Church by Fire, 1832. The Resurrec- tion, the Hope and Consolation of the Christian : A Sermon preached in Auburn on occasion of the death of Miss Sarah Jane Warden, 1833. Christ the Chief Corner Stone : A Sermon preached in St. Peter's Church, Auburn, being the first occasion of Public Worship in said Church after its Consecration. With an Appendix containing a Brief Sketch of the History of the Congregation from its Organization, 1833. A Sermon on "the Unity of the Church," published in the Protestant Episcopal Pulpit, 1833. A Sermon preached in St. Peter's Church, Auburn, on the Inter- ment of Mrs. Evelina E. Throop, Consort of the Hon. E. T. Throop, late Governor of the State of New York, 1834. The Influence of the Female Character : A Sermon preached in Trinity Church, Utiea, and published by request of the Ladies of the Congregation, 1836. The Bible and its Companion : A Sermon preached in Christ Church, Manlius, at the Anni- versary Jleeting of the Bible and Common Prayer Book Society of the Central Part of the State of New York, 1837. Dr. Rudd edited the Churchman's Magazine several years previous to 1812, — which was discontinue.d in consequence of the War, and of the difficulty of sending the work to distant subscribers. 504 EPISCOPALIAN. FROM THE REV. BENJAMIN DOER, D. D., KECTOa OP CHRIST OHUBCH, PHILADELPHIA. Philadelphia, January 14, 1858. My dear Sir: Your letter of the 11th inst., received last evening, stirred my heart like a trumpet. It unsealed a fountain of sweet memories, around which I should love to linger and drink deep, if I had time to indulge my inclination; but pressing cares and duties, at this time, more than ever, deprive me of the power of continuous thought. It would be particularly refreshing and comfort- ing to my mind and heart just now, in the retirement of ray study, to go fully into the subject of your letter, — to call up and to record all that I have known and loved of my dear departed friend. You can understand why it would be specially soothing to my feelings at this time, when I say to you that some of the happiest hours of my life were passed with Dr. Eudd at my home in Utica, or under his hospitable roof in Auburu, and that the pleasures of his society were shared by one whose recent departure I am now sorrowing over, — yet " not as others which have no hope;" one whose consistent Christian life leaves no room to doubt that she has entered into rest. I will try to give you, currente calamo, an outline, though it must be a very meagre one, of what you suggest to me. My earliest recollection of Dr. Rudd goes back to the year 1819, when I was a student of Divinity in New York, and he the Rector of a Church in Elizabeth- town, N. J. My familiar acquaintance with him, at that time, grew out of his great intimacy with Bishop Hobart's and Dr. Berrian's families, who were among my warmest friends. Dr. Rudd secured and retained the affection and esteem of all who knew him, by his kind and amiable dispositions, his courteous, genial manners, his generous nature, his large-hearted hospitalitj^. In person he was of about a medium height, with a strong frame and rather corpulent. His full, round, sunny face always lighted up with smiles, and the hearty shake of his hand told the sincerity of his friendship. As a preacher, he was rarely eloquent, but his sermons were marked with strong good sense, sound practical wisdom, and true piety, such as could not fail to command the attention of his hearers. As an instructor of youth, I believe he had few superiors; and it was an occu- pation in which he was long engaged and took great delight. His manners were such as to secure the love and esteem of boys and young men, and gave him wonderful success in their moral training. As the conducter of a religious journal, he was eminently successful. He not only evinced great ability, but great discretion and tact; "and for nothing per- haps was he more remarkable than his courtesy and kindness towards those who differed from him. While he was decided in his own opinions, he was willing to allow to others the hberty he claimed for himself. Between Dr. Rudd and Bishop Hobart there existed, f ,v nuuiy years, an affec- tionate intimacy. The Bishop, in his Address to his Coiivcution, shortly after the Doctor's removal to Auburn, made a most respectful allusion to him;, and it turned out in the course of providence that Dr. Rudd had the melancholy privi- lege of ministering at the Bishop's death-bed at his own house in Auburn. I regret that my circumstances do not permit me to render a more extended testimony to the memory of the excellent man concerning whom you inquire; but it gives me pleasure to bear even the humblest part in an effort to honour and perpetuate his memory. Believe me most respectfully and faithfully yours, B. DORR. JOHN CHURCHILL RUDD. 505 FROM THE RT. REV. G. W. DOANE, D. D., LL. D. KlTBKSiDE, August 9, 1858. My dear Dr. Sprague: Though I have already testified my good-will towards your work by contributing to it brief memorials of several of my departed friends, I cannot deny your request concerning Dr. Rudd, especially as my recollections of him are only such as it is a pleasure to me to communicate. If my acquain- tance with him was less intimate than with some others of whom your work will record my grateful remembrances, it was still sufficient to enable me freely to bear such a testimony concerning him as I suppose your request contemplates. It was sometime in 1820-21, that I first went to Elizabethtown. I had left the office of the eminent and venerable Richard Harrison, where I had been entered as a student of Law; and, having become a candidate for Holy Orders, was seeking employment for the support of myself and those whom my father's death had left dependant on me. Doctor Rudd had a school, and wanted an assistant. Bishop Hobart advised me to go there. He appointed to meet me at St. John's Parsonage; and did so. We spent the night there. Mr. Francis II. Gumming, who had been a pupil of Dr. Rudd's, now an eminent Doctor of the Church in Michigan, had just returned from a visit to " the far West," then, scarcely beyond Ohio. My dear old classmate and friend, of two and forty years, the Rev. Olarkson Dunn, was there as a teacher andstudent of Theology. Dr. Rudd had many such. And he was well fitted for that work. It was an evening to be remembered. Mrs. Rudd was charming in her person; and even more so, in her courtesy and hospitality. Dr. Rudd was the most genial host; a ready and agreeable talker; and with a manner the most cordial and attractive. And Bishop Hobart was what none but Bishop Hobart ever was. Such fervour! Such graciousness! Such tenderness! So simple mannered! Yet so wise; so brave; so great! Eloquent in look, in word, in gesture, in every thing! A torrent that carried every thing before it; but with banks so green, so flowery, and so fragrant, that it was delightful to be carried away by it. America has had no greater man. It was well said by Rufus King, who was his closest friend, that in whatever line of life he had chosen, he would have been the first. And yet he was greatest at his home, and by the hearth. And his greatest greatness was in his lovingness and childlikeness. Incomparable Bishop Hobart! Then so misunderstood and spoken against! The conversation was most animated and interesting — The West — The Church to be in the West — Agriculture — Academies — Politics — Theology — Life. Of course, the young men were but listeners. It had reached the small hours, when we went, reluctantly, to bed. A happier evening I have seldom spent. There was no happier house to spend it in. And none to make it happier tlian Dr. and Mrs. Rudd. Bishop Hobart was perfectly at home with them. He had come down from his beloved Short Hills to meet me there and spend the night. Early the next morning, he drove me to Jersey City. His conversation was most interesting. His counsels were most instructive. Among other things, he advi.sed me to read every day some portion of Bishop Home's Commentary on the Psalms. From the ferry, he gave me his cloak to carry home; playfully putting it on my shoulder. I thought of Paul's cloak which Timothy was to bring from Troas; and was happy, if not proud. I remained in New York to pursue my studies, and teach a private school. But I saw much of Dr. Rudd, and knew him well. There can scarcely be a higher praise than to say that he was, for many years, the confidential friend of Bishop Hobart. It was by a beautiful Providence that the Bishop died by his hearth, and on his heart, in that sweet Parsonage at Auburn. Dr. Rudd was self-educated. He was a successful teacher. He drew his pupils to him by his loving heart. As a Pastor, he was most faithful and accopt- VoL. V. 64 506 EPISCOPALIAN. able. Never vras Shepherd better loved by flock. A mural tablet, in St John's Church, Elizabeth, bears attestation of this. And he was an admirable Editor. The Churchman's Magazine which he conducted was most useful in its day. Well do I remember the light which it was wont to shed on what was then the Western frontier of the Church, — Geneva and parts adjacent. He conducted the Gospel Messenger most ably and influentially for many years. Few men have been better helpers of the Parish Clergy. He was wise and prudent; firm, yet moderate; and with an unction which took the heart. Though the last years of Dr. Rudd's life were spent in Western New York, his heart was always in New Jersey. He was present at the Convention in St. Mary's Church, Burlington, in 1847, and preached. He was charmed with St. Mary's Hall, and asked leave to shake the girls' hands for "good night" as they left the chapel. The Convention received him most cordially, and honoured him with many honours. And when the good old man looked back upon the 3'ears when he was one of the two or three Presbyters who often made up the Convention; and then round on the great company of the preachers that hung, with the beloved Laity, upon the words of wisdom and of love, which, like Nestor's, dropped in honey from his lips, the language of his heart was " Nunc dimittis, Domine!" "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace;" " for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." Very faithfully your friend, G. W. DOANE. JOHN REED, D. D * 1806—1845. John Reed, son of Martin and Mary (Dixon) Reed, was born at Wick- ford, R. I., about the year 1777. His father was, in some respects, a remarkable man. Being left an orphan at the age of seven years, he served a fourteen years' apprenticeship to the trade of a weaver, during which time he had the opportunity of attending school for only three months. By his great mental activity, however, in connection with his untiring industry and indomitable resolution, he succeeded, before he reached his majority, in educating himself sufficiently for all the purposes of an ordi- nary business life. Being resolved on distinguishing himself as a manu- facturer, he read, during his apprenticeship, all the books within his reach, having a bearing on the subject of manufactures, and occupied himself not a little in making drafts and plans of machinery for future use. On the expiration of his apprenticeship, he married a poor but excellent woman, and commenced life in the humblest manner ; but he was remark- ably prospered in his business, and in a short time became the principal manufacturer in the region. At an early period he became an intelligent and earnest Episcopalian, and attached himself to the Church under the Rectorship of the Rev. Mr. Payerweather.t To the interests of this church •Updike's Hist. Nari-ag. Ch.— MSS. from his son,— Eev. Dr. T. C. Eeed, and Eev. S. Buel. tSAMDisL Fayekwbather, a son of Thomas Fayerweather, was a native of Boston; was gvaduated at Harvard College in 1743; was ordained Pastor of the Second Congregational Church in Newport, R. I., in 1764; went to England for Episcopal ordination in]76C, and was ordained Deacon by Dr. I'earoe, Bishop of Bangor, March 14, and Priest by Dr. Osbaldeston, JOHN REED. 507 he was most warmly devoted, having charge of the church edifice, con- ducting the music and, for many years, while the parish had no Eector, reading the Morning Service in the Church, and the Service at Funerals. He was distinguished for shrewdness, energy, and moral courage. During several of his last years, he suffered from a paralytic affection, but retained his mental faculties in almost unabated vigour to the last. He died at the age of eighty-one. The subject of this sketch, while he was yet a youth, had his thoughts directed towards the ministry, and, as preparatory to that, towards a colle- giate education. When he mentioned the subject to his father, the old gentleman sighed and said, — " God grant that it may be so, but the want of means will forbid it." Taking counsel, however, of his pastor, the Kev. Dr. William Smith, the son, with nothing more than his father's consent and blessing, left home at the age of sixteen, to acquire the means of a liberal education by teaching a school. Providence smiled upon his efforts, and, having fitted for College under the Rev. Dr. Benedict of Plainfield, ho entered at Union, where he was graduated with the highest honours, in 1805. On leaving College, Mr. Reed applied himself to the study of Theo- logy, — to which, however, he had given more or less attention from very early life, — and on the 27th of May, 1806, he was admitted to Deacon's Orders by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Benjamin Moore. He was ordained Priest by the same Prelate, on the 17th of June, 1808. Shortly after his ordination as Deacon, he accepted an invitation to the Rectorship of St. Luke's Church, Catskill, N. Y. Here he remained until 1810 ; and on the 19th of August of that year he assumed the Rec- torship of Christ Church, Poughkeepsie. In this field he continued to be actively and usefully employed, during a period of thirty-five years. "He had the satisfaction," says the Rev. Samuel Buel, the present (1858) Rector of the Church, " of witnessing the steady growth and prosperity of his parish from the beginning to the end of his Rectorship." The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon Mr. Reed, by Columbia College, in 1822. Early in the year 1845, Dr. Reed's health had become so much enfeebled that a sermon he had prepared to be delivered on the third Sunday in Lent, was read by the Assistant Minister. It was afterwards published, by request of the Society, and is entitled " The Peace of Jerusalem." On the 15th of February he addressed a communication to the Wardens and Vestry of his Church, informing them of his inability to continue his labours, and requesting them to make the necessary provision for the supply of the pulpit ; to which they responded in a tone of the utmost respect and Bishop of Carlisle, March 25, of that year. In June, 1757, he arrived from England, and took charge of Prince George's Parish, Winyaw, S. C, where he remained ahout three years, and in July, 1760, was removed by the Society to the Mission at Narragansett, R. I., — the change having been made by his own request, and on account of the unhealthiness of the Southern climate. Here he continued to oflBciate regularly till near the close of 1774, when his congre- gation, being generally Whigs, objected to the use of Prayers for the King and Royal Family, and he, though regarded as personally a friend to the American cause, felt constrained by his ordination vows not to omit them. The church was consequently closed, though he occasionally preached in private houses until his death, which occurred in the summer of 1781. He is reputed to have been an able and popular preacher, and an admirable reader of the Church 'Service. He was honoured with the degree of Master of Arts from Yale and Columbia Colleges in this country, and from the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge in England. 508 EPISCOPALIAN. affection.. He was never able after this time to resume his labours. He died by a gradual process of decay, accompanied with two or three attacks of paralysis, one of which affected his head, and rendered him speechless the last week of his life. His death took place at Poughkeepsie, on the 6th of July, 1845, at the age of sixty-eight years. A Discourse, containing an affectionate and impressive tribute to his memory, was delivered at his Funeral, by the Eev. Dr. Brown of Newburgh. A tablet in the church, erected by the Vestry, records the high respect and veneration in which he was held by his parish. Dr. Reed published a small work in defence of Episcopacy, and one or two Sermons besides that already referred to. He was married in early life to Susan Robinson, of Plainfield, Conn. She died in 1832, leaving three children, — two sons and a daughter. He was subsequently married to Elizabeth Parkinson of Poughkeepsie, who survived him, and died on the 8th of May, 1858. There was no issue from the second marriage. One of Dr. Reed's sons, Thomas C, was graduated at Union College in 1826 ; was appointed Tutor in the College in 1831, Professor of Political Economy in 1834, Professor of Latin Language and Literature in 1849 ; resigned his Professorship in 1851 ; and is now at the head of a flourishing school at Geneva, N. Y. He is a clergyman of the Episcopal Church. President Nott, under whom Dr. Reed graduated, writes thus concern- ing him : — " During his entire life, he not only fulfilled the duties of his office to the satisfaction of a large and most respectable congregation, containing many learned and distinguished men, but he was considered a wise and pru- dent counsellor, and exerted a powerful and extensive influence in the measures adopted, and the acts performed, by the Church to which he belonged. He retained to the last his affectionate regard for his Alma Mater, and what was the charm of his character was, that, though a true Churchman, he never misrepresented the doctrines, or underrated the talents, or impugned the motives, of those who differed from him. Claiming in matters of faith to think for himself, he freely conceded the exercise of the same right to others, and ever recognised and treated other evan- gelical denominations as brethren in the bonds of a common Christianity, so that he not only lived to the end of his useful life in peace with all good men, but died lamented by the whole community." FROM THE REV. JOHN BROWN, D.D., REOTOE or ST. George's church, newbdrqh, n. y. Newburgh, July SO, 1858. My dear Sir: I cannot refuse you my recollections of the late Dr. Reed of Poughkeepsie; for while it gives me pleasure to pay a tribute to his memory, my acquaintance with him was probably more intimate^ and for a longer period, than that of any other of his surviving brethren. I knew him first in the latter part of the year 1812, while I was ofaciating as a lay reader at Fishkill; and subse- quently, as our places of residence were not remote from each other, our inter- course became very frequent, and as he was considerably ray senior, I looked up to him not only as a counsellor, but almost as a father. We often visited in JOHN EEED. 5Q9 each others' houses, and preached in each others' pulpits, and I think I may safely say that our mutual attachment gained strength with advancing years. It was my sad office to stand before his congregation, as their comforter and counsellor, the first time they assembled after their bereavement. Dr. Reed's personal appearance was every way manly and agreeable. He was rather above the medium height, but not stout, had a blue eye, sedate countenance, with an uncommonly amiable expression, and indicating withal a vigorous and well balanced mind. His manners were not the manners of the Court, but they were simple and unpretending, and breathed a most kindly spirit. His ordinary deportment was marked by thoughtfulness and gravity; and yet he knew how to unbend at suitable times, and when he was among his intimate acquaintances, he would often indulge in no small degree of play- fulness and good-humour. His mind was rather logical than imaginative. His perceptions of truth wore clear, and he generally succeeded in making his views clear to other minds. His mental processes were rather deliberate, and hence he rarely had occasion to reverse or set aside his conclusions. He was not only a careful observer of what was passing in the world around him, but he was also, for a parish minister, a diligent student — he kept himself acquainted with the various phases of theo- logical opinion which were developed during his ministry. As a preacher, he was not of the kind to attract the multitude; but his sermons were sensible, well-reasoned, and to the docile and reflecting hearer highly acceptable. His manner, in the pulpit, as out of it, was simple, but always solemn and impressive. You felt that it was a man of God who was standing before you, and you could not doubt that his heart was in his message. Dr. Reed was eminently qualified to be a good pastor. His kindly and gentle manner made him alike welcome in scenes of sorrow and of joy; and while his presence never repressed innocent enjoyment, it was sure to be a balm to the wounded heart. His excellent judgment and great prudence made him an admirable counsellor: and such was the confidence which his people reposed in him that they were never slow to avail themselves of the aid of his wisdom and kindness. And these same qualities gave him great influence beyond the more immediate sphere of his labours. His brethren in the ministry attached great importance to his opinion; and it may safely be said that he was among the more influential ministers of the Diocese. The type of his Churchmanship was, I suppose, as nearly like that of Bishop Hobart as of any other man. He was an Episcopalian, not only from education, but from thorough conviction, and attached great importance to his own denominational views; but he was willing that others should enjoy the liberty which he claimed for himself, — that of judging and acting for themselves. I may add that he always stood firm to his own con- victions in every thing. The whole community regarded him with respect and good-will while he lived, and mourned for him when he died. I will only add that, as this venerable man approached the close of his career, his mind took on a still deeper tone of spirituality, and he was evidently waiting in faith and patience for the hour of his departure. He clung too with increased avidity to the Services of the Church, and he did not hesitate to say that, even in his secret devotions, his heart flowed forth most freely through the medium of these consecrated forms with which he had been famihar through his whole life. It was delightful in all this to witness the upward tendency of his afiec- tions. His whole demeanour showed that his best treasure was in Heaven. Very respectfully yours, JOHN BROWN. 510 EPISCOPALIAN. RT. REV. CHRISTOPHER E. GADSDEN, D. D.* 1807—1852. Cheistopher Edwards Gadsden, the eldest son of Philip and Cath- arine (Edwards) Gadsden, was born in Charleston, S. C, on the 25th of November, 1785. He was honourably descended on both sides ; his pater- nal grandfather, General Christopher Gadsden, having ranked among the heroes of the Revolution, and his maternal grandfather also, John Edwards, having been honourably connected with the history of the same period. Both these gentlemen were distinguished not only for patriotism, but for general integrity and strength of purpose ; and these latter qualities par- ticularly were strikingly reproduced in the subject of this notice. At an early age, he was sent to a school in Charleston, which then enjoyed a high reputation, known as the " Associate Academy ;" and in this school he continued till he was prepared to enter College. Though the discipline was extremely severe, and he was naturally of a somewhat impetuous temper, yet so much was he under the control of high moral principle that he seems never to have been brought into collision with any of his teachers. It does not appear that there was any particular period when he became the subject of any great visible change of character; but, from childhood, he was thoughtful, conscientious, devout, and resolute in doing what he believed to be his duty. It would seem that he had his eye upon the ministry from a very early period. His early training was partly under an Episcopal, and partly under a Congregational, influence ; his father belonging to the former, his mother, and a maiden aunt, who had also much to do with his education, to the latter, denomination. There was a corresponding division of his Sabbaths between the two denominations — in the morning he was accustomed to attend St. Philip's Church, with his father and grandfather ; in the after- noon, the Congregational Church, with his mother and aunt. But, not- withstanding these early conflicting influences, his mind seems, from the beginning, to have taken the Episcopal direction ; and the result of all his inquiries on the subject was an undoubting conviction of the Scriptural authority of the doctrine and order of the Episcopal Church. In 1802, he joined the Junior class in Yale College. He was here, as he had been before, studious in his habits, and exemplary in all his deport- ment ; and he passed through the ordeal of college life, unscathed. He graduated with honour in the year 1804. He was a member of the same class with John C. Calhoun ; and the mutual friendship which they then formed, continued unabated after the one had become a Bishop, and the other an illustrious Statesman. Calhoun was buried in the cemetery of St. Philip's ; and it devolved upon his early friend to utter the last words that were spoken over his lifeless remains. On his return from College in 1804, Mr. Gadsden was surprised to find that the fortunes of his family had undergone a sad reverse. The large •Sketch of the Life and Character of Bishop Gadsden.— Daloho's Ch. S. C— Blake's Biog. Diet. — Campbell's Fun. Serm.— MS. from the Rev. C. P. Gadsden. CHRISTOPHER E. GADSDEN. 511 expected inheritance from his grandfather had all been lost through the failure of his sons ; and his father was actually reduced to poverty, and stripped of every thing. Under these circumstances, he felt constrained to enter the ministry without unnecessary delay ; for though he would have preferred a more careful and laborious preparation, his strong sense of filial duty recognised the claim that was made upon him by the necessities of his parents, as too powerful to be resisted. And he could the better afford to forego a mature preparation, from the fact that much of his pre- vious reading had been of a theological and religious character. He was ordained Deacon on the 25th of July, 1807, by Bishop Moore of New York. In January, 1808, he was elected to the charge of the ancient Parish of St. John's, Berkley, situated among the rich plantations of Cooper Kiver. After continuing here a little more than two years, he resigned his charge, February, 1810, to become Assistant Minister of St. Philip's Church, Charleston, in connection with which he spent the residue of his life. While in charge of the Parish of St. John's, and for some time after he became Assistant at St. Philip's, in consideration of the pecuniary embarrassments of his family, he took charge of a number of pupils, among whom were some who have since risen to distinction. In April, 1810, he was ordained Priest by Bishop Madison of Virginia. Many of the congregations existing in the Diocese before the Hevolution, had become scattered, and the ancient places of worship were in ruins. Mr. Gradsden's attention was particularly directed to the repairing of these desolations ; and in this he was warmly and ably seconded by Dr. Dehon, who had accepted the Rectorship of St. Michael's Church in Charleston, in 1809. In 1810, he had an important agency in founding the Protestant Episcopal Society for the advancement of Christianity in South Carolina — an institution which has since proved an important auxiliary to both cleri- cal education and missionary effort. Of this Society Mr. Gadsden was, from the first, a Trustee and ardent friend, and from 1840 to his death, was, ex officio, President. On the death of the Rev. Mr. Simons, in 1814, Mr. G-adsden became Rector -of St. Philip's Church, Charleston, the oldest, and perhaps the most important, congregation in the Diocese. Here he laboured with untiring diligence and zeal, and with much acceptance and success. In 1815, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by South Carolina College. On the death of Bishop Bowen, in 1839, the Diocese, owing to certain causes which had been for some time in operation, was in a somewhat dis- tracted state ; and when his successor was to be elected in 1840, there were two parties in the Church, each of which had its candidate. Dr. Gadsden was the candidate of one party, and was elected, by a small majority of the Clergy, and a large one of the Laity. After the adjournment of the Convention for the day, he called the Clergy around the chancel, and taking his stand by the altar, addressed them in a brief but pathetic speech, in which he declared that he had no personal ambition in regard to the office, that he was concerned only for the best interests of the Church, and pro- posed that the Clergy should unite in nominating some third man, (as nearly as possible acceptable to all,) in whose favour he would gladly decline 512 EPISCOPA.LIAN. the office. It is hardly necessary to say that this magnanimous expression had a most conciliatory effect ; and after this, there seemed to be a general acquiescence in his election. His Consecration at Charleston having been providentially prevented, he was consecrated at Trinity Church, Boston, on the 21st of June, 1840, by Bishop Griswold, of the Eastern Diocese, assisted by Bishop Doane of New Jersey, and Bishop M'Coskry of Michigan. The Sermon on the occa- sion was preached by Bishop Doane. Bishop Gadsden returned to South Carolina immediately after his Con- secration, and commenced his duties with his usual diligence and earnest- ness. On the 9th of September, 1840, he held his first Confirmation in St. Michael's Church, Charleston, when a hundred and twenty-six, of whom not less than twenty or thirty were coloured persons, became subjects of that rite. As soon as the sickly season was past, during which it is reckoned unsafe to visit the low country in South Carolina, the Bishop commenced his tour through the Diocese ; and from that time usually visited the more accessi- ble congregations once a year, and the less accessible once in two years. He was everywhere greeted with expressions of the most cordial good- will. On these visitations, he was particularly attentive to the coloured people, — availing himself of every opportunity to collect as many of them as he could for purposes of devotion and instruction. In this way he not only exerted a powerful direct influence, but set an example to his Presby- ters and Deacons, which was extensively followed, and with very happy effects. He was actively engaged in his duties as both Bishop of the Diocese, and Rector of St. Philip's, until February, 1852. He had been ill for some weeks before, and the previous Sunday had not occupied his pulpit ; but, possessing great natural resolution and energy, as soon as he began to feel better, he returned to his work. The first effort he made proved too much for him, and his disease, which was an affection of the kidneys, now took on a more threatening form. The Convention of the Diocese met in Colum- bia, on the 11th of February, and it was hoped that he would have been able to attend ; but he found himself too feeble to attempt it, and accord- ingly sent his Address, which was read by another, and exhibited great activity in the Episcopate during the preceding year. He made no special reference in it to the state of his health, and when he prepared it, expected to have delivered it in person ; but it was supposed that it was with an impres- sion of his approaching end, that he concluded it with the words, — "Finally, Brethren, farewell. Be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace, and the God of love and peace shall be with you. Amen." These were his last official words to his Diocese. From this date until his death, he lingered in great weakness of body, suffering quietly and patiently the will of his Heavenly Father. A portion of this time he spent at his brother's plantation on the Santee River, but returned home a few weeks before his death, that he might finish his course among his own people. He died at his residence in Charleston, on the 24th of June, 1852, aged sixty-eight, and was buried two days after, under the Com- munion table, in the chancel of St. Philip's. A Funeral Sermon was preached by the Rev. John Barnwell Campbell, and was published CHRISTOPHER E. GADSDEN. 513 Bishop Gadsden published a Sermon occasioned by the death of the Et. Rev. Bishop Dehon, 1833 ; an Essay on the Life of the same, 1833 ; a Tract entitled " The Prayer Book as it is ; three Charges to his Clergy, entitled respectively "The Times Morally considered" — "The Times Ecclesiastically considered " — " The Times Theologically considered;" a Sermon on the Death of Bishop Bowen, 1839 ; and perhaps some other occasional Sermons. He also edited the Gospel Messenger, which con- tained many contributions from his own pen. On the 8th of October, 1816, he was married to Eliza A. Bowman, of Charleston. She died in October, 1826. On the 11th of February, 1830, he was married, the second time, to Jane Dewees, youngest daughter of William Dewees of Charleston. The first marriage was without issue. By the second he had eight children, three of whom died in infancy. FROM JOSEPH JOHNSON, M. D. Charleston, December 7, 1857. Eev. and dear Sir: I cheerfully comply with your request in giving you a few of my recollections of the late Rt. Rev. Bishop Gadsden. I remember him from his childhood; and even then I admired him for his studious, unostentatious, and apparently devout habit. After he had been graduated at College, and ordained to the work of the ministry, the same unaf- fected, unassuming manner was equally apparent — it came out in his counte- nance, his conversation, his general air — in every thing that he said and every thing that he did. When he became our Pastor, he endeared himself to u& greatly by his friendly and social visits in our domestic circles. In his ofBcial duties he was firm and inflexible as to every thing that he regarded of essential obligation, but not unreasonably pertinacious in regard to smaller matters. When I arrived at middle age, I spoke to him about my admission to the Com- munion table; and he at once inquired if I had been confirmed. I told him L had not, as to the formalities of Episcopacy; but, having endeavoured to fulfil the promises made for me in Baptism, I now wished to obey our Saviour's dying command. He replied that Confirmation was a highly valuable religious rite; but that he did not, in every case, deem it indispensable; and I was therefore received at once as a communicant. And so also was one of the Bishop's brothers — as the whole course of his life had been exemplary, it was thought there could be no good reason for his exclusion from this impressive ceremony. In respect to the public teachers of Religion, Bishop Gadsden insisted much on their having the very best advantages for education that were within their- reach. Having himself acquired his preparation for the ministry at the Theo- logical Seminary of New York, he always gave that institution the precedence of any other, and advised all candidates for the ministry to resort to it, who had the opportunity. When my son, the Rev. Robert P. Johnson, of Virginia,, applied to him for an introduction to the Theological Seminary, near Alexandria, Va., so decided was his preference for New York that he declined a compliance with his request; though my son obtained the necessary introduction from the Bishop of Virginia, was educated there, and was ordained as one of that Diocese. The same thing occurred in respect to Bishop Gadsden's own nephew, the only son of his brother John, — the present admired Assistant Minister of St. Philip's Church in this city — the Bishop strongly urged his going to the New York Semi- nary; but this was respectfully declined, and without any offence, and the usual long course of studies in private successfully pursued. When at Yale College, my Right Reverend friend was a member of the same class with our deceased statesman, John C. Calhoun. They were mutually Vol. V. 65 5X4 EnSCOPALIAN. attached at that time, and continued so through life. "When Bishop Gadsden was confined by his last long illness, Mr. Calhoun's last publication appeared, and the Bishop would sit reading it by the hour, bolstered up in his bed or easy chair. On one occasion, liis brother. Col. James Gadsden, hearing that the Bishop was worse, called to see him, but found him relieved for the time, and sitting up, as has been stated, reading Calhoun's Remarks. On his entering the chamber, instead of the usual salutation, the Bishop exclaimed to him — " Oh James, I am delighted to find that our friend Calhoun was a true believer and a good Christian." lie died a few days afterwards. On the whole, I may say that Bishop Gadsden was a man of excellent talents, excellent education, and excellent spirit. He was especially distinguished for his humility, self-denial, and diligence in his work. Both as a Parish Minister and a Bishop, he will be held in grateful and enduring remembrance. Very respectfully yours, JOSEPH JOHNSON. FROM THE RET. THOMAS H. TAYLOR, D. D., RECTOK OF GRACE CHURCH, NEW YORK. New York, April 2, 1858. My dear Sir : My earliest recollection of the Rev. Christopher E. Gadsden extends back to the period of my boyhood, when, in the year 1813, he aocom- ■ panied Bishop Dehon, on the first visit of that Bishop to my native town. In the year 1821, I preached my first sermon in Dr. Gadsden's Church; and from that time to the year 1834, when I removed from the State, I was more or less frequently, and more or less closely, in intercourse and correspondence with him, and can bear the most cheerful testimony to the unflagging zeal with which he was forever striving to fulfil the Apostle's injunction to be " always abounding in the work of the Lord." Bishop Gadsden was a Scholar and a Gentleman; but was slight in stature, and by no means imposing in his personal appearance. The ordinary expression of his face was that of considerable dejection and sadness; and yet no contrast could be greater than when, in his playful moments, he would make the room ring with his joyous laugh. In the matter of dress he was proverbially careless, and whether his garments fitted him or not, I do not believe he considered a question sufficiently important ever to spend a thought upon it. In this respect he differed most widely from his dearest earthly friend. Bishop Dehon, who, in his personal apparel, was so neat as to border on precision. Bishop Gadsden's voice could not be said to be either powerful or musical, and his pronunciation was not always in accordance with the most approved authority — still there was a simplicity and earnestness in his utterance which could not fail to impress the hearer with the conviction that he was an honest- hearted and truth loving man. I have heard that his worthy mother was of Puritan blood, and always wor- shipped in a Congregational meeting-house, while his father was a devout Church of England man. And certainly there was in the character of the good Bishop a somewhat singular blending of the Puritan and the High Churchman. In his reverence for the Sabbath you could hardly find one who would go beyond him; while in his conscientiousness as a Churchman, he would have gone to the stake and defied the flames sooner than violate a Rubric. I am, my dear Sir, Very truly yours, T. H. TAYLOR. WILLIAM H. WILMER. 5^5 WILLIAM H. WILMER, D. D* 1808—1827. William H. "Wilmek, the fifth son of Simon and Ann Wilmer, was born in Kent County, on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, on the 29th of October, 1782. He received his education at Washington College, in that county, and was subsequently, for some time, engaged in mercantile busi- ness. This, however, in obedience to his strong convictions, he abandoned, and directed his attention to the sacred ministry. Having gone through the requisite course of preparation, he was ordained by Bishop Claggett in 1808, and was immediately appointed to the charge of Chester Parish, Md., which was then vacant. In 1811, he was placed by the Convention of the Diocese on the Standing Committee. Having received a call to St. Paul's Church, Alexandria, Va., in 1812, he resigned his parish at Chestertown, and removed to his new charge. Such was the success of his ministry here, that in less than four years, a larger edifice became necessary to accommodate the congregation ; in consequence of which the present St. Paul's was erected and consecrated in 1818. Immediately on his removal, he was placed on the Standing Committee of the Diocese of Virginia, and continued an active member while he remained in Alexandria. He had much to do in securing the election of Dr. Richard Channing Moore to the Episcopate, and in this and other ways had an important agency in resuscitating the Episcopal Church of Virginia. In 1818, he was one of the originators of the Education Society of the Dis- trict of Columbia, which has aided in preparing for the ministry a large number of young men at the Theological Seminary in Fairfax County. Of this Society he was President until his removal from Alexandria. In 1816, on the building of St. John's Church in Washington City, he was elected its first Rector ; and though he did not accept the place, he supplied the church, sometimes by his own services, and sometimes by securing those of others, until a Rector could be obtained. In 1819 was commenced the publication of the Washington Theological Repertory. Of this he was one of the editors, and he furnished many of its leading articles until 1826. He was a delegate of every General Con- vention after his removal to Virginia till the close of his life ; and in 1820, 1821, 1823, and 1826, he was the President of the House of Clerical and Lay Deputies of that Body. In 1820 he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Brown University. When the Theological Semi- nary of Virginia went into operation in Alexandria, in 1823, he filled the Chair of Systematic Theology, Ecclesiastical History, and Church Polity. In the spring of 1826, he was chosen to be Assistant Rector of Bishop Moore in the Monumental Church, at Richmond ; but so important were his services held to be in the Seminary, that he was induced by his friends to decline the call. But in a few months after, he was appointed President » MSS. from Kev. Dr. Ethan Allen, Rev. K. H. Wilmer, Rev. Samnel Buel, and Dr. P. Wroth. 516 EPISCOPALIAN. of William and Mary College, and Keotor of the church at Williamsburg. In less than a year from the time of his entrance on his duties there, he was summoned to his rest. He died on the 24th of July, 1827, of a dis- tressing bilious or congestive fever, at the age of about forty-three. He was buried under the chancel of the parish church. The inhabitants of the town put on badges of mourning and defrayed his funeral expenses. Dr. Wilmer was married three times. His first wife was Harriet Eing- gold, from the Eastern Shore of Maryland, who died leaving no children. His second wife, to whom he was married on the 23d of January, 1812, was Marion H. Cox, daughter of Kichard and Mary Cox, of New Jersey. She died on the 15th of September, 1821, the mother of six children, — two sons who became clergymen, and two daughters who became clergy- men's wives. He was subsequently married a third time to Anne B. Fitz- hugh, of Alexandria, by whom he had three children. This lady survived him many years and died on the 25th of December, 1855. An elder brother of Dr. Wilmer was the Rev. Simon Wilmer, who was settled for many years in Swedesborough, N. J., and afterwards in Mary- land — his son is now Rector of St. Mark's, Philadelphia. A younger brother (Lemuel) is now Rector of Portobaceo Parish, Charles County, Md., and has been for upwards of five and thirty years. His uncle, James J. Wilmer, was a clergyman before and subsequent to the Revolution, in Maryland. He was a Whig, and at the first meeting of the Clergy in 1783, was its Secretary. It was on his motion, that the then Church of England in the Colonies adopted the name of the Protestant Episcopal Church. Dr. Wilmer published a Sermon preached before the Military Brigade of Alexandria, on the Fourth of July, 1813 ; a Sermon before the Conven- tion of the Diocese in Richmond, 1814; Episcopal Manual, 12mo., 1815 ; a Sermon on the death of Bishop Claggett of Maryland, 1816 ; a Contro- versy with Baxter, a Jesuit Priest, 1818 ; a Sermon entitled " The Almost Christian," 1818 ; a Sermon on the Anniversary of John the Baptist, 1820. It is said that a volume highly creditable to his memory might be formed from his contributions to the Theological Repository. It was my privilege to be tolerably well acquainted with Dr. Wilmer in 1815 and 1816, and to be a frequent attendant on his preaching. He was often a visitor in a family in which I lived, in the neighbourhood of Alex- andria, and he was always greeted with the most respectful and cordial welcome. He had a calm dignity, a gentle and gentlemanly bearing, which commanded every body's respect, and a devout and earnest Christian spirit that made itself felt as a quickening and elevating influence in every circle. His preaching was characterized by great simplicity and plain- ness—his manner was fervent without being impetuous ; impressive with- out being oratorical ; and the staple of his sermons was well matured evangelical thought. I remember that he read the Service with great solemnity, and the prayer after the Sermon was usually, if not uniformly, extemporaneous— always short, but remarkably appropriate and recapitu- lating the leading thoughts of his discourse. He was much attached to his venerable neighbour. Dr. Muir, of the Presbyterian Church, who, in turn, regarded him with an almost paternal affection. While each held to WILLIAM H. WILMER. ^I'J his distinctive denominational peculiarities, they mingled together freely in many religious services, and came nearer to what may be called ministerial intercourse, — perhaps than was common then, — certainly than is common now. Though more than forty years have passed since I saw Dr. Wilmer, his urbane manners, his amiable and devout spirit, his fine manly character, and his instructive and well written discourses, have served always to keep him in my remembrance as an admirable model of a Christian Minister. FROM THE REV. ETHAN ALLEN, D. D. Baltimore, January 7, 1856. Rev. and dear Sir: My acquaintance with the Rev. William H. Wilmer, D. D., commeuced very soon after my admission into the ministry in 1819. In the fall of that year, I accompanied him on a missionary visit through the Northern Neck of Virginia, during a fortnight; and, riding in the same carriage and sleep- ing in the same room with him, I had an opportunity to know him well, and I thus became strongly attached to him. During the three following years, I was much at his house, and often for several days at a time, my church being only four or five miles distant from his residence. Indeed I saw much of him till his removal from Alexandria. His frank, free and full expression of his opinions, together with his judicious advice on many points, had perhaps more influence in forming my own course and character than was exerted by any other individual. In my estimate of his character, therefore, you must perhaps allow something to the partiality of an intimate friendship. Dr. Wilmer was in person not above the middle height, was rather deliberate in his movements, and bland and dignified in his manners. He had a sound, discriminating and well furnished mind, and a most kindly and gentle spirit, which made him at once a most interesting and instructive companion, as well as an edifying and highly acceptable preacher. Without any th4ng like oflBcial airs, or distance, or reserve, he always remembered his high vocation, and behaved agreeably to it; insomuch that the most critical and exacting in such matters would find it difficult to fasten upon any thing in his social conduct that could be pronounced of even dubious propriety. Indeed he combined the Chris- tian gentleman, the able and faithful preacher, the unwearied pastor, the affec- tionate and disinterested friend, in as high degree as you will often meet with in any communion. He was very widely looked to as the then future Bishop of Virginia. During the missionary tour which I shared with him, already referred to, I was greatly impressed by the manifest depth and fervour of his piety. There was nothing in it that seemed artificial or put on for the occasion; but it was natural, cheerful, uniform. He was very fond of singing hymns; and it was thus we beguiled many an otherwise tedious hour, as we pursued our lonely way through the deep sands of lower Virginia. We were entertained by the old and stately aristocracy then remaining, who had a cherished remembrance of the old Church, the walls of whose edifices were then for the most part roofless or scat- tered on the ground; but I never knew him fail, wherever he might be, of having morning and evening family prayer, or of addressing a few words of Christian counsel or exhortation to the family on parting with them. He seemed to be habitually impressed with a deep sense of his responsibility as a minister, and to be ever watchful for opportunities of guiding souls to the Saviour. He was pecu- liarly happy in his addresses to the young, and while he attracted them to him by his amiable and winning manner, he was sure to drop some word of appro- priate counsel, which would be likely to unfold to their subsequent reflections in a lesson of deep practical wisdom. 518 EPISCOPALIAN. I will only add the following extract fiom Bishop Moore's Address to the Con- vention immediately succeeding his death: — ^" lie was one of those who first called my attention to this Diocese — to his usefulness all must subscribe. He was a man of business and of piety. Ho loved his God, and the interest of the Church was near his heart. As a preacher, he was faithful, energetic, eloquent. He was the friend of evangelical religion, and considered that the strictest regard to the public order of the Church was perfectly compatible with the most ani- mated social worship in the houses of his parishioners and friends. His private meetings formed, in his opinion, the nursery of the Church, and were blessed to the edification and comfort of all. He was always ready to discharge his duty. Like the Apostle Paul, he not only taught his people publicly, but from house to house, exhorting them to prepare to meet their God." With great regard, Your brother in Christ, ETHAN ALLEN. FROM THE REV. CHARLES MANN, REOTOK or ABINGDON AND WARE PARISHES, VA. Gloucester Court House, Va., ? July 16, 1858. J Rev. and dear Sir : My recollections of Dr. "Wilmer, in points which would best illustrate his character, are so mingled with incidents in which others were concerned, that I could not with propriety give them to the public; but I have some general impressions of his character which I am willing to communi- cate, and which you are at liberty to use at your discretion. My acquaintance with Dr. Wilmer commenced in 1819 — he was at that time Rector of St. Paul's Church, Alexandria. My parish was situated on the Poto- mac, about forty miles below. I soon found myself in need of some wise and good man, to adF'se me in the difBculties which surrounded a young minister, and in Dr. Wilmer secured all I could desire, — a man of learning, of talents, and wisdom. If I was now asked for what I considered him most remarkable, I should say, for his thorough knowledge of human nature, — his power of read- ing individual character. I frequently joined him in excursions through the lower part of the Diocese, when Bishop Meade and himself were endeavouring to resus- citate our decayed churches. On such occasions, he often surprised me by his happy talent in leading conversation, in mixed companies, to the most serious and important subjects of religion and morals — his happy manner of rebuking the levity with which the subject would sometimes be met, and administering rebuke so as to silence the offender, and yet render it impossible for him to dis- play any anger or displeasure he might have felt. In these excursions, he drew around him crowds of all classes and denominations, — for all were acquainted with his character as a man, and his reputation as n preacher. Though his object was to ascertain the state of the old parishes, and to awaken interest in the friends of the Episcopal Church, he never made the external organization of the Church, or the peculiarities of her services, the subjects of his addresses from the pulpit — he preached the Gospel as the best method of reviving interest in the hearts ofher friends, and breaking down prejudices in the minds of others; and the Church in all that region will now bear testimony to the wisdom of his course. Such was the fascination of his pulpit talents that, on one occasion, a Baptist preacher of great popularity and worth, followed him through two or three counties, and raised the hymns for him on every occasion of public wor- ship. In these excursions, he was necessarily thrown much in the company of members of other Churches, and never failed to leave decided impressions in ftivour of his own. Some years since, it was remarked to me at Williamsburg, ■WILLIAM H. ■WILMER. 5I9 that had his life been spared, there would haye been but one church in the old city. Whilst President of the College, and Rector of Bruton Parish, he visited every house in the town, without distinction of creeds, and never left one with- out having made impressions upon the family, most favourable both to religion and the Church with which he was connected. He abounded in anecdote, and illustrated almost every subject by some incident which was fitted to leave an impression on the minds and hearts of his hearers by which they might be bene- fitted, long after the impressions made by the wisest discourse would have faded away. The position as President of William and Mary College was one for which his previous habits and pursuits did not seem to fit him; but he met all its duties in such a manner as to give the strongest hopes of restoring the ancient seat of learning to its former high position among the Colleges of the Union. On the last occasion on which we met, I asked him how lie had succeeded, in so short a time, in meeting the requisitions of his new and novel position. His reply is well worthy of being remembered — " By hard study — the year will be one of severe labour between the College and tlie Church — then I may hope for some relaxation." But he did not live to enjoy it. You are aware that his youngest son is filling acceptably his father's place as Rector of Bruton, — now entirely freed from its former connection with the College; and that another son, who has inherited much of his father's power of discriminating character, is usefully engaged in another parish of this Diocese. I regret that I am not able to contribute something of more value, and I send what I have written simply as an evidence of my appreciation of the important work in which you are engaged. Very respectfully, your friend and brother in Christ, CHARLES MANN. DANIEL STEPHENS, D. D. 1809—1850. FROM THE RT. REV. JAMES H. OTET, D. D. BISHOP OF THE DIOCESE OF TENNESSEE. Memphis, July 6, 1858. Daniel Stephens, the eldest of a large family of children, was the son of Abednego Stephens and Catharine Mills his wife, and was born on his father's farm on Licking Creek, in Bedford County, Pa., in April, 1778. His grandfather, Richard Stephens, emigrated, it is believed, from Wales, and settled first in Bucks County, and afterwards in Bedford, where he died, leaving a large family of children, of whom Abednego was one. Although the family were generally of the Church of England, Abednego became a Baptist, and was a leading and influential man in that denomina- tion in his region of country. On hia farm Daniel worked as a labourer, until his twentieth year, receiving such education as could be obtained in the country schools common at that time. He made such good use, how- ever, of his opportunities as to become a practical surveyor, and respectable English scholar. At the age of nineteen, he became a member of the Baptist Church. 520 EPISCOPALIAN. During this period his reading was confined chiefly to the Bible, the Baptist Catechism, Hervey's Meditations, Toplady on Predestination, and Milton's Poems. Much to the satisfaction of his parents, he declared his intention to prepare for the ministry. With that view, he was first sent abroad to school at the age of twenty. He commenced the study of Latin under Mr. Howell, a Baptist minister, near Hancock Town, Md.; but was soon transferred to the school of Dr. Lang in McConnell's Town, Pa. After a year at that place, he was sent to Mr. Borland at Grreencastle, in Franklin county, where he remained two years, until Mr. Borland's election to a Professorship in Dickinson College. He then spent a year with the Rev. Mr. Dobbin, at Gettysburg; and returned home. In these schools he studied with intense application, the Latin, Greek and Hebrew Lan- guages ; and laid the foundation of that accurate and thorough classical scholarship for which he was afterwards distinguished. He now entered Jefferson College at Cannonsburg, Pa., at the age of twenty-five. After the first year, he was appointed Tutor of ancient lan- guages ; and besides performing the duties of that office, he kept up with the recitations of the Senior class of which he was a member ; and during one session pursued the study of Divinity under Dr. McMillan, — thus per- forming the labour of three occupations, any one of which is usually thought sufficient for ordinary endurance. But with these heavy duties, he graduated, at the end of two years, in 1805, with the highest honours. Returning home, bis father desired that he should embark at once in the ministry ; but he determined to study longer, and in the mean time to teach a school. With that view he visited the Eastern shore of Maryland, and engaged for a year in the family of Henry Nicols, near Easton, during which time he received a diploma ad eiindem from Princeton College. He then took a school in Easton, where he made the acquaintance of the Epis- copal minister, Mr. Jackson,* who kindly gave him access to his library. His reading being now more extensive, and the field of his vision much enlarged, he was attracted by the claims of the Episcopal Church, and entered at once upon an investigation of her doctrines, order and worship. After much reflection, and with a painful struggle, he determined to dis- solve his connection with the Baptists, and to apply for Orders in the Episcopal Church. He pursued the study of Divinity under Mr. Jackson, and Mr. (after- wards Bishop) Kemp. While thus engaged, he was married, in June, 1808, to Margaret Wingate, a young widow whose maiden name was Meeds. She * Joseph Jackson was born at Appleby, England. He was sent to this oountry by the Rev. Mr. Boucher, to take charge of the education of the children of a relative of his in Prince George's County, Md. In October, ITM, he was admitted to Holy Orders by Bishop Claegett. Having officiated for two years near where he had been residing, he became, in 1796 the Keo- tor of St. Peter's Parish, Talbot County, which included Easton, the County seat. Here, as a faithful and devoted pastor, he remained fourteen years, and then became the Rector of William and Mary, and St. Andrew's Parishes, St. Mary's County. Here he continued four years, where his ministry left an abiding impression. Early in 1817, he became a missionary to the West, and visited Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and Kentucky— the journal of his ministrations in ihese parts still remains. He returned in the fall, but remained for only a short time. In 1819 Ihe went to Kentucliy, and settled at Bardstown, where he died, within a year. " From his savings and self-denial, he left at his death a legacy to the purposes of Christian Education in Maryland, which, in 1840, amounted to near two thousand dollars. And this formed the nucleus of St. James' College, to which it was devoted. DANIEL STEPHENS. 521 was the great-granddaughter of the Rev. Henry Nicols,* a Missionary under the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign parts. Mr. Stephens was ordained Deacon by Bishop Claggett, at Upper Marl- borough, in St. Mary's County, in February, 1809, in company with his dear and long tried friend, William H. Wilmer, D. D. Besides the ordi- nary difficulties which he encountered in changing his ecclesiastical alle- giance, he met with the most determined opposition from his father, who, being a man of some property, disinherited him for this desertion of the Baptist Church. Upon his ordination, he removed to Chestertown, and taught in Washington College, and preached acceptably at Church Hill and other places. In 1810, at a Convention in Baltimore, he was ordained Priest by Bishop Claggett. He afterwards removed to Centreville, Queen Ann's County, where he had charge of a flourishing Academy, and two parishes. Here he remained about four years, and finding that his health required a change of location, he moved to Havre de Grace, in Harford County, where he preached for four years, and where his memory is still fondly cherished. During his residence here, he declined an offer of the Professorship of Ancient Languages in St. John's College, Annapolis. He then accepted a call to the charge of the Church at Staunton, Va., where he remained until 1828. In 1820, he received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the Univetsity of Pennsylvania. His ministerial labours in Staunton were highly appreciated. His gentle and modest manners, his quiet and unobtrusive piety, his good sense and profound learning, and his earnest and faithful preaching, secured him the affection of his own flock, and the esteem of the entire community. Tolerant of the opinions of others, he was unflinching in the maintenance of his own; and averse as he was to controversy, the doctrines, discipline and worship of the Episcopal Church had few abler or more willing defenders than he was. After a short residence in Fincastle, Va., he accepted a call to St. Peter's Church, Columbia, Tenn., in the summer of 1829. On his arrival, he found but two ministers of his own faith, in the whole State, — Mr. Davis at Nashville, and myself, then at Franklin. The first Convention of the Church was held at Franklin on the 1st of July, 1829, when these three clergymen, with a small band of laymen, assisted by Bishop Ravens- croft, then on a visit to the churches in Tennessee, organized the Diocese and framed a Constitution for its government. Thenceforward he took an active part in the Conventions, the legislation, and the general improvement of the Diocese. He was in the Convention at Franklin, in 1833, and assisted in the election of the present Bishop. Removing to Bolivar, Tenn., in 1833, he organized the parish of St. James, and preached the first sermon ever delivered in that county by a minister of his Church. Outside of his own family, he had only three or four communicants to begin with. For several years, • The Rev. Heitry Niooi.3 was a Fellow of Jesus College, Oxford, and was sent out by the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts in 1703 to Pennsylvania, where he ministered at Chester, twenty miles below Philadelphia on the Delaware, and sometimes at Concord. In 1708, at the age of twenty -nine, he removed to Maryland, and became the incum- bent of St. Michaels Parish, Talbot County, and there continued till his death, February 12, 1749, having been a highly acceptable pastor there forty-one years. He was buried in St. Michael s Church, and over his grave is a marble slab, with a Latin inscription written by him- self. He left sons and daughters, whose descendants are yet in the parish, and an honour to his name. Vol. V. GO 522 EPISCOPALIAN. the only place in the village where public worship could be held, was the Court-House ; but he had the pleasure at last to witness the completion of a neat church, and once more to conduct the services of the sanctuary in a building consecrated to that purpose. In 1837, by request of the Bishop, he preached a sermon at the ordination of his own son, Abednego, and of Kev. M. L. Forbes, in Christ Church, Nashville. This sermon was pub- lished by request, and was regarded as a model of Gospel simplicity, of pure style, and practical instruction. In 1847, his faithful, tender and devoted wife, who had borne him fifteen children, and whose cheerful and patient spirit had sustained and solaced him in all the toils and sorrows of their long pilgrimage, was called to the '' rest that remaineth for the just." The light of his fireside being now extinguished, and his home solitary and sad, he consented to spend the residue of his days in the house of his son-in-law Pitser Miller, of Boli- var. To his children, who frequently importuned him to lay down his harness, and to rest from his labours, he had but one answer, — " I have work to do, and must do it." But age and increasing infirmities admonished him at last that he must retire ; and in 1849 he resigned the charge of his parish to his successor, the Kev. Louis Jansen. After that, he spent his time chiefly in reading and meditation. Nine of his children and their revered mother had already been called hence, and his only wish now was to prepare to join them in Paradise. Having " fought a good fight and kept the faith," he sunk gently and sweetly to rest, in the arms of his children, on the 21st of November, 1850. Only a few hours before his death, he con- versed with his pastor, Mr. Jansen, about his approaching end, and expressed his entire trust in the goodness and mercy of Grod. With the solemn Ser- vice of the Church, he was consigned to his mother earth, in the beautiful cemetery where his own voice had so often been heard, tremulous with emotion, over the graves of others. It was always his wish that one of his sons should become a minister at the altar ; and when his eldest, Abednego, consecrated his mighty intellect and lofty spirit to that holy work, he fondly hoped that his mantle would descend upon his shoulders. But alas ! in less than four short years, he was called upon to weep for the death of that gifted son. Speaking of this son's death to a friend, he said, " I have lost my right arm !" In temper and disposition Dr. Stephens was kind and gentle ; in his demeanour, modest and unobtrusive ; in his habits of living, frugal and temperate ; in his business transactions, scrupulously exact. A deep and original thinker, his style of preaching was earnest, practical and direct. Pond of reading and meditation, he sought the society of books, and stored his mind with the treasures of History and Theology. His sermons abounded in dignity of thought, purity of style and language, and richness of historical and classical allusion and illustration. Besides his forty years of ministerial labour, the necessities of his large family compelled him to teach school during nearly the whole of that period ; and he brought to this task the same industry, zeal and ability which he exhibited in the pulpit. Thus, although his lot was cast generally in frontier parishes, small in numbers and unable to contribute largely for Church services, his unwearied industry and conscientious economy enabled him to DANIEL STEPHENS. 523 bring up and educate, without being a burthen to others, his large family of children. How pleasant the memory of such a Father, Pastor, and Friend. Allow me to quote the following passage from my Annual Address, delivered in 1851 : — " November 16th, 1850. — Reached Bolivar, where I found that aged " servant and minister of Christ, Rev. Daniel Stephens, D. D., lying upon " the bed of his last sickness, ' in great weakness of body.' I did not then " suppose his earthly end was so near as the event subsequently proved. " Though suffering from extreme debility in his physical powers, his mind " appeared to be clear and vigorous, and he listened with much interest to " the account which I gave him of the meeting of the General Convention, " and its proceedings. The purity of the Church, as affected especially by " the lives of her ministry and members, her soundness in doctrine, the " holiness of her members as evidencing their union with Christ, by a true " and living faith, were subjects which lay very near to his heart, and on " which he spoke with deep and impressive solemnity. He mentioned his " long and trying service in the ministry of the Gospel, and remarked that " the temptation was sometimes presented to his mind to look upon his '' arduous labours as furnishing some ground of trust and hope towards " God ; ' but,' said he, ' it will not do, I put it all away ; there is nothing " to rest upon but the atonement of Christ. The atonement of Christ is " to us all in all.' With these views our venerable brother went to his " account. Relying upon the meritorious sacrifice of his Saviour, he has " doubtless met the approval of his righteous Judge, and entered upon the " reward of a well spent life. He was among the first of the ministers " of our Church that settled in Tennessee, was present in the primary " Convention when the Diocese was organized, and ever manifested a lively " interest in its affairs. He was, besides myself, the only remaining brother " left of all the Clergy who were present and took part in the election of " its first Bishop. Our venerated brother departed this life on the evening " of November 21, 1850, in the midst of loving and affectionate friends, " who felt it to be a privilege to minister to his wants, and smooth his " passage to the tomb. He had attained to the age of nearly fourscore " years, and left the world, it is believed, without an enemy to forgive, or " one of whom to ask forgiveness." The following extract from the Sermon which Dr. Stephens preached at the ordination of his son, (from Rev. ii., 10,) will enable your readers to form some idea of the vigour of his mind, and his deep sense of ministerial responsibility. " My son, you now stand in the presence of God and of this assembly, preparatory to taking upon you the vows of a herald of the Cross of Christ. With indescribable emotions, I behold you about to step forth into the arena of this Gospel warfare ! As Hamilcar made his son Hannibal vow 'never to lay down his sword until he had conquered his enemies,' so I would obligate you to be ' faithful unto death ' in wielding the sword of the Spirit against the rebellious enemies of Jehovah's Kingdom. But above all you are to conquer the enemies in your own heart. ' The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked, who can know it V 524 EPiscopALiAisr. ' Know thyself,' was an ancient aphorism of true wisdom. You are to keep the house of the heart ' empty, swept and garnished' from all impure thoughts, sceptical reveries, and repinings against Providence, from all evil passions, unlawful desires and unholy principles. Grod requires the heart as a pure sacrifice to himself: ' My son, give me thine heart.' The heart is to be ' cleansed from all dead works, to serve the living Grod.' It is to be seasoned with grace, and all the purifying and sanctifying energies of the Spirit. "As to your piety, and literary and theological acquirements, your Dioce- san appears to be satisfied. But on the subject of piety, it is possible to impose upon others, and even to deceive yourself. Although you had all knowledge and all faith, so that you could remove mountains, yet without charity, that is, love to God and love to man, you would be as ' sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal.' You are then to endeavour to be well satis- fied of your spiritual call to the ministry ; not only so far as it relates to circumstances, and the Providence of God placing it within your power, but as to the internal agency of the Spirit, strongly inclining your mind to the holy office, and giving you no peace when you try to resist or shake off the thoughts of it ; until these holy leadings and solemn impressions amount to such a sum of evidence as to convince you that the hand of God is in this matter, and that you would resist his will by refusing the Divine call. ****** ****** " ' Be thou faithful unto death.' The minister of Christ then must be faithful in the discharge of all his pastoral duties, and especially in doc- trine. Like Philip in Samaria, he is to ' preach Christ' to his people. Like St. John, he is to preach the atonement — ' The blood of Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.' And like the same Apostle, he must preach love to Ged and love to man ; for ' love is the fulfilling of the law.' And like St. James, he must preach faith and good works, because the one without the other is dead. And all this he must preach diligently and faithfully 'unto death,' if health and circumstances permit, or else lose his final reward. Well may he exclaim with the Apostle, ' Who is sufficient for these things ?' ' But our sufficiency is of God.' — ' Let no man despise thy youth.' Christ crucified is the sum and substance of the whole Gospel. " The minister of Christ then must earnestly inculcate this doctrine of the atonement, and the conditions on which its saving benefits are suspended, viz, — repentance of all sin, faith in the only Saviour, and obedience to all his commands, and the use of the Sacraments of the Gospel. *********##^ Addressing the Bishop and Clergy, he proceeds : — " But our crown depends upon our faithfulness and perseverance unto death. Having put our hands to the Gospel plough, we are not to turn back or apostatize ; for ' if any man draw back, my soul shall have no plea- sure in him.' Our glorious opportunities are drawing to a close. In a few more years, or even days, we shall be no longer stewards. Death on his pale horse approaches with sure and steady step, and while with his cold hand he stops the ears of our people from hearing, he will stop our DANIEL STEPHENS. 525 tongues from preaching ! We too must die, as well as our people. Already the heads of some of us are blossoming for the grave ! We, who have so often witnessed the last moments of others, — who have consigned so many to the tomb, that we seem almost to have lost our sensibility and fear of death, — we too must die and appear among our people at the judgment seat of Christ ! May we then be able to say ' I am free from the blood of all men.' < I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith ; heijceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righte- ousness, which the Lord the righteous Judge will give to me in that day, and not to me only, but to all them that wait for his appearing." " Here on earth, the faithful minister is wearied with labours, with watching, with perils, with fasting, with poverty and distress, but there he shall be rewarded with a 'crown of life.' Here, like righteous Lot, his holy ' soul is grieved from day to day' for the wickedness of the land, because men keep not the law of God ; but there he shall sweetly rest from all his labours and troubles, in the blessed company of Patriarchs and Pro- phets, and Apostles, and Martyrs, and Reformers, and faithful ministers ; and with all the redeemed of G-od from the beginning to the end of the world, with palms of victory in their hands, and crowns of glory on their heads ; ' singing glory, and honour, and power, and salvation, to the Lamb that was slain, and liveth again, and hath redeemed us to God by his blood !'" Amen ! I remain very truly. Your faithful friend, JAMES H. OTET. DANIEL McDonald, d. d.* 1810—1830. Daniel McDonald was a great-grandson of Louis McDonald, who emigrated from Invernesshire, Scotland, to this country, in 1731, and set- tled near Bedford, Westchester County, N. Y. Pie brought with him the industrious thrifty habits for which his countrymen are distinguished, and also a strong and reverential attachment to the Episcopal Church. He (Daniel) was the son of James and Huldah (Foot) McDonald : his mother was of English extraction, and belonged, as did her ancestors, to the Con- gregational Church of New England. His grandfather and father both imbibed the principles of the Society of Friends ; and this circumstance gave a hue to his early education. His mother died when he was a child, and he had reached only the age of nine years, when his father gave him a second mother in an excellent lady, whose maiden name was Rachel Davies. She united good sense with great kindness and gentleness, and a decided Christian character, and left the impress of both her mind and her heart upon the children towards whom she was called to act in the delicate rela- • MSS. from his son, Professor W. 1. McDonald, Kev. Dr. Hale, and Eev. Dr. Cressey. 526 EPISCOPALIAN. tion of step-mother. Those children always held her maternal kindness and fidelity in most grateful remembrance, and continued to testify their gratitude by the most substantial acts of kindness until her death, which took place at the age of eighty-seven. The early years of Daniel were spent, like those of most of ,the New England youth of that day, — in working on a farm with his father in the summer, and in attending school in his native town in the winter. He early evinced great fondness for study, and made rapid progress in the different elementary branches ; and he was also distinguished for uncommon matu- rity of judgment, for love of truth and honour, and freedom from all vicious and wayward tendencies. So intensely was he devoted to his studies that, notwithstanding he spent part of the year in labour on the farm, he was prepared to enter, and actu- ally did enter, Middlebury College at the early age of fifteen. He left the institution, however, at the close of the Freshman year, chiefly, it would seem, on account of his strong attachment to the Episcopal Church, and his unwillingness to forego the privilege of attending public worship in that communion. Soon after he returned from Middlebury, he received Bap- tism, and resolved to devote himself to the work of the ministry. In 1802, he entered the Acadgmy at Cheshire, Conn., then under the charge of the E-ev. Tillotson Bronson, D. D.; and here he remained till he had completed a course of study nearly corresponding to that which he would have taken in College. In 1806, he was appointed assistant teacher in the Academy in which he had been educated ; and while thus engaged, was pursuing the study of Theology under Dr. Bronson, for whom he entertained an almost filial regard, and whose memory he always cherished with mingled rever- ence and affection. On the 18th of March, 1810, Mr. McDonald was admitted to Deacon's Orders in Trinity Church, New Haven, by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Jarvis, and on the 20th of December, 1812, to Priest's Orders, in the same church, by the same Prelate. From 1806 to 1813, he continued his connection with the Academy at Cheshire, and, during his Diaconate, oflGiciated as missionary in the neigh- bouring villages, which were destitute of Episcopal ministrations. In 1813, he received a call to the Rectorship of St. Peter's Church, Auburn, N. Y., and commenced his labours there in December of that year, though he did not remove his family until the September following. Auburn was then but an outpost of civilization : the best hotel was a log house, and the loose boards for walks, and the worm fences along the prin- cipal streets, proclaimed that the pioneer of civilization had not been there long in advance of the herald of the Cross. For a while after he took charge of the church at Auburn, he occupied also the missionary station of Skeneateles. His ministry, especially at Auburn, seems to have been blessed, and there grew up between him and his people a strong and enduring attachment. Still, he thought it his duty to listen to a call that was subsequently made to him to take charge of the Academy in Fairfield, Herkimer County, together with the parish of that village ; and, accordingly, he removed thither in February, 1817. Seve- ral years previous to this, Trinity Church, New York, had granted an DANIEL McDonald. 527 annuity to the Fairfield Academy, on condition that at least eight young men, candidates for Holy Orders, should be educated gratuitously, and they were expected to pursue their theological studies under the direction of the Principal. This number Mr. McDonald had under his charge while at Fairfield, and subsequently at Geneva. During his residence at Fairfield, he ofliciated also as a missionary in some of the adjacent villages. In 1821, a Branch Theological Seminary was established at Geneva, under the direction of the Managers of the "Protestant Episcopal Theo- logical Society." The Trinity Church Annuity was transferred thither, together with the duties annexed to it ; and Mr. McDonald removed to that village the same year. In that year also the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him, at the suggestion of Bishop Hobart, by Columbia College. After his removal to Geneva, he served, for several years, as missionary in the neighbouring village of Waterloo, where he had much to encourage him in the results of his labours. In 1825, the Academy was made a College, and the Theological School given up. Dr. McDonald was now appointed Professor of the Latin and Greek Languages and Literature, and in this capacity served the institu- tion with great ability and fidelity during the remainder of his life. For three years he was acting President of the College. Some two or three years before his death, while superintending the erec- tion of an addition to his house, he received an injury from a fall, which resulted in a tumour on his thigh, which gradually assumed a scrofulous character, and ultimately became an abscess. In the winter of 1829-30, his physicians opened the tumour, but, instead of healing kindly, it con- tinued to discharge copiously till the limb wasted away, and death by hemorrhage closed the painful scene on the 25th of March, 1830. His remains were taken to Auburn for burial. He continued to meet his class at the College till within six weeks of his death ; and after he became too feeble to leave his house, he heard their recitations in his own chamber. In early life his constitution was far from being vigorous ; but, as he came to manhood, he attained, by great care and prudence in respect to diet and exercise, such robust health as enabled him to endure a great amount of both physical and intellectual labour. He was passionately fond of horticulture, and delighted in laying out and tastefully adorning the grounds attached to his house. Music. was a favourite pastime for him, and he was a very creditable performer on the violin, flute, organ, and other instruments. And it was not uncommon for him, when officiating in vacant parishes, to give out the psalm or hymn, and, leaving his desk, go to the organ, lead the singing,— accompanying it with the instrument, and then return to his place to deliver his sermon. Mr. McDonald was married on the 9th of October, 1807, to Percy, daughter of Samuel and Phebe (Hall) Talmage, of Cheshire, Conn. She died in June, 1809, leaving one son. On the 8th of October, 1811, he married Phebe Talmage, a sister of his former wife, by whom he had eight children, — all of them sons. She still (1858) lives, and resides with one of her sons in Norwalk, 0. Five of the sons survive, and all of them are communicants in the Episcopal Church. His eldest son, Samuel P., was graduated at Geneva College in 1829, and soon after commenced the 528 EPISCOPALIAN. study of Law, but was compelled by ill health to abandon it, and settled on a farm near Huron, 0., in 1837. The seventh son, William T., was graduated at Geneva College in 1845, studied Medicine, but subsequently engaged in the business of teaching, and is now Professor in the Western University, Pittsburg, Pa. Dr. McDonald's only publications were a Sermon preadied before the Diocesan Convention of New York, printed in the Churchman's Maga- zine, and a series of articles in the Gospel Messenger, over the signature of "P." FROM HORACE WEBSTER, LL. D., PRINCIPAL OF THE NEW YORK FREE ACADEMT. NewTokk Free Academy, May 18, 1858. My dear Sir: Agreeably to your request of the 30th ult., I do myself the honour to communicate a few reminiscences in relation to the Rev. Dr. McDon- ald, with whom I was associated in Geneva College. We were appointed Professors together in that institution, when it was first organized, in 1825, and carried on the course of instruction in our respective departments from that time until his death. As we were the only Professors in the College during most of that period, we were in the habit of daily intercourse, and on terms of no little intimacy. I attended the same church also with him, where he frequently officiated, in consequence of the absence of the Rector, the Rev. Dr. Clark, from ill health. I heard him preach generally, I should think, 'as often as from two to three sermons a month. Dr. McDonald, at the time that our acquaintance began, was about forty-five years of age. He was rather portly in person, firmly set, a little above the medium height, of light complexion, and fair and open countenance. He was plain and simple in his manners, and was frank to a degree that might be con- sidered as amounting almost to bluntness. He was an earnest and faithful man in the discharge of any duties he might assume. As an instructor of youth, no person could be more laborious or more assiduous. He was an accurate scholar in most of the branches of an undergraduate collegiate course of study : in the learned languages, to which he devoted himself more particularly, and of which he was a Professor in Geneva College for some years, he had made profound and extensive acquirements. He was minutely and thoroughly acquainted with all the classical authors known to scholars in this country; yet he was very unpretending, and seemed almost unwilling, if we may judge from the modest manner in which he would allude to his acquirements, that others should know the extent of his erudi- tion. Although I was so intimate with him, and saw him at almost all hours of the day, yet I have no recollection of ever hearing him refer, of his own accord, to his studies, or the authors he might be engaged in reading. But still I knew, from remarks frequently made by his family, that he improved all his leisure in studying carefully some of the most difficult classical authors. I may mention in this connection another circumstance in my intercourse with Dr. McDonald, somewhat illustrative of his habits, and which used sometimes to amuse me. He was never disposed to say any thing directly in reference to what he was about to preach, and if I had asked him what his text was to be, I am quite sure that I should not have been the wiser for the inquiry; but, at the same time, I could almost always, from the general drift of his conversa- tion during the week, form a pretty correct idea of the channel in which his mind was running to make out the next Sunday's discourses. His mind evi- dently became excited by conversation, and thus his thoughts took on a DANIEL McDonald. 529 freshness and power which otherwise would not probably have been imparted to them. Dr. McDonald was not only a profound scholar, but what is more unusual, a most successful teacher. His pupils never left his recitation room without being impressed with the extent of his learning, and with the interest he took in their welfare. His intercourse with his pupils in the lecture room was always fitted to give them a higher relish for learning, as well as to deepen their sense of its importance. He had a great fondness for anecdote, and had always something in this way at command to illustrate any subject under consideration. He was uniformly cheerful in the company of his pupils, and sometimes enthusiastic, especially when he had occasion to speak of some favourite author, or some living scholar, of great attainments, to whom he would refer them as an example for their imitation. It may perhaps be proper here to mention that Dr. McDonald was Principal of the Academy at Geneva for some time prior to its being changed into a Col- lege, and that it was in a good measure owing to the reputation he gave the Academy, that the friends of learning at Geneva and elsewhere were induced to bring about this change. Perhaps the most striking characteristics of Dr. McDonald, as a clergyman, were the simplicity of his demeanour, and his good common-sense. There was no approach to affectation in his style of preaching, and his discourses, which were written in pure chaste English, were generally addressed to the intellect rather than the heart; were better fitted to convince his hearers of the value of religion than to persuade them to lead a new life. The circumstances of his youth favoured perhaps his devotion to polemics, rather than earnest, spiritual preaching. But this remark seems to have been applicable only to his earlier efforts; for I scarcely ever heard more evangelical and faithful sermons than I heard from him during the last year or so of his life. He disregarded the arts of oratory, and seemed to feel that religion was too momentous a concern to call in the adventitious aids of a fascinating manner. I may say, without the fear of contradiction, that he adorned all his relations, and made them all sources of enjoyment to himself and channels of blessing to others. A few days before Dr. McDonald's death, I visited him, and found him lying upon his bed, with a large pile of his manuscript sermons by his side, which he was taking up one by one, and laying aside a few for preservation, but directing his son to throw much the greater part of them into the fire. He was, at that time, fully aware that his end was near, and this was one of the things that he was doing in preparation for it. I have the honour to be, very respectfully. Your obedient servant, HORACE "WEBSTER. FROM THE REV. HENRY GREGORY, D. D., fbesident of de vaux colleqe. De Vadx Colleoe, ) Near Niagara Falls, May 20, 1858. J Rev. and dear Sir: I have many reasons for very grateful recollections of Dr. McDonald. I first knew him in my boyhood, as missionary at Auburn. Thence he went to Fairfield, Herkimer County; and he was the means of my going there as a beneficiary. His Principalship of that Academy was eminently successful. In his scholarship he was distinguished for solidity, judgment, and! a strong grasping of important points. He was a close observer of human con- duct, and had a deep and accurate knowledge of human nature. He was a man of remarkable integrity, of a very high sense of duty, and of great charity. I, Vol. V. 67 530 EPISCOPALIAN. do not think he had a vivid perception of the beauties of art, or of works of the imagination. His sermons were uncommonly sound, chaste and instructive; but not rheto- rical either in style or delivery. His manner was neither graceful nor earnest, but his matter must have been eminently readable. If my recollection is not in fault, his sermons would be worth printing. He was remarkably industrious and punctual, and although grave, and at times stern, in his manners, he was cheerful and communicative in his hours of relaxation, and had a good fund of maxims and anecdotes. He gave a great deal of wise counsel to the young men whom he trained for the ministry. He was a very strong Churchman. Regretting that my recollections of Dr. McDonald are not more extended and minute, I am, dear Sir, faithfully yours, HENRY GREGORY. SAMUEL FARMAR JARVIS, D. D., LL. D * 1810—1851. Samuel Farmak Jarvis was born at Middletown, Conn., January 20, 1786. He was the youngest child, and only son, of the Kev. Abraham Jarvis, D. D., then Rector of the Parish of Christ Church, Middletown, and afterwards Bishop of the Diocese of Connecticut. He commenced his studies under the immediate direction of his father ; but in 1798, when he was eleven years of age, his father removed to Cheshire for the purpose of placing Mm under the instruction of the Eev. John Bowden, D. D., who was much distinguished as a classical teacher. Dr. Bowden having resigned the charge of the A-Cademy, Bishop Jarvis removed to New Haven, and, in 1802, entered his son at Yale College, as a member of the Sophomore class. Though he was among the youngest members of his class, he had a high reputation for both behaviour and scholarship, and graduated with honour in the year 1805. Professor Silliman, writing concerning Dr. Jarvis, at this period, says,' — " I was absent in England during most of the year that he graduated, but I have a distinct recollection of him as a superior scholar, especially in classical literature ; and I well remember that the late Professor Kingsley was greatly pleased by an elegant English translation by him from the original Latin of the famous letter of the younger Pliny, giving an account of the death of his uncle, the elder Pliny, the Natural Historian, in con- sequence of suffocation by the gases and ashes ejected by Vesuvius during the eruption, of August, A. D. 79, which buried Pompeii, Herculaneum, and other towns." At the age of twenty-three, Mr. Jarvis was ordained Deacon, at New Haven, by his Rt. Reverend father, March 18, 1810 ; and on the 5th of April, in the following year, he was, at the same place, and by the same Prelate, advanced to the Order of the Priesthood. •Ch. Kev., 1851.— Calendar, 1854.— MSS. from Rev. T. F. Davies, jr., Rt. Rev. Bishop RurgesB, Rev. Dr. A. B. Beach, and Rev. A. B. Beach. SAMUEL FARMAR JARVIS. 531 On the 22d of March in that year, (1811,) he took charge of St. Michael's Church, Bloomingdale, in the Diocese of New York; and in 1813, became Rector of St. James' Church, New York; the Rector- ship of which associate parishes he held until May, 1819. At that time, the General Theological Seminary having been recently established in New York, Mr. Jarvis was appointed Professor of Biblical Learning in the new institution. Though he held this post but a short time, he acquitted himself, both as a scholar and a gentleman, with great honour, and endeared himself not a little to those who enjoyed the benefit of his instruction. In 1819, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the University of Pennsylvania ; and in 1837, with the degree of Doctor of Laws from Trinity College, Hartford. In 1820, he was elected the first Rector of St. Paul's Church, Boston, whither he removed immediately after, and remained there six years. In 1826, he resigned his charge of that church, and embarked for Europe, with a view of qualifying himself more perfectly for certain works which he had projected, bearing upon the history of the Church. During his nine years' absence, he visited all the most important libraries in Europe, and explored every accessible source of information on the subjects to which his attention was specially directed. Six of these years he passed in Italy, where he was brought into an unreserved intercourse with various classes of Romanists, — Clergy and Laity, and had the best opportunity of penetrating into the interior of their religious economy. He returned from Europe in 1835, and shortly after accepted the Pro- fessorship of Oriental Literature in Washington (now Trinity) College, of which the Bishop of the Diocese was then President. After occupying this position two years, he was, in 1837, elected Rector of Christ Parish, in Middletown. But so laborious were his duties as Pastor, in connection with those of Historiographer, which had already been devolved upon him, that he felt constrained to ask for an Assistant, and in the early part of 1840, the choice of the Rev. John Williams, D.D., was unanimously con- firmed by the Vestry of the Parish. The Journal of the Convention of the Diocese for 1842 reports his resignation of the Rectorship of his par- ish at Easter of that year. His own report to the Bishop, says, — " The parish being in this prosperous condition, and in perfect harmony, the Rector, oppressed by domestic calamities, and fearful that some untoward event might renew the agitation existing in 1838 and 1839, determined to resign his pastoral charge." The number of persons admitted, anew, to Communion from 1837 to 1842, was eighty. Shortly after his return from Europe, Dr. Jarvis commenced the great work for which he had long been preparing, — namely, a Complete History of the Christian Church. The G-eneral Convention of 1838 expressed their approbation of the enterprise, and honoured him with the appointment of Historiographer of the Church. Though he did not live fully to carry out his plan, he published two volumes, — one in 1845, the other in 1850 ; and the high talent and laborious and learned research which these volumes display, only render the regret the deeper that he left the work in an unfinished state. Dr. Jarvis occupied various posts of honour and influence in the Diocese of Connecticut. He was Trustee of Trinity College, and of the General 532 EPISCOPALIAN. Theological Seminary, Secretary and Treasurer of the Christian Knowledge Society, and a member of the Standing Committee of the Diocese, of which he was also Secretary. He was also elected a delegate to the Gene- ral Conventions of 1844, 1847, and 1850 ; and in the last two, occupied the important and honourable place of Chairman of the Standing Commit- tee on Canons. He rendered important service also, especially after his final removal to Middletown, in assisting candidates in their preparation for the Christian ministry. For this he was eminently qualified, as well by his bland and attractive manner, and his facility at communicating instruction, as by his varied learning and extraordinary abilities. On the 3d of July, 1810, he was married in St. John's Church, Say- brook, Conn., to Sarah M'Curdy, daughter of Elisha Hart, of that place. He had six children, — three sons and three daughters. One of his sons {Samuel Fermoir*) is a clergyman in the Episcopal Church, having been ordained Deacon in 1854, and Priest in 1855. The following is a list of Dr. Jarvis' publications: — An Oration before the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Yale College, 1806. A Sermon on the death of Mrs. Hart, 1811. An Address at the Laying of the Corner Stone of Trinity Church, New Haven, 1814. A Thanksgiving Sermon for the Kestoration of Peace, 1815. A Sermon on the Unity of the Church, before the New York Convention, 1816. A Letter to the Chiefs of the Onondaga Indians, to convert them to Christianity, 1817. A Discourse on the Eeligion of the Indian Tribes of North America, delivered before the New York Historical Society, 1819. A Sermon preached on the Third Anniversary of the Auxiliary Education Society of the Young Men of Boston, 1822. A Sermon on Kegeneration, before the Massachusetts Diocesan Convention, with an Appendix, 1822. Narrative of Events connected with the Acceptance and Resignation of the Rectorship of St. Paul's, Boston, 1825. A Sermon preached before the Church Scholarship Society, JIartford, 1835. An Address to the Citizens of Hartford on the Birth-day of Linnaeus, 1836. A Sermon on Christian Unity, before the Board of Missions, 1836. The Long Home of Man : A Sermon preached at the Funeral of the Rev. Stephen Beach,t 1838. Easter * This waa the original orthography of the name, and Mr. Jarria has, by his father's request, returned to it. ■f Stepheh Beach was born in Wallingford, Conn., March 15, 1790. Without the advan- tages of a collegiate education, but with a remarkable lore of learning, and strong intellectual powers, he became a good scholar and an exeelleut preacher. He was admitted to Beacon's Orders in St. Michael's Church, Bristol, K. I., by Bishop Griswold, on the 20th of October, 1815. Immediately after his ordination, he removed to the Northern part of "Vermont, where, for several years, he officiated in the three Parishes of St. Albans, Fairfield, and Sheldon. He wag the only clergyman of the Episcopal Church of that day, North of Vergennes. He was admitted to Priest's Orders by Bishop Griswold, in Holdcmess, N. H., August 24, 1817. In 1822, he removed from Vermont, to take charge of the Parish at Salisbury in the State of Con- necticut. Here also he was known, as he had been in Vermont, as a successful founder of churches, and his name is gratefully remembered throughout that part of the State.- In 1833, he removed from Salisbury to Essex, in the same State, taking charge of that parish in connec- tion with St. Stephen's Church, East Haddam. Under his zealous ministry, each of these parishes soon grew to require, and be able to support, the entire service of a minister, and in 1836, Mr. Beach resigned the Parish at Essex, and became Pastor at East Haddam. His minis- try at this place, abundantly blessed, was continued for two years only, when he died at the age of forty-seven. His death occurred on the 14th of January, 1838. In 1814, he was married to a daughter of Amos Billings, Esq-, of Guilford, Vt. Two of his sons are highly respectable clergymen of the Episcopal Church,— one, Amos B., Rector of Christ Church, Binghamton, N. Y., the other, Alfred B. (nowD. D.) Rector of St. Peter's Church, New York City. "Although called in the Providence of God to occupy positions, in the Church to which he belonged, remote and comparatively but little known, yet it may be said with truth that few ui SAMUEL FAllMAK JARVIS. 533 Address of a Hector to his Parishioners, 1838. Address to the Citizens of Middletown, occasioned by the death of President Harrison, 1841. Two Discourses on Prophecy, with an Appendix : Being a Eefutation of Mil- lerism, 1843. No Union with Kome, 1843. Worldly and Christian Edu- cation compared : A Sermon preached in St. John's Church, South Hackney, 1844. The Holy of Holies seen through the Sanctuary, preached in the Church of All Souls, St. Mary Le Bone, London. Thomas Hartwell Home, B. D.'s Mariolatry, corrected and enlarged from the Second London edition, and edited by the Rev. Dr. Jarvis, 1844. A Chronological Introduction to the History of the Church, 1845. The Promise is to You and your Children : A Sermon on Infant Baptism, 1846. A Synoptical Table of Egyptian and Sacred History, 1846. The Colonics of Heaven : A Sermon preached before the Diocesan Convention of Connecticut, 1846. The presence of God in his Church : A Sermon preached at the Ordination of the Rev. Professor Jackson ; with a Vindication of the Chronological Introduction from the aspersions of Professor Kingsley, 1847. Reply to Bishop's Milner's' End of Religious Controversy, 1847. A Voice from Connecticut, occasioned by the late Pastoral Letter of the Bishop of North Carolina, 1849. The Church of the Redeemed, or the History of the Mediatorial Kingdom from the Falling of Man in Paradise to the Rejec- tion of the Jews and the Calling of the Gentiles, vol. 1, 1850. Dr. Jarvis was one of the Editors of the Gospel Advocate from 1821 to 1826, and published many valuable papers in it during that time. He also, during his last years, contributed several important articles to the Church Review. FROM THE REV. JOHN M. WHITON, D. D. Bennington, N. H., January 25, 1855. Dear Sir : You are right in supposing Dr. Jarvis to have been u, College class- mate of mine. I have met him but once since our graduation almost half a cen- tury ago; but my recollections of him in his collegiate course are very distinct. He was of medium stature, with a countenance fair and even handsome, expres- sive of intelligence, candour, and benignity. His manners were graceful, showing at once that he had been accustomed to move in polished society. As to his morals, they were irreproachable; but in relation to the state of his religious feelings at that early day, I am not able to speak, further than to testify that his deportment indicated reverence for things sacred. In all the departments of learning he was highly respectable, but excelled most in belles-lettres. In strength of intellect, possibly he was exceeded by some in the class; in delicacy of taste, in incessant diligence and patience of investigation, by none. Whether, on the whole, he attained to "the first three," or was to be assigned to the second, might, perhaps, admit of some question, but all were agreed in ranking him among the lights of the class. Very respectfully, JOHN M. WHITON. its ministers have been more useful, or bavein the same period of time done more in this coun- try for the extension of that Church, and its permanent establishment in destitute places, than did Mr. Beach. As a preacher, he was remarkably clear, earnest, plain and instructive. He excelled in extemporaneous speaking. Taking a strong hold of what he regarded as truth or duty, his eonduet was always consistent with his professions and convictions. At the same time, he was singularly humble and charitable, and was therefore greatly respected and beloved by all who knew him, and not less by those who were nut, than by those who were, of his own Church and persuasion. " 534 EPISCOPALIAN. FROM THE RT. REV. JOHN WILLIAMS, D. D., ASSISTANT BI9H0F OF THE DIOCESE OF GONNECTICUT. MiDDLETOWM, November 30, 1857. Eev. and dear Sir: In accordance with your request, but after a delay for which I trust you will allow pressing and numerous engagements to be a sufficient apology, I take up my pen to communicate to you some of my personal recoUec- tious of the late Dr. Jarvis. For, if I understand you, it is those that you desire, rather than biographical details. I first saw Dr. Jarvis in 1835, just as I was about taking my first degree at Trinity College. He had a short time previously returned from Europe, and was then preparing to establish himself at the College. I met him only casually', once or twice, and yet his affability and the kind way in which he entered into the feelings and difficulties of a young student just leaving his College, were such that, a few months afterwards, my thoughts seemed naturally to turn to him, as one who would be all that could be desired as an instructer in Theology. In the spring following, I came to him, and, from almost that time until his death, was honoured with his unreserved friendship; being, for a time, his Assistant in his Parish at Middletown, and having, by letter and otherwise, an unbroken intercourse with him. Dr. Jarvis was so especially before the community as a scholar and author, that it is proper first to speak of him in those characters. As a scholar, his range was remarkable. Not only was he thoroughly trained and instructed himself, but he was so well acquainted with the sources of knowledge, and so entirely at home among books, that his counsel and advice were invaluable. Indeed his memory served him for a common-place book. And I remember being particularly struck with the comparatively small amount of material in the way of references to authorities, with which he worked in writing his Chro- nological Introduction. But he carried these references in his memory; and they were not — in the majority of cases — written down, till he wrote them in the form of foot-notes. Dr. Jarvis entertained a high sense of what an author owes to his readers; and he shrunk from no amount of labour in order to come up to it. I once ventured to expostulate with him on the immense labour which he went through with, in re-verifying references. But his replj' was, that a writer was bound, at what- ever expense of time and exertion, not only to avoid second hand references, but also to ensure absolute correctness. It was a conscience with him. This con- tinual appeal to original sources of information, to which I have just alluded, was a characteristic of his mode of study. And he not only pursued it himself, hui — sometimes to their dismay — insisted on it with his students. But he always argued that it saved time in the end. One was sometimes a little worried, on quoting Augustine for instance, by being quietly asked, — " Have you seen that in St. Augustine?" " No Sir," would perhaps be the reply, " but Bishop Pear- son quotes it." " Very well, if I could not get at St. Augustine, I would take the passage on Bishop Pearson's authority: if I could, — and there are his works, — I should rather look for myself." As a scholar, Dr. Jarvis was peculiarly easy of access : and this exposed him to continual interruptions, and often drew heavily on his time and patience. But he always cheerfully gave the one, and I never knew the other to fail. Even during the progress of that great work, to which he had devoted himself, (but which, alas! he never lived to finish,) he was subjected to these interruptions. Now he was called off to write a pamphlet or a book in connection with the Romish Controversy; now to prepare a sermon on some especially important topic; and continually to reply to letters asking advice or information, in doing SAMUEL FARMAR JARVIS. 535 whicli he was obliged to enter on laborious researcTies, and to sum up results in an elaborate essay. Yet I never knew him to refuse any of these applications. The stores of his learning were freely opened to all who came to him. "With all this he never forgot that he was a clergyman as well as a scholar; and his priestly duties were never put aside. During his lengthened residence in Europe, he ministered to various congregations of Americans and English: while he was Professor in Trinity College, he was constantly occupied in the same way; and almost as soon as he had resigned his charge in Middletown, he began to do missionary duty at a small station which he himself established, in the neighbourhood. This he continued to serve, with only interruptions occa- sioned by his necessary absences, till within a few months of his death. For some years, he usually walked the distance between his house and this station, undeterred by weather or any other cause. And I could always see that the oflice of Priest and Preacher was the same to him wherever it was exercised: whether to a congregation of nobility and gentry in Europe, or to a few humble families in an obscure hamlet of New England. Indeed, I never saw a man, in whose view the dignity and responsibility of the ofBce so entirely absorbed and superseded all thought of the place in which the office was exercised. As a preacher, Dr. Jarvis was remarkable for the clear and elegant style in which he set forth weighty truths. Few men ever wrote purer English. None ever put more matter into their sermons. His manner in the pulpit was grave and dignified. He used but little gesture, thougR the tones of his voice were earnest and solemn. Any one meeting Dr. Jarvis, in any company, would mark him at once as an ecclesiastic and a scholar; and would be attracted by his courteous and even courtly bearing. Intercourse and familiarity presented him as one of the most transparent and guileless of men. And notwithstanding the bitter trials through which he passed, and the harsh lessons which he learned of the danger of rely- ing on any thing human, he retained those characteristics to the last. " I would rather," he once said in a letter to me, " be deceived every hour of every day, than to live in such a state of suspicion and distrust of everybody as does." It was honest sincerity of heart and purpose, anticipating that in others of which it was conscious in itself. And this was accompanied with a most complete submission to and faith in the will and wisdom of God. I had once written to him to the effect that he seemed to have attained entire trust in God's overruling care. "Not entire," was his reply, " for then I should not only be submissive, but should not even feel anxious: this I have not reached." It was my privilege to be with him, almost constantly, during the closing scenes of his life; and they have left with me a memory which can never pass away. Such details are too sacred to be lightly touched for every eye, or spoken of in every ear. The last Communion, when his children and his pupils knelt around his bed, and when every word of prayer and praise came full from his wasted lips, was a service from which it seemed hard to come back to the ordinary things of life. And it was easy here, as at all other times, to see that his views, and hopes, and comforts, were found only in the merits and the blood of Him, whose servant and minister he was. I have thus, my dear Sir, thrown together these few desultory thoughts. My difficulty has been in recalling my friend and instructer to mind, not to take more time and space than were my due. If these jottings shall be of any ser- vice to you, it will be a source of real gratification to me. I am very truly yours, JOHN "WILLIAMS. 536 EPISCOPALIAN. WILLIAM ATWATER CLARK, D. D * 1810—1841. I William Atwater Clark, a son of John and Chloe (Atwater) Clark, was born at New Marlborough, Mass., on the 20th of July, 1786. His father was a farmer in comfortable circumstances, was educated a Congregation- alist, and though enjoying very limited early advantages, became, by exten- sive reading and by the constant exercise of his own vigorous powers, an able reasoner and a thorough theologian. His mother belonged to an Episcopal family in New Haven, and was distinguished not only for consistent piety, but for sound sense and excellent judgment. Hence the children were brought up in an atmosphere highly favourable to both their intellectual and moral development. Mr. Clark (the father) had no other purpose in respect to his sons but that they should follow in his footsteps and spend their days in tilling the soil ; but he had, by his own rich and vigorous conversation in the family, so imbued them with the love of knowledge, and contributed to form them to an intellectual taste, that he found them successively bent on the culti- vation of their minds, and aspiring to a vocation in which the head and the heart rather than the hands would be chiefly put in requisition. The sub- ject of this sketch, the eldest of three of his sons who became Episcopal clergymen, took the lead in that course of vigorous effort and self-denial, which was necessary to secure the object upon which his heart was so much set ; and he not only succeeded in accomplishing his own preparation for the sacred office, but rendered important aid to his younger brothers also. After he withdrew from the farm, it was by teaching fi school, part of the year, that he was enabled to obtain the means of prosecuting Lis studies during the remainder of it ; though it is to be presumed that he carried forward the process of teaching and of studying, to some extent, at the same time. After having made considerable progress in his studies, by his own unassisted- efforts, and by means of such private aids as he could command, he became a member of the Episcopal Academy at Cheshire, Conn., then under the care of the Kev. Dr. Bronson, and at that time a highly flourishing institution. Here he pursued both his classical and the- ological course, and remained a diligent student until about the time that he was prepared to engage in the active duties of the ministry. After receiving Deacon's Orders from Bishop Moore, of New York, in 1810, he directed his course into the Western part of the State of New York, where, for many years, he laboured with untiring zeal, and often in the face of appalling obstacles, in the capacity of a missionary. On the 5th of September, 1812, he was ordained Priest by Bishop Hobart, at Auburn ; and, two days after, was married by the same Prelate, at Skene- ateles, to Jacintha, daughter of Peter Anspach, Esq., who still (1858) survives. He preached statedly at Auburn for nine months, and found it in many respects a very desirable location ; but his regard for the inter- • MSS. from his family, and the Rt. Rev. Bishop B. T. Ondeidonk. •WILLIAM ATWATER CLARK. 537 csts of the Church at large, and the wish to induce other ministers to fol- low him into that destitute region, led him to abandon the post at which he would otherwise gladly have remained, and make his way into some less inviting field. We next find him labouring as a missionary at Manlins, Onondaga County, where, for several years, he was scattering the seed of Divine truth among a sparse but wide spread population. Here he remained till 1818, when he proceeded still farther Westward, and planted himself at Buffalo. The corner-stone of St. Paul's, the first Episcopal Church in that place, having been laid by Bishop Hobart, Mr. Clark made a journey to New York, to collect the funds necessary for the erection of the build- ing. That building was the predecessor of the present noble edifice, belonging to St. Paul's Parish, which has been erected within the last few years. On the 17th of July, 1820, Mr. Clark was instituted by Bishop Hobart into the Rectorship of Christ Church, Ballston Spa, where he laboured with his accustomed zeal and energy about four years. In 1824, he trans- ferred his residence to New York, where his services had been requested in aid of the establishment of a new parish in the Eastern part of the city. The enterprise resulted in the organization, on the 27th of May, of All Saints' Church, of which he was made the first Rector. The services having been held, for a time, at the Rector's residence, were transferred, October 10th, to a temporary chapel erected by the parish ; and thence, June 5, 1828, to the parish church, at the corner of Henry and Scammell Streets. The part of the city in which this church was located, had been, up to this time, quite destitute especially of Episcopal ministrations ; and as the result of his energetic and well directed efforts, an efficient congre- gation was gathered there, which contributed greatly to the religious pros- perity of the whole neighbourhood. " An incident occurred," says his daughter, " connected with his charge of All Saints', which it may not be unimportant to mention, as showing the truly catholic spirit by which he was always governed. When the Seventh Presbyterian Church, corner of Broome and Ridge Streets, was burned down, and thus a large Christian congregation deprived of a place for holding their religious services, my father immediately conferred with his Vestry, and tendered to their pastor, the Rev. Elihu W. Baldwin, the use of our church Sunday evenings, and between our morning and afternoon services. This to them was a great convenience, as All Saints' was the most central place where they could have met, and they gladly accepted the offer, and worshipped within our walls many months. Mr. Clark's ministry in New York continued about thirteen years. At length, he was induced, by a chronic rheumatism, which was brought on by exposure in his early missionary life, to take the resolution of passing the residue of his days in some quiet and rural situation. Accordingly, in the spring of 1837, he resigned the Rectorship of All Saints', and removed to Michigan, and settled on new land in the town of Brighton, Livingston County. Finding the people among whom his lot was now cast very neg- lectful of all religious obligations, and both the men and women passing their Sundays in the most worldly employments and recreations, he set him- VoL. V. 68 538 EPISCOPALIAN. self, as his health would permit, to use the means for bringing about a reformation. He first opened his own house for public service, and after- wards, as the congregation increased, requiring larger accommodations, there was a temporary building erected with rough board seats, and this building came ultimately to be filled with attentive and earnest hearers. Through his influence thus exerted, as well as through the more silent in- fluence of his private counsels and instructions, and uniformly holy example, an important moral change was wrought in the surrounding community. The climate of Michigan at first seemed likely to work a salutary change in his health ; but after a while his attacks of rheumatism began to be more frequent, and were probably aggravated by the necessary exposure, in getting his land in subjection, and attending to various other concerns involved in a settlement upon a new place. But though he suffered much from this malady, it did not finally terminate his life. He died of an attack of congestion of the lungs which continued for only a few hours, on the 13th of September, 1841. He lies buried in the village cemetery of Brighton, where his last years were spent, and his last earthly services were performed. Mr. Clark was honoured with the degree of Master of Arts, from Columbia College, in 1824, and of Doctor of Divinity, from Alleghany College, in 1831. His publications are A Short Account of the Proceedings of the Camp Meeting holden by the Methodists in Pittsfield, 1808 ; [This is understood to have been a joint production of himself and one or more of his fellow-stu- dents ;] A Sermon delivered to the Brethren of the Western Star Lodge, on the Festival of St. John, 1819 ; A Sermon delivered to the Sunday Schools of the Episcopal Church of New York ; The Last Appeal to the Conscience of an Intemperate Man, in a Letter to his Friend, 1832 ; A Sermon preached during the General Excitement respecting Sunday Mails, entitled, — "No Connection between the Kingdom of Christ and Civil Governments ; " and " The Steward's Beckoning " — a Volume of eighteen Seripons, published by request of the Vestry of All Saints', New York, 1833. Dr. Clark had nine children, — four sons and five daughters. One of the sons, John W., was graduated at Columbia College, and at the General Theological Seminary, New York, and is now Eector of Grace Church, Chicago. Another son, William A., is a distinguished lawyer in Michigan. The Kt. Eev. Bishop Onderdonk, who knew Dr. Clark well, says, — " He exercised a faithful aud useful ministry, was an exemplary Christian, and of very respectable natural and acquired ability. He had also many inte- resting qualities for social and friendly intercourse." FROM JOHN MILLER, M. D. New Toek, June 27, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir : In compliance with a request from some of the members of the late Dr. William A. Clark's family, I beg to convey to you some of the impressions which he made upon me, and which remain fresh after the lapse of so many years. My acquaintance with him commenced in 1832, while he was minister of All Saints' Church in this city. He was at that period a large portly man, and at WILLIAM ATWATER CLARK. 539 the same time of active and stirring liabits. All that could be said of a truly devoted Christian, Minister, Parent, and Friend, could be justly said of him. He established All Saints' Parish, not only amidst all the difficulties which usually attend such an enterprise, but when he had already well-nigh worn him- self out by his previous labours as a missionary. Though his health was mani- festly impaired, his energy never faltered; but he kept steadily at his work, and accomplished it in a manner that evinced a high degree of ability and perseve- rance. As an important auxiliary to the building up of his church, he was particularly careful in promoting the interests of his Sunday School — a School which, during his stay here, was more numerously attended than any other Episcopal Sunday School in the city. Uis beautiful Christian character may be well illustrated by an incident in connection with the death of his brother, the Eev. Dr. Orin Clark. The news reached him on a very stormy Saturday evening. It was impossible for him to procure any assistance for the next day; and when, on Sunday morning, the sorrow-stricken Rector appeared before his congregation, it was manifest to all that some severe affliction had overtaken him. On announcing his text, — "Yet man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward," his emotions were almost too strong for hira; but as he advanced, he became quite absorbed in his subject, and preached with unaccustomed power. When the Vestry, at the close of the morning exercises, urged him to omit the service for the afternoon, he resolutely declined, saying, — " If God gives me strength, I am resolved to per- form the labours of this day, and who knows but that I may be; instrumental of winning some soul to Christ .'" During the cholera season, he not only remained at his post, but would not intermit any of his duties, either public or private, believing, as he did, that, if the consolations of religion were ever needed, or if the warning voice of God's providence should ever be interpreted to a slumber- ing world, it was then. During the last six years of his Rectorship of the church, I was in intimate relations with him, and during four of those years I served as a Vestryman, and of course had the best opportunity of forming a judgment of his public character. His official duties he performed in a prompt and systematic way, always making it manifest that he was acting in obedience to the dictates of an enlightened conscience. He was a true Churchman, of the Bishop Hobart school, and was regarded, by tliosewho were competent to judge, as an excellent theologian. He was always gentlemanly in his deportment; and, though not at first very easy of approach, his social qualities soon developed themselves, and he was found a highly interesting companion. Hoping that these few hints, in respect to the character of my departed friend and pastor, may be of some service to you, I am yours with much respect, JOHN MILLER. 540 EPISCOPALIAN. ORIN CLARK, D. D* 1811—1828. Obin Clark, a son of John and Chloe (Atwater) Clark, and a younger brother of the subject of the sketch immediately preceding, was born at New Marlborough, Mass., on the 2d of January, 1788. In his earliest years, he was unusually delicate, insomuch that his physician gave little encouragement of his surviving the period of childhood. Such was his love of learning that he actually commenced his studies by stealth, and his elder brother, William A., being somewhat in advance of him, rendered him such aid as he could, while they were yet both engaged upon the farm. He carried his book in his pocket while he followed the plough ; and when the team stopped to rest, he stopped to study ; and in this way he learned his Latin Grammar without any interruption of his daily labour. His father having finally given his consent that he should devote himself to the ministry, (for he gave evidence of having entered on the religious life at a very early period,) he became a member, as his brother had done a short time before, of the Episcopal Academy at Cheshire. .But, as he had not the means of paying the expense of his education, he was obliged to spend the winters in teaching a school, and this, together with the intensity of his application to study, brought on a hemorrhage of the lungs, which obliged him to abandon his books for three months. He, however, per- severed in the effort to obtain an education, in spite of all the obstacles from ill health and pecuniary embarrassments ; and, having completed his course at the Academy, he was admitted to Holy Orders at New Haven, by Bishop Jarvis, in October, 1811. Mr. Clark commenced his ministry as a missionary in Ontario and Gene- see Counties, N. Y. He accompanied Bishop Hobart on his first Visita- tion in that region, in 1812, and shortly after became Rector of Trinity Church, Geneva. Notwithstanding he was a settled minister, and devoted himself with great assiduity to the interests of his own parish, he exercised a sort of general supervision of the interests of the Episcopal Church in Western New York, and was always on the alert to form churches, or intro- duce ministers, as he found opportunity. He was also very prominently concerned in the establishment of Geneva College, was one of its original Trustees, and held the office till the time of his death. The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him, in the year 1827, by Union College. Dr. Clark's health had been manifestly declining for a considerable time previous to his decease. Though he got the better in some degree of his early consumptive tendencies, the manifold hardships which he had to encounter, while acting as a missionary, soon after he entered the ministry, essentially impaired his naturally feeble constitution, so that his subsequent life, though never otherwise than active, was always, to a great extent, a struggle with infirmity. The last official act that he performed was the •MSS. fiom his daughter, Mrs. B. H. Butler, Mrs. C. M. Wiokham, Key. Dr. Babcook, A. Dox, Esq., and Kobert Rumnoy, Esq. ORIN CLAKK. 541 ceremony of marriage for two of his particular friends. It was only for a few weeks before his death that he was taken off from his active duties, and he was hopeful of his own recovery even to the last. When it was suggested by his physician, at a late hour on Saturday evening, that his father and other friends should be sent for, he expressed surprise almost amounting to displeasure that they should be subjected to such needless alarm, and remarked that he felt confident that he should attain to the age of his mother, which would have added twenty years to his life ; but he did not see the light of another day. He died on the 24th of February, 1828, in the forty-first year of his age. Dr. Clark was married three times. The first wife was Eliza Ann Kut- gers, of Geneva, formerly of New York. The second, to whom he was married in May, 1822, — Susan Kose Nicholas, daughter of the late John Nicholas, was a native of Virginia, but at the time of her marriage, a resi- dent of Geneva. She died in July, 1827. The third, to whom he was married in November preceding his death, was a Miss McComb, of New York, and still (1858) survives, having formed another matrimonial con- nection. By the first marriage there were three children, by the second, two, — all of them daughters. Robert Rumney, Esq., (now of Detroit, Mich.,) a brother-in-law and parishioner of Dr. Clark, writes thus concerning him : — " It was my privilege to know Dr. Clark, as he was in every day life. I accompanied him in most of his excursions on parish duty in the country, extending in those days several miles, through woods and over bad roads. It was my office to catch the little urchins that would run at the appearance of a minister, and bring them up for Baptism. In our rides and walks as well as by our firesides, I greatly enjoyed his conversation, and received mixch excellent instruction from him that never has been and never can be forgotten. He was ardent in all his pursuits. His generous heart was always open to the appeals of those who were in need. But perhaps his most conspicuous characteristic was his zeal for his Church and all that appertained to her. His own little flock he watched over with a truly paternal care, regarding not only their spiritual but even their temporal concerns. In the pulpit he was bold, energetic and convincing. His preaching was eminently of a searching and discriminative character. I once asked him, after listening to one of his sermons, why he singled me out in the congregation, and followed me to my store and my office. And he answered with a smile, — " Because I study myself." I do not remem- ber ever to have witnessed a more striking example of his power in the pulpit than when, on a certain occasion, he preached a sermon designed to allay some existing agitation, and to prevent some more serious appre- hended evil among his people. He took for his text that beautiful pas- sage, — "As much as in you lieth, live peaceably with all men ;" and so earnestly persuasive were his exhortations, that the spirit of strife fled at once, and peace and harmony were restored. He died in the prime of his life, and the midst of his usefulness, and many a survivor mourned his loss, and embalmed his memory." The Rev. Dr. Babcock of Ballston Spa., writes thus concerning Dr. Clark :— 542 EPISCOPALIAN. " During my preparation for the ministry, I spent one year (1817) with him at Geneva. Though I had seen him before, it was then that my acquaintance with him properly commenced. He ' was a man of very esti- mable character, of deep devotion, and winning manners, — a good scholar, a sound theologian, and a faithful preacher. He was greatly beloved by his flock." FEOM HORACE "WEBSTER, LL.D. New Tokk, July 19, 1858. Dear Sir : "When I became a Professor in Geneva College, in the fall of 1825, I found Dr. Grin Clark Rector of the Episcopal Church in that village, and a Trustee of the institution with which I thus became connected. He was my near neighbour, and I was in pleasant and intimate relations with him till his death. I had an opportunity of seeing him in a variety of circumstances, both in public and in private, and could not but receive a very definite impression of his character, — an impression that remains with a, good degree of distinctness until this day. There was nothing in his person or manner that was particularly adapted to arrest attention. In stature he was, I think, not above the medium, and inclined to stoop a little as he walked. He had dark complexion and dark eyes, and a decidedly intelligent expression of countenance. He was inclined ordina- rily rather to look downward, but when his attention was particularly awakened in conversation, his eye would meet yours in an unusually animated and pene- trating glance, that showed the powerful working of the spirit within. In his manners he was simple and unpretending, and duly attentive to all the proprie- ties of social life, while yet there was nothing about him that would ever lead you to think of the school of Chesterfield. Every thing pertaining to his exte- rior would suggest the idea that he was a more than commonly thoughtful and sagacious man. And his character corresponded with these external indications. He was dis- tinguished for his insight into the motives and principles of human action; and it must have required a much more than ordinary degree of artifice to circum- vent or impose upon him. He was a dexterous manager of worldly concerns, and while he was fair and honourable in his dealings, he did not particularly need the advice of his neighbours in making a bargain. He was a man of a kind and genial spirit, and of extensive general information, as well as of high intellec- tual qualities; and all this rendered him both an agreeable and instructive com- panion. Indeed there was much about him that was fitted to give him control of other minds. As a preacher he may be said to have held a high rank. You saw at once that his discourses were the productions of a mind of much more than common logical power. His views were of a decidedly evangelical cast, and they came out constantly in his preaching. His style was chaste and exact in a remarkable degree, considering especially that he never had the advantages of a collegiate education. His voice, which was distinct, though not very loud, he managed with very considerable skill; and this, combined with the deep earnestness that pervaded his whole manner, rendered his deliver}' more than ordinarilj' effective. I should say, on the whole, that he was a decidedly instructive and impressive preacher. In his views of Church polity and order, I suppose he was what would be called a High Churchman. Dr. Clark well deserves the commemorative notice which you propose to give of him, not merely on account of his fine intellectual and moral qualities, and high professional respectability, but on account of his having been a pioneer ORIN CLARE. 5^.3 Episcopal minister in Western New York, and one of the founders and most efficient early friends of Geneva College. Very respectfully. Your obedient servant, HORACE WEBSTER. FROM THE RT. REV. G. W. DOANE, D.D., LL. D. Riverside, August 4, 1858. My dear Sir: I remember well the Rev. Br. Orin Clark. He was the Pastor of my boyhood. The wax was soft, and the impressions are deep. My father went to Geneva in 1808. The Church, what little there was of it, was, then, " a stranger in a strange land." Geneva was an outpost — " Father Nash " had been there, and the venerable Davenport Phelps* — these were the pioneers of the Church — they came once a month. I can see him, a perfect gentleman of the old school, as he rode up, on his white horse; putting me in mind of General "Washington. The intervening Sundays were supplied with lay reading by two most excellent men, John Nicholas and Daniel W. Lewis. Judge Nicholas was prominent in political life. Mr. Lewis was a sound and learned lawyer. He came to church on horseback, with his niece and adopted daughter, now Mrs. Shelton, of Buffalo, on a pillion behind him. There was no church built, when we went to Geneva. Indeed, my father was the builder of Trinity Church. The Rev. Orin Clark, then a young man, came in aid of the Rev. Mr. Phelps. He struck me then, and the impression remains, as very like Archbishop Tillotson. I had seen his portrait in some old folio. I was catechised by him, and prepared by him for Confirmation. And I am much indebted to his earnest championship for the advantages of education. Both he and Mr. Phelps made up their minds that I would be a Clergyman. Of course they urged my being sent to College. It was a hard thing for my parents to do; but they did it. My father's house was much resorted to by the Clergy, and many a conversation do I remember in which Mr. Phelps and Mr. Clark dis- cussed, and proved, to their own entire satisfaction, the expediency, duty, and necessity, of having a Church College at Geneva. They were prophetic in their arguments. It was a great event in those days to go to College. But one had gone, before me, from Geneva. Among the inducements to send me to Union College, Mr. Clark urged the consideration that Professor Brownell, then newly come over to the Church, was there, and would be my friend. I well remember how he used to dwell on his personal beauty, and his attractive modesty, " blushing " he would sa}', " like a young girl." And he was my friend, while there, and com- ing to New York, as an Assistant Minister at Trinity Church, while I was a student of Law in Richard Harrison's office, his personal kindness and the great acceptance of his public ministrations, humanly regarded, turned the current of my life toward the Priesthood. I went with him to Hartford, as the first Professor in Washington (now Trinity) College, of which he was the founder and X Davenpoet Phelps was a grandson of the first President Wheelock, of Dartmouth Col- lege, and was graduated at that institution in 1775. Though a man of more than ordinary abilities, and of distinguished piety, it was not till the autumn of 1801 that he sought Episco- pal ordination, and received it from Bishop Benjamin Moore. He had previously resided in the neighbourhood of Dartmouth College, and was well known to the family of Bishop Chase, to whom, at Poughkeepsie, he resorted for information, before taking Orders; who esteemed him very highly, and who, in his Reminiscences, relates, with his usual vividness, the appearance of Mr. Phelps at his door on that occasion. Immediately after his ordination, he received a gene- ral appointment as a missionary in the Western parts of the State of New York, 8.nd in that character laboured well and usefully till his decease in 1813. " He is justly regarded," says the Report on the State of the Church, at the General Convention of 1814, "as the founder of the congregations in the most Westrrn portions of the State, whom he attached not merely to his personal ministrations, but to tlic doctrines, the order, and the liturgy of the Church." 544 EPISCOPALIAN. first President, and from 1816 to 1858, he has continued to be what Mr. Olark foretold, my friend. Long may he live to be the honoured and beloved Primate of the Church which he loves so well, and has served so faithfully. Dr. Orin Clark was an excellent preacher, plain and simple, but earnest and impressive. He was a diligent pastor; especially careful of the lambs of his flock. No clergyman in Western New York was held in higher respect. That he deserved it is well shown by the fact that he was honoured with the confi- dence of that consummate judge of men. Bishop Hobart. As I did not return permanently to Geneva after going to College in 1816, my memories of Dr. Clark are chiefly those of a boy. I did see him annually at the Conventions in New York until 1824, when I went to Hartford; and I deeply felt the kindness with which he continued his interest in his catechumen. He always ascribed the establishment of the Church in Geneva, at that time, to my refusing to say the Westminster Catechism at the Academy. I am quite sure that none of the Clergy of his day was more zealous and faithful in the missionary work; that none was a wiser and more devoted parish priest; that none aided the progress of the Church more by the precepts of wis- dom and the patterns of holiness, and that none was more instrumental in the foundation of Geneva College. Very truly yours, G. W. DOANE. PROM THE REV. JOHN S. STONE, D. D. RECTOK or ST. paul's chceoh, brookline, mass. Bkookline, July 24, 1858. My dear Sir : I regret my inability to serve you in relation to a sketch of the late Rev. Dr. Orin Olark of Geneva, in any other than the most general way, especially as my estimate of him is such that I have no doubt he is worthy of honourable remembrance. Dr. Clark was an able man, a well read divine, and a devout and catholic- spirited Christian. As a writer, his style was chaste and forcible; and as a preacher, his delivery was earnest and impressive. Hobart College, in Geneva, it is my impression owes its existence and establishment, if to any one more than another, to Dr. Clark. And he contributed more than almost any other man to the earlier growth and prosperity of the Episcopal Church in the West- ern parts of the State of New York. My acquaintance, so far as it was personal, with Dr. Clark, was of little more than a year's standing: it began in the year 1825, and was terminated in the year 1826 — after which time, until the period of his death, he passed out of my knowledge, except as our acqua,intance was kept up through mutual friends. But I had a very high regard for him and for his influence in all respects. I suppose that I may safely say that few men of his day, and in his circle, had a stronger hold than he, on the respect, reverence, and afiection of the public. So long a period, however, has elapsed since his death, that I fear you will find comparatively few whose recollections of him are sufficiently vivid and extended to enable them to do full justice to his memory. Very truly and respectfully yours, JOHN S. STONE. JOHN P. K. HENSHAV. 545 RT. REY. JOHN P. K. HENSHAW, D. D * 1813—1852. ^ John Prentiss Kewlet Henshaw, son of Daniel and Sally (Pren- tiss) Henshaw, was born in Middletown, Conn., on the 13th of June, 1792; but while he was quite a child, his father removed to Middlebury, Vt. Such was his forwardness in his studies, that he entered Middlebury Col- lege at the age of twelve, and graduated in 1808, at the age of sixteen. The same year he was admitted ad, endem gradum, in Harvard Univer- sity, and the following year ho spent there as a resident graduate. It was during this period, and in consequence of a visit which he made to his native place, that his mind was first deeply and permanently impressed by the truths of religion. At this time the Rev. Dr. Kewleyt was Rector of the Episcopal Church at Middletown, and was labouring there with great energy and acceptance ; and it was under his preaching that Mr. Henshaw's mind took a serious direction. By him also he was baptized ; and, in token of grateful and affectionate respect, he assumed his name.t Though he had been educated a Congregationalist, he became a devout and earnest member of the Epis- copal Church ; and soon after his return to Vermont, his family followed him to the same communion. Shortly after this, Bishop Griswold, who had then been recently conse- crated to preside over the Eastern Diocese, which embraced all the New * Ch. Rev. — MSS. from his son, Rev. Daniel Henshaw, and Rev. T. F. Davies Jr. |- Dr. Kewley was by birth an Englishman, and his parents were Roman Catholics. He was^ educated at St. Omer's, and was in early life a Jesuit. He became a physician, and practised Medicine for some time in one of the West India Islands, where he renounced the doctrines and. the Communion of the Church of Rome; joined 'Lady Huntingdon's persuasion;' preached somewhat among that Body and the Methodists, and, after coming to the United States, was- admitted to Holy Orders by Bishop Claggett. He officiated, us an Episcopal clergyman, in Alle- ghany county, Md., as early aa 1804, and remained there until 1809, when he became Rector of an Episcopal Church in Middletown, Conn., where, for four years or more, he had an uncom- monly active and useful ministry. In 1813, he became Rector of the Parish of St. George's, New-York, where he oontinued until 1816, when he resigned his charge and sailed for EuT.ope. After his departure, it was currently reported and believed that he had become reconciled to the Church of Rome, and was about to retire to one of the monastic establishments in that com- munion. But on the Sunday after his embarkation, by his own written request, prayers- for his- safe voyage were offered in one or more of the Episcopal Churches. He, however, did return to - his original ecclesiastical connection, and continued in it till his death. There was much thabwas mysterious in respect to the change ; but those who knew him best are said to have given him. credit for sincerity. It is a singular circumstance that, though he never made any secret of his having been educated in the Church of Rome, he had never shown, either in public or pri- vate, the slightest leaning towards the tenets of that Church. He is represented as having.- been a man of great meekness and suavity ; untiring in the discharge of his holy functions, and; fervent and effective in his preaching. He published (in the Churchman's Magazine) a Sermon delivered at the Opening of the Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Maryland, 1806; also, a Sermon entitled " Messiah the Physician of Souls," preached at Middletown and Cheshire, 1811. X Of this circumstance Bishop Henshaw's son, the Rev. Daniel Henshaw, writes thus ; — "It may not be uninteresting for you to know that my father bore the name of Kewley before he or his family knew any thing of the Rev. Dr. Kewley. My grandfather had a bachelor friend in England, who requested, on hearing of the birth of my father, that the boy should be named Kewley, after him, — for that was his name. My father was not baptized in hi& infancy. In some way this English friend, Kewley, displeased the family, or at least my father ; for he, when a mere child, took it into his head that he would no longer be called Kewley. Tne family were amused, to say the least, by the child's course, and thenceforward, until his Baptism by Dr. Kewley, [who seems to have been in no way connected with the other Mr. Kewley,) the " K " was dropped from his name. It waa resumed at that time, out of regard &E one to whom ha- was indebted, under God, for many spiritual blessings." Vol.. V. 69 546 EPISCOPALIAX. England States, except Connecticut, came to Mlddlebury, and under his authority young Henshaw was commissioned to act as a lay reader. By means of his zealous labours, several congregations were established in different parts of the State. But wishing to pass through a regular course of preparation for the ministry, he soon went to Bristol, II. I., where Bishop Griswold resided, and placed himself under his care. Still officiating as lay reader, he is said to have had an important instrumen- tality, in the absence of the Bishop, in bringing about an extensive reli- gious awakening, that greatly rejoiced the Bishop's heart, in 1812. On the 19th of July, 1814, Mr. Henshaw was married to Mary, daugh- ter of Isaac and Sarah Gorham, of Bristol, R. I. They had eleveh child- ren, only four of whom now (1857) survive. One son, Daniel, was graduated at Yale College in 1842, entered the ministry, and is Eector of St. Andrew's Church, Providence. At Bishop Griswold's earnest request, he went to Marblehead, Mass., while yet only a lay reader, and spent some time there, in 1814-15, in endeavouring to resuscitate a church, which had, for a considerable time, seemed almost verging towards extinction ; and his labours were attended by a marked blessing. On the very earliest day in which he could be oanonically ordained, — (June 13, 1813, — the twenty-first anniversary of his birth,) Bishop Griswold admitted him to the Order of Deacons, in St. Michael's Church, Bristol. He was almost immediately after chosen to serve in St. Ann's Church, Brooklyn, N. Y., where he was ordained Priest by Bishop Hobart, on the 13th of June, 1816, — his twenty-fourth birth-day. In the spring of 1817, Mr. Henshaw accepted a call to St. Peter's Church, Baltimore ; a church which, though for many years it had enjoyed a high degree of prosperity, had, owing to certain adverse circumstances connected with the ministry of his predecessor, sunk to almost the lowest point of depression. But the zeal and ability of the new Rector proved adequate to the exigency, and the interests of the church very soon revived under his ministry. Here he remained a most faithful and devoted pastor for twenty-six years ; and what the amount of his success, during this period, was, may be inferred from the fact that whereas, upon his acces- sion to the Rectorate, there were only forty-five communicants, when he closed his labours there, there were four hundred and seventy-four ; and the whole number added during his incumbency was nine hundred. He had also baptized one thousand and eighteen persons, and presented five hun- dred and six for Confirmation. The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon Mr. Henshaw by his Alma Mater, in 1830. While he lived in Maryland, Dr. Henshaw, though intensely devoted to the spiritual interests of his own flock, exerted an influence that reached much beyond it. He had an important agency in the erection of several new churches, and the establishment of several new congregations ; and being one of the most popular and effective preachers in the region, his services were often put in requisition, and sometimes in distant parts of the country, in aid of special efforts to advance the Kingdom of Christ. He was a devoted friend to the cause of Missions. His large heart delighted to recognise the world as his field ; and wherever there were JOHs P. K. ^E^'SIIA■w. 547 human beings shut out from the light of the Gospel or the means of grace, ho was ready to co-operate in any effort to enlighten and save them. He performed most important service in the Conventions, both Diocesan and General. It was no small testimony to his ability and usefulness, that he was a Representative of the House of Clerical and Lay Deputies of the General Convention, from whatsoever Diocese he lived in, almost without interruption, from the year 1814, when still a Deacon, to the year 1843, when he was transferred to the House of Bishops. Dr. Henshaw's relations, not only with his own people, but with his brethren in the ministry, with Christians of other denominations, and with the community at large, were, during the whole period of his residence in Baltimore, every thing he could desire. He had been repeatedly nomi- nated for the Episcopate of Maryland, when a vacancy occurred in it, and in each case received a large vote, though not sufficient to elect him. At length, in 1843, he was chosen to fill that office in Rhode Island, which, after the death of Bishop Griswold, had been made a distinct Diocese. At the same time, he was elected Rector of Grace Church, in Providence. He felt called upon to accept these offices, though it cost him a bitter pang to sunder the tie which had so long bound him to his own beloved flock. He soon removed with his family to Providence, and almost immediately began the work of Church extension. In the face of obstacles which few would have had the resolution to encounter, he planned and accomplished the erection of a new, spacious and magnificent church edifice, in place of the small and ancient building which Grace Church had previously occu- pied. He was alike energetic and successful in his Diocese ; and, during the nine years that he presided over it, its growth was at once constant, rapid and healthful. Bishop Henshaw enjoyed excellent health until late in the summer of 1848. He then had a sudden and alarming attack, in reference to which he writes in his private journal as follows: — "About two o'clock this morning, I awolce with a severe stricture, » pain in the breast and in the arms, interrupting free respiration, and sometimes threatening suffo- cation. I am fully persuaded that the symptoms are those of 'angina pectoris,' affecting the larger vessels of the heart, the disease with which my father died. I consider these attacks, therefore, not only as tokens of an incurable disease, but as warnings from my Heavenly Father to be fully prepared and daily watching for my change. I referred to the importance of this in my last Address to the Convention, which occurred on the Anniversary of my birth-day, and of my ordination as Deacon and Priest. But I probably little thought, at that time, that I should so soon have an unequivocal warning like this. Lord, give me true repentance and free forgiveness for all my past sins. Sanctify me more thoroughly. Give me grace to make all need- ful preparation. May I live every day as if it were my last. May I have my loins gilded about, and my lamp trimmed and burning, and may I be like unto the ser- vant who waits for the coming of his Lord. Hear me, Lord, and answer for Jesus' sake." In the summer of 1850, he had an attack of apoplexy ; from which, however, he was soon relieved, with slight apparent consequences. A few months after, he was bereaved of a beloved son in a foreign land ; — which he felt as a sore affliction, though he bowed submissively before it as a fatherly chastisement, and seemed most of all desirous that it might be sanctified to his surviving children. In the summer of 1852, Bishop Whittingham, of Maryland, finding it necessary, on account of his failing health, to make a voyage to Europe, 548 EPISCOPALIAN. requested Bishop Henshaw to perform certain Episcopal duties in his Dio- cese, which he was compelled to leave undischarged. The selection was regarded as highly appropriate ; and his old friends in Maryland were pre- pared to greet him with a most cordial welcome. On the 5th of July, after a domestic festival, in which all his family were permitted to partici- pate, he left home, accompanied hy his youngest son, and apparently in better health thad he had enjoyed for some time. On reaching Baltimore, he was congratulated by his friends on the unexpected degree of vigour which he manifested, from which they were encouraged to hope that the dangers which had seemed to threaten him, were, for the time at least, averted. On the 11th of the month, he preached and confirmed in two churches in Greorgetown, D. C, where also he was fortunate enough to meet Bishop Johns of Virginia, who had long been one of his most inti- mate and endeared friends. During the next week, he was diligently occupied with his official duties, — travelling, preaching, confirming, administering the Communion, and exerting himself to the utmost in extreme heat, and even after the symptoms of serious indisposition had begun to appear. On Sunday, the 18th of July, he rode twenty miles, and performed all the usual services. The next day, he rode eighteen miles to another church, and his carriage having broke down on the way, he was so exhausted when he reached the place, as to be scarcely able to stand. Contrary to the expressed wishes of the people, who were witnesses of his weakness, he again did every thing which his appointment contemplated. He lodged that night at the house of a Mr. Kichardson, a worthy member of the Church, who lived about seven miles from Frederick. The next morning, about day break, he was struck with apoplexy, aud about one o'clock, P. M., closed his earthly course. When he knew that his end was near, he endeavoured to comfort his young son, almost overwhelmed with grief; gave him some necessary directions in respect to his money and clothes ; sent affectionate messages to his family ; and then quietly waited for the decisive change. His remains were carried first to Baltimore, and lay for a while in the church where his voice had for so many years been heard, that his nume- rous friends there might see his face once more ; after which, they were conveyed to his family in Providence, where, in the midst of his own Dio- cese, he found his final resting place. The following are Bishop Henshaw's publications : — A Sermon preached before the Society for the Education of Pious Young Men for the Ministry, in the Protestant Episcopal Church, at the fifth Annual Meeting held in Christ Church, Alexandria, 1823. An Oration delivered before the Asso- ciated Alumni of Middlebury College at the Commencement, 1827. A Volume of Hymns, (5th edition), 1832. The Usefulness of Sunday Schools : A Sermon preached at the request of the American Sunday School Union, in St. Andrew's Church, Philadelphia, 1833. A Tract on Con- firmation. Communicant's Guide. " Henshaw's Sheridan," consisting of Lessons on Elocution, and Instructions and Criticisms on the Reading of the Church Service, 1834. Theology for the People : A Course of Ser- mons on the Church Catechism, preached in St. Peter's Church, Baltimore, 1840. A Sermon occasioned by the death of the Et. Rev. Richard Chan- JOHN p. K. HENSHAW. 549 ning Moore, D. D., 1841. A Sermon occasioned by the death of President Harrison, 1841. Memoir of the Life of the Rt. Rev. Richard Channing Moore, D. D., 1842. An Inquiry concerning the Second Advent, 1842. Lectures on the terms Priest, Altar, and Sacrifice, as used in the Prayer Book, 1843. The Work of Christ's Living Body: A Sermon preached before the Convention of the Diocese of Maryland, 1843. A Discourse on the Signs of the times, delivered before the Board of Missions at its first Triennial meeting after his Consecration. A Sermon at the Consecration of the Rt. Rev. George Burgess, D. D., 1847. A Charge to the Clergy and Laity of the Diocese of Rhode Island, on the Stewardship of the Christian Ministry, 1848. A Discourse on the occasion of the Third Jubilee, or one hundred and fiftieth Anniversary of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, 1851. A Charge to the Clergy and Laity of the Diocese of Rhode Island on the Duties of Churchmen in these times, 1852. FROM THE REV. JOHN COLEMAN, D. D. Philadelphia, November 17, 1854. Dear Sir: My acquaintance with the revered and beloved Bishop Ilenshaw, did not become very intimate till the year 1833. Though very young at the time, I distinctly remember the peculiar and exciting circumstances under which he came as a stranger (though preceded by an already acquired reputation for piety, eloquence, and talents) to my native city, Baltimore, in the spring of 1817, having been called to succeed the Rev. George Dashiell in the Rectorship of St. Peter's. The condition of the latter parish, at the time, was one of almost utter ruin, produced by the unhappy course of its late pastor, who had been compelled to resign, and was subsequently degraded from the ministry; and it had temporarily lapsed into the sin of schism. The immense congregation, which had been distinguished for its religious activity, was now scattered and disorganized; although quite an important minority still adhered to Mr. Dashiell, for whom they built a new house of worship, and to which they followed him. Mr. Henshaw was but twenty-four years of age, when he assumed this arduous charge — one surrounded with so many embarrassments and obstacles to success, that no ordinary clergyman would have had the courage to face them. But such was the young Rector's admirable patience, wisdom, and piety, that, hy God's blessing on his peculiar qualifications for the discharge of duties at once so dif- ficult and so delicate, he " raised up the tabernacle that was fallen, and closed up the breaches thereof, and built it as in the days of old." Sunday evening, September 22d, 1833, will ever be remembered by me as one of the most important epochs of my life. For seven years preceding, I had been a member of the Methodist denomination, and during all that time was severely tried by alternate conviction and doubt as to a call to the ministry. On the evening mentioned I was led, in a singularly providential way, to attend St. Peter's Church; and the sermon of Mr. (or as he had now become Dr.) Hen- shaw so powerfully affected me that I could no longer doubt as to the path of duty, and that it pointed me to the ministry of the Protestant Episcopal Church. Dr. H. felt a deep interest in young men, and during the forty years of his min- istry, amidst the multiplicity of his other labours and cares, directed the theo- logical studies of a very large number, several of whom have preceded him to that " rest " into which he has lately entered, while all who survive now mourn him as a father. Encouraged by a knowledge of his character in this respect, I waited upon him in a few days to seek his advice; and was received with a kind- ness which exceeded my expectations, and encouragement far beyond what I 550 EPISCOPALIAN. anticipated. I well remember that his first words, after I had laid before him my perplexities and fears, were those of Holy Scripture — "The meek will He guide in judgment, and the meek will He teach his way." He, at once, in the most cordial manner, profiered me all the aid in his power — the free use of his library, his personal instructions, and whatever could facilitate my entrance into the ministry; and lean never forget how closely and tenderly, from that moment, he acted a parent's part towards me. It is not strange that his numerous stu- dents, with so many opportunities, afforded by the intimate and endearing rela- tion which he Ijore to them, ofbecoming acquainted with his character as a man, a Christian, a clergyman, a pastor, a preceptor and friend, should have so revered and loved him. By Dr. Henshaw I was presented for Conflrmation, and admitted to the Com- munion of the Church; and, upon application made through him, I was received as a candidate for Holy Orders. He was appointed by the Bishop to direct my studies, and in connection with Dr. Johns, (then Rector of Christ Church, Bal- timore, now Assistant Bishop of Virginia,) to conduct my examinations. By him also I was presented to the Bishop, when I was ordained, both as Deacon and as Priest. A very free and unreserved correspondence between us was kept up until the day of his death, and I need not say how carefully I preserved, and Low highly I prize, his numerous valuable letters. I trust, my dear Sir, that it will not protract this letter to an unreasonable length, to mention, as illustrative of the character of Bishop Henshaw, an inci- dent for which I am indebted to an actual witness of it, the Eev. Dr. McJilton, of Baltimore. An effort had been commenced in 1840, by the congregation of St. Peter's, urged on by the masterly eloquence of the Rector, to establish a new church in the "Western part of the city. At a parish meeting called for the pur- pose of considering the enterprise, with the tears rolling down his cheeks, he made such an appeal to their sympathies as could not be resisted. For years St. Peter's had been filled, and many families were annually lost to the church, in consequence of the impossibility of procuring pews. "Upon many of their infant brows," said he, "I have poured the waters of Baptism. I have met them frequently at the chancel for catechetical instruction. I have prepared them for the solemn dedication of themselves to God in the Holy rite of Confir- mation. I have presented them to the Bishop, and stood by with all but a parent's interest, while they received the sacred ordinance that ratified the Baptismal vows. And after all this, to know that they were compelled to leave the church, because there was not room for their accommodation in it, is a thing of painful, grievous recollection. I have followed them with my interest and my prayers ; but it is anguish indescribable to me that they can no more receive my instructions, and that I cannot now bear them as my own upon the arms of faith; that I cannot lead them as portions of my flock beside the still waters of comfort in the Gospel." Under the impression of this address, a Vestry for the new church was appointed, and services commenced. There were, however, numerous difficulties chiefly in the way of raising the necessary funds; and by these Dr. Henshaw was greatly troubled. Dr. McJilton, who was then a candidate for Orders, and Secretary of the Vestry, writes thus : — " It was a matter of great anxiety to him (Dr. H.) that the new church should be admitted into union with, and represented in, the Convention of the Dio- cese in I84I. He was fearful that, if it was not then admitted, the parties engaged in it would slacken their energies, and the enterprise prove a failure. The day before that for the assembling of the Convention, I made several ineffec- tual efforts to obtain a meeting of the Vestry, for the purpose of properly organ- izing the church, and preparing for its admission into the Convention. After service at night in the lecture- room of St. Peter's, I informed the deceased of the JOHX P. K. UENSIIAW. 55I apparent indifference of the Vestry in relation to the new church, and of my repeated failures to procure a meeting. With a mingled mildness, determination and dignity in his countenance, he said to me — 'You must have a meeting of your Vestry to-night, if midnight arrives before you can get the members togotlier. If the organization is not effected to-night, the effort to build the church is a failure.' His speech, and the earnest manner in which he expressed himself, inspired me with a new determination; and late as it was, — nearly ten at night, I started on my yet doubtful mission. The animated image of the deceased was continually before me, and I hurried on in the accomplishment of his desire. It was more than midnight — it was one o'clock in the morning, before the Vestry could be assembled; for nearly every member had to be aroused from his bed. But the deed was done. The meeting took place. The church was officially organized, and all the necessary arrangements effected. The next day, it was admitted by the Convention into union with the Church, and had its representatives on the floor of the Convention. To the efforts of that niglit, so urgently impelled, and so certainly occasioned by himself, did the deceased ever after attribute the success of his enterprise in the erection of the Church of the Ascension." Dr. Henshaw delivered the Address at the laying of the corner-stone of the building, and had the pleasure of assisting in its consecration. I may add that the congregation has gone on to prosper, and is now one of the most flourishing in the city of Baltimore. Nor is this the only place of worship there, whose erection he procured by his own efforts; while he materially assisted in the establishment of several others. My last interview with Bishop Henshaw was the day after he left home to perform temporary Episcopal duties in Maryland. It was arranged, at that time, that, if possiblcj I should join him at some one of his appointments, and accompany him during the remainder of his Vi.';itation. But alas, I little thought, on grasping his hand at parting that evening, when he appeared in such excellent health and spirits, — that I should see his face no more! In a few days, a telegraphic despatch announced the sad and astounding intelligence of his sudden death. The lamentation occasioned by this event was as extensive as the Church itself in this country, in every part of which it was felt that we had been deprived of one of our most pious, faithful and able Bishops. Many interesting and endearing reminiscences connected with Bishop Henshaw spring up, on which I should love to linger; but I fear that my pen has already run to a greater length than is consistent with the plan of your proposed work — for the success of which you have my best wishes. Very truly and respectfully, I am, Eev. and dear Sir, Your friend and servant, JOHN COLEMAN. FROM THE RT. REV. THOMAS ATKINSON, D. D., BISHOP OF THE DIOCESE OF NORTH CAROLINA. Ealeioh, N. C, June 1, 1855. Rev. and dear Sir: In reply to your very courteous letter, it gives me pleasure to state my impressions of Bishop Henshaw. My acquaintance with him was slight until 1843, when I was chosen to fill the vacancy in the Rectorship of St. Peter's Church, Baltimore, which had been produced by his resignation consequent on his election to the Episcopate of Rhode Island. From that time until his death, I saw a good deal of him in Baltimore, a city to which he was warmly attached, and where he had many 552 EPISCOPALIAJf. devoted frieuds; in the cities where the Boards and General Conventions of our Uhurcli met; and at his own hospitable home. Being his successor in a parish where he had spent almost the whole of his ministerial life, his son being for some years my Assistant in the same parish, and entertaining very similar views as to doctrine and Church polity, there was considerable intimacy between us, marked, on his part, by confidence and kindness, and on mine by great respect and very high regard. My opinion of him, which had been favourable before I knew him, was very much heightened by personal acquaintance, and by the observations I made on the field of his former labours. His appearance was, as I believe often happens, characteristic of the man. He never was tall, and in early life he was thin, and then, I have understood, was strikingly handsome. When I knew him, he had become stout, and exliibited a robustness of frame which seemed to promise vigour of character, and great capacity of endurance. And these qualities he certainly possessed in a remark- able degree. He was a bold, manly, independent, self-centered person, always calm, always ready, and exercising, consequently, great authority over those with whom he was associated. His forehead was open and expanded, and indicated breadth of intellect. His eyes furnished a striking illustration of one of the prin- ciples of phrenology. It is well known that the professors of that system teach that the organ of language, or memory of words, is set under the eyes, so that when the organ is large and much developed, the eyes are made prominent ; and certainly in the case of Bishop Henshaw, the concurrence of these things was \ery observable. There was the fulness and prominence of eye, and there was the power of language, the readiness and tenacity of memory. It is said that by once reading over a sermon of his own composition, he would be able to repeat it with literal accuracy, and at the same time with entire freedom. His com- mand of language gave him great readiness in debate, and this being sustained by thorough mastery of the subjects he discussed, and general soundness of mind, and vigour of argumentation, caused his voice to be listened to with peculiar respect in any assembly in which he sat. In confirmation of this, I may add that I have heard an eminent man, who was himself distinguished as a debater in the most conspicuous arena in this country, say that he had never attempted to reply to any man who more completely exhausted all that could be said in behalf of his side of any question, than Bishop Henshaw. At the same time I do not wish to represent him as being a man of the very highest order of intellect, for this he certainly was not. Of course it would be absurd to compare him with such reasoners as Hooker and Butler, who have conquered new worlds of human thought, or with such masters of Rhetoric as Jeremy Taylor or Massillon — nay we do not see in his sermons or other compositions, any thing to remind us of the profound analysis of John Henry Newman, or of the glowing brilliancy of Chalmers and Melville. We observe the workings of a mind naturally clear, sound, and vigorous, trained to patient labour, and accustomed to express its conceptions in language which is always perspicuous and appropriate; some- times ornate, but never clothed with that garb with which a master mind arrays its stalwart intellectual progeny. As compared, however, with the great body of intelligent and educated men, he was manifestly and incontestibly their supe- rior. He was an eminently wise counsellor. Not only did his reach of thought ajid soundness of judgment contribute to this, but likewise his moral power, his calm, firm temperament, not easily swayed by the passions or interests of' the moment. He was therefore much consulted by a wide circle of friends and fel- low-labourers, while in charge of a single congregation, as well as when placed over a Diocese. And I have reason to believe that, short as was the period of his Episcopate, it was long enough to manifest the value of his judgment and. laborious industry, and to impart great weight to his opinions in the delibera- tions of his brethren in that office. JOHN P. K. HENSHAW. ' 553 As a preacher, he stood very high. He did not read his sermons, as is usual with clergymen of the Episcopal Church, but he composed them with care, and incorporated in them the results of much study and thought. When necessary, however, he spoke purely extemporaneously, and showed peculiar aptitude for that sort of discourse, having great readiness of thought and command of lan- guage. So distinguished were his powers in the pulpit that, by universal consent, he ranked among the foremost preachers in the city of Baltimore, a place never sterile in that sort of talent, and indeed was by not a few considered to be entitled to the highest place of all. But his abihties as a preacher did not, by any means, constitute his strongest claim to the admiration and respect of his fellow-men. This rested on his devo- tion as a minister, his benevolence, his purity, his piety as a man. Having suc- ceeded him in that charge which he longest filled, I could trace his footsteps in the field he cultivated, and better estimate his assiduity and faithfulness. His capacity for labour was immense. He had a very large congregation, and no assistant, and rarely left the city for rest or refreshment; but from year's end to year's end, he had the same circle of duty. He was engaged publicly, and from house to house, teaching, admonishing, rebuking, exhorting, consoling. With great force of character he united tenderness of feeling. He was the friend as well as the minister of his people. He sympathized in their sorrows, and attracted towards himself an unusual measure of their affection, and espe- cially, I may add, was this true of those in humble life. He left behind him in Baltimore persons to whom no other minister could ever supply his place. When transferred to the charge of a Diocese, the same qualities were exhibited by him, and as far as time was allowed him, the same results were accomplished. He was well qualified to rule men by his energy, his wisdom, his calm fortitude, and at the same time, the kindness of his feelings. And though I saw his Dio- cese but rarely, and only as a stranger, I am well assured that it prospered very much under his administration. While in Rhode Island, he held, in con- junction with his Episcopate, the charge of a parish, which greatly increased under his labours, and leaving a comparatively small and inconvenient building, erected for itself one of the noblest church edifices in the country. If success, then, be regarded as a test of merit in a minister of Christ, his merit must have been remarkable. Nor was he only successful in building up congre- gations — he had a higher skill — he built up souls. Many touching instances have I known of admirable faith and love exhibited in life and in death by those who had been guided and fed by this faithful shepherd of souls. And I ought to add my conviction that much of his efficiency in this highest of all labours resulted from the fulness and fervour with which he was accustomed to preach Jesus Christ and Him crucified. He did not neglect to insist on man's duties, and the privileges of which he is made partaker by membership in the Church of Godj but the burden of his preaching was our redemption by the one Media- tor, and the excellencies of that Mediator. He was withal a man of large heart and large views. Amid his manifold labours in his especial field, he found time to devote to the general interests of the Church, the dissemination of the Scrip- tures, Missions, Domestic and Foreign, and the Education of young men for the Ministry. With these last two causes he was especially identified. On the whole, I do not hesitate to declare my conviction that, in losing Bishop Henshaw, the Episcopal Church in the United States lost one of its brightest ornaments, and one of its strongest earthly supports, and lost him at a time when his services were most needed and most valued. And that this was the general sentiment of that Church was manifest from the respect paid to his memory throughout her borders. I remain, with great respect, yours faithfully, THOMAS ATKINSON. Vol. V. 70 554: EPISCOPALIAN. GREGORY TOWNSEND BEDELL, D. D * 1814—1834. Gregory Townsend Bedell, was born on Staten Island, N. Y., on the 28th of October, 1793. His father was Israel Bedell, a man of great excellence of character, and much beloved by all who knew him. His mother was a sister of the Rt. Rev. Richard Channing Moore, D. D., Bishop of Virginia. She was distinguished alike for her personal attrac- tions, her mental accomplishments, her fine, amiable disposition, and her consistent Christian life. Gregory was the only son of his parents ; though his father had three daughters by a former marriage, who, after his mother's death, which occurred when he was nine years old, had much to do in superintending his education and moulding his character. From early childhood, he was distinguished for a gentle, benevolent and forgiving spirit, and for a remarkable talent for music, insomuch that when he was only two years old, he could sing several tunes with great accuracy. He was of a delicate constitution, and his nervous system was even painfully susceptible. In consequence of the failure of his father in business, not long after his mother's death, the family became so much embarrassed that they were apprehensive of being obliged to abandon the idea which they had previ- ously entertained of giving him a collegiate education. It turned out, however, that through the considerate generosity of a distant female rela- tive, the obstacle was removed, and he was sent, at her expense, to the Episcopal Academy at Cheshire, Conn. Here he became a universal favour- ite, and his father was gladdened, from time to time, by the good accounts he received in regard to both his deportment and his improvement. After he had remained at Cheshire two years, the means upon which he had depended for support failed, and he was obliged to return home. His prospect of obtaining a liberal education was now, for some time, very dubious ; but so desirous were his sisters, who had always been devotedly attached to him, to see this object accomplished, that they resolved to devote the whole of their little substance, which had been saved amidst their father's misfortunes in business, to his education. Accordingly, in 1807, he entered Columbia College in the city of New York. His health, during his whole college life, was very infirm, insomuch that, but for the influence of his devoted sisters, he would have withdrawn from College, and directed his attention to some active pursuit ; but still, through his whole course, he held a highly respectable standing as a scholar, though he was distinguished more in classical than scientific studies. Soon after his graduation in 1811, he commenced his preparation for Holy Orders, under the direction of Dr. How, one of the Assistant Minis- ters of Trinity Church, New York. He was now brought into the most intimate relations with Bishop Hobart, towards whom he ever afterwards entertained an affectionate regard, though his views and the Bishop's on • Memoirs by Rev. Dr. Tyng.— MS. from Ha sonj Eev. Dr. G. T. Bedell. GREGORY TOWNSEND BEDELL. 555 many subjects, became, in the course of time, considerably diverse. Tbe Bishop ordained him on the 4th of November, 1814, within one week after he had attained the canonical age. Mr. Bedell's first appearance in the pulpit awakened an uncommon inter- est — his remarkably graceful elocution combined with his finished style of composition to render him one of the most attractive young preachers of his day. During the winter and spring after his ordination, he travelled into the Southern States, visiting several of the more important cities ; and he became a general favourite in the various circles into which he was thrown. After his return from this tour, he passed a few months with his father in the city of New York ; and though he had received invitations to settle in various places, one of which was from a very prominent church in one of the Southern States, yet his anxiety to be near his father and family induced the determination to remain in his native State, and he subse- quently accepted the charge of the church at Hudson. He removed to this place in the beginning of the summer of 1815. On the 29th of October, 1816, Mr. Bedell was married to Penelope Thurston of Hudson — a lady every way worthy of his affections, and fitted for the place she was destined to occupy. The oifspring of this marriage were a son and a daughter. The son is the Rev. Gr. T. Bedell, D. D., now (1857) Rector of the Church of the Ascension in the city of New York. Mr. Bedell's ministry at Hudson continued not far from three years. During the first part of it, his standard of Christian character as well as of ministerial duty, seems to have been, in his own subsequent judgment, low ; but his mind gradually acquired a spiritual tone, his views of Chris- tian truth became more distinct and intelligent, and his thoughts and efi"orts were directed with new ardour towards the great objects of the ministry. In the summer of 1818, he was recommended by Bishop Hobart as a suit- able person to take charge of the Church in Fayetteville, N. C. : a unani- mous call was soon after made out and transmitted to him ; and, though at first he felt great reluctance to enter into an arrangement that should fix his residence at so great a distance from his early friends and associations, yet, having become satisfied, on mature reflection, that his duty pointed him thither, he gave an afSrmative answer to the call ; and, after being ordained a Presbyter in July, he removed with his family, in October of the same year, to Fayetteville. Here he was instituted as Rector of the church, and entered with great diligence and zeal upon his new field of labour. The grand object at which he now steadily aimed was the conversion and spiritual grt)wth of his peo- ple ; and, in addition to the stated services of the Lord's day, he estab- lished a weekly meeting for prayer and the exposition of the Scriptures, at his own house. He succeeded in healing painful difierenees which had existed between some of the members of the Episcopal and Presbyte- rian Churches ; and showed himself ready to co-operate with other denomi- nations for the promotion of the common cause of truth and righteousness, so far as he believed was consistent with his own obligations as an Episco- pal minister. The formation of the American Bible Society seems first to have directed his thoughts to this point ; and the result of his reflection 556 EPISCOPALIAN. upon it was a marked change in his views, and a corresponding change in his conduct. In the autumn of 1819, ho was visited with a violent disease, which, though not of long continuance, sufficiently proved the unfavourable influ- ence of the climate upon his constitution. Successive attacks of fever and ague, endured by both himself and his wife, made it more probable, in each succeeding year, that he would be obliged to seek some other residence. During the summer of 1821, he made a visit of some length to his friends in the city of New York, and returned to Payetteville in the autumn, with much improved health. He came to the conclusion, however, — and in it his friends felt obliged to concur, — that it was absolutely necessary for him to find a settlement in a more Northern climate. Accordingly, in the spring of 1822, after a residence at Fayetteville of three years and a half, during which his ministry had, in various ways, been greatly blessed, he took leave of his devoted and then flourishing congregation. He resolved upon that step as a matter of necessity, and without knowing to what point he should direct his steps ; but while he was making the arrangements for his removal, he received a letter from the Rev. Benjamin Allen of Phila- delphia, requesting that he would pay a visit to that city, with a view to his being heard as a candidate by the United Churches, in which there was, at that time, a vacancy. This vacancy, however, being filled before he left Fayetteville, the same friend suggested to him the idea of gathering a new congregation in the same city. In the early part of May, 1822, Mr. Bedell arrived with his family in Philadelphia, and was cordially received by his friend, Mr. Allen, who had himself been but about six months a resident of the city. Though the pro- ject of gathering a new church met with but little favour, a few indivi- duals were found who consented to enlist in it ; and they at once drew up and signed a call to Mr. Bedell for one year, which he accepted. The result was the establishment of St. Andrew's Church, which grew rapidly into one of the most prominent churches in Philadelphia. Mr. Bedell very soon acquired great popularity as a preacher, and found himself in a situa- tion eminently favourable to his comfort and usefulness. In the year 1830, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divin- ity from Dickinson College, Carlisle. For a few of the first years of his ministry in Philadelphia, his health was comparatively good ; but, after about four years, it became manifest that he was overworked ; and the decay of strength and the frequent rais- ing of blood seemed to indicate that his race was nearly run. But he lived and laboured much beyond the expectations of his friends. In the spring of 1829, he suffered a violent attack of his disease, which it was confidently expected would prove fatal ; though he recovered from it, and was able afterwards to return to his accustomed labours. In the winter of 1834, he was much confined to the house, and attempted only an occasional discharge of public duty through the spring. Early in the succeeding summer, he removed with his family to Bristol, Pa., where he found a quiet retreat every way congenial with his feelings, and whence he was able to pay occa- sional visits, by water, to Philadelphia. About this time, by the advice of friends, he consented to make a journey, in company with his wife and son, GREGORY TOWNSEND BEDELL. 557 to the Bedford Springs ; and the day before he left home, (July 6,) he administered the Communion and preached his last sermon. He reached Bedford more comfortably than he expected ; and, after his arrival there, seemed, for a little time, somewhat recruited. After a few days, however, his symptoms changed for the worse, and it was thought best that he should return to Philadelphia with as little delay as possible. He, accordingly, set out to return by way of Baltimore ; and, on his arrival there, was exceedingly debilitated, though he still expected to proceed almost immediately to Philadelphia. It, however, soon became apparent that he was inadequate to the effort, and that the time of his departure had nearly come. He lin- gered in the most serene and joyful triumph, until the 30th of August, when he entered into his rest, in the forty-first year of his age. His remains were taken to Philadelphia the next day, for interment ; and, on the Sabbath succeeding the Funeral, his venerable uncle. Bishop Moore of Virginia, being in Philadelphia, preached a Sermon to the bereaved church, which he concluded with some touching remarks in respect to their and his affliction. A Funeral Sermon was afterwards preached by the Bev. Dr. Tyng. Dr. Bedell's publications were chiefly small books, and several of them were prepared for the American Sunday School Union. Among these were The Lives of Moses and of St. Paul ; the Life of Legh Richmond ; the Story of Robert Benton ; three little books containing the History of Tahiti and Missionary Labours there ; and the Teacher's Assistant, originally published weekly in the Sunday School Journal. He also revised the translation from the French of a Story illustrative of the Providence of Grod, called The Basket of Flowers. Others of his works were for more mature readers, such as Ezekiel's Vision ; Waymarks ; Is it well ? — Three Questions addressed to Wives and Mothers ; and Onward. He also edited the Reli- gious Souvenir for three successive years, and Bickersteth's Treatise on the Lord's Supper, with Notes and an Introduction. He was, for several years the Editor of the religious newspaper, now known as the Episcopal Recorder. He also published, or republished, six volumes of the Evan- gelical Rambler, containing a series of Evangelical papers on the plan of the Spectator and the Rambler, of classic memory. A posthumous volume of his Sermons was published in 1835, in connection with a Memoir of his Life, by the Rev. Dr. Tyng. FROM THE RT. REV. CHARLES P. McILVAINE, D. D., BISHOP OB' IHE DIOCESE OP OHIO. CiHCiNifATi, February 18, 1851. Rev. and dear Sir: You have requested of me some account of my departed friend and brother, the late Gregory Townsend Bedell, D. D., — probably over- rating the opportunities I possessed of a very intimate acquaintance with him. There are clergymen of the Episcopal Church whose opportunities were better than mine, because they lived much nearer, and saw and heard him much more frequently. But I think I knew, as I know I was much attached to, Dr. Bedell, and placed a very high mark upon his character and usefulness. He was in the ministry some three or four years before me. It was not till he had collected the congregation and built the church (St. Andrew's, Philadelphia) of which he was the honoured and beloved pastor until his death, that I ever saw him. 558 EPISCOPALIAN. He was then several years in his ministry. But from that period, though our parishes were never within a hundred miles of each other, we often met in pri- vate and official intercourse, and a mutual attachment and confidence grew up between us, which, under an entire harmony in our views of Gospel truth, and of the duties, aims and means of the Gospel ministry, had never the slightest interruption till death took him away to a better life. You will not expect from me a regular, full-faced portrait of Dr. Bedell. I shall attempt nothing lilte that. To do his character justice would require much more detail than you desire. If I can avoid doing him injustice in what I do not say, as well as in what I do, I shall be more successful than I expect to be. A brief account of such main features as stand out prominently in my recollec- tions of him, is all that I shall attempt. Correctly to appreciate the diligence and effectiveness of Dr. Bedell, as a min- ister, you must know upon what a slender basis of physical strength and health his labours were supported. In constitution feeble, he was always, during my acquaintance with him, an invalid, attenuated in form, and with an appearance of suffering and debility from which you would expect only languor and inactivity. Nothing but the strictest nursing of all the little health he ever had, enabled him to be about his work as a minister of the word. And yet he sustained an amount of work, which would have seemed remarkable in any man, and in him was marvellous. It was full measure in the pulpit, and it went thence and did full duty in the lecture-room, carried on large Sunday-School and Bible Class arrangements, attended carefully to missionary and other such institutions, went from house to house in the parish, and all with a regularity and efficiency which any man of the strongest physical powers might have coveted. Dr. Bedell was remarkable for his talent in keeping up a large system of paro- chial operations, which embraced all the best methods of promoting Christian knowledge, a devotional spirit and benevolent effort among his people, and also in getting their means and energies into active employment in good works; he himself being present influentially at all points, the head every where, keeping all in just subordination, guiding all with the Shepherd's voice, full of work, and 3'et never seeming as if he were in the least encumbered or troubled with that which came upon him daily. His spirit was always on the alert. He enjoyed his labours. His cares were his delights. He served as a son, and in that res- pect a servant, of God. The yoke was easy because he loved the work and the Master. He was much indebted for this ability to get through so much with so little wear of mind, to his eminent habit of order and system. That habit appeared in all things, — the smallest and the greatest. All were timed and placed, and came and went in rank and file. And a system once adopted was kept. He lost little time in passing from one occupation to the next. The connection was set- tled. How much time is often wasted, and wear of mind incurred, in our transactions, in considering what we shall go at next ! You will readily infer that Dr. Bedell was eminently a practical man. That feature was visible in every sermon and scheme. " So run I not as uncertainly, so fight I, not as one that beateth the air," he might well have said. His object was distinct in his eyes, and he went to it directly, and by the wisest way. A remarkably sound judgment was united with a most benevolent and zealous heart, so that his ministry was constantly exhibiting results, and those of the most rewarding kind. Few ministers have seen more frequent, abundant and precious fruits of their labour. This leads me to a few words on the particular ca.st of his mind. He was a man of a very sound, discriminating, well-balanced and available mind, rather than of a very powerful one. His grasp of a subject was not particularly cora- preliensive or vigorous, but always sure, judicious and effective. Things pre- GREGOUY TOWNSEND BEDELL. 559 sented tliemsolves to his view in thuir bearings and applications, more than in their abstract natures. lie iniglit liave tliouglit more profoundly and less use- fully; he might have gone deeper and brouglit out for his people fewer treasures of spiritual, edifying truth. He was the miner that always found gold, and knew how to use it for the good of men. He had great skiil and power in com- municating — what he possessed in his own mind he could impart; what he saw he could make others see. He would place it in a light so distinct, with such precision of language and felicity of illustration, in such simplicity, and often so beautifully, as to make him not only intelligible to the meanest capacity, but exceedingly interesting and engaging to all. And this leads me to his pulpit work. You know he was a very popular preacher; that is, he drew a crowded congregation, and continued to do so, in the same church, from the earliest of my acquaintance with him till his ministry was ended. But there was nothing like aiming at popular effect, — no departure from simplicity, dignity, soberness or faithfulness; nothing to please men, except as they were pleased with what was well pleasing to God. Dr. Bedell, for the most part, preached written discourses, but frequently unwritten. The former he read, but with great freeness of manner, and with the ease and animation of extempore address. The latter were well digested in substance, happy in expression, pointed and often eloquent. The unwritten were by no means unprepared sermons. Seldom have ministers, preaching year after year to the •same people, commanded more of their undivided and eager attention. If you ask wherein was the chief force of Dr. Bedell's very successful ministry, I would answer, by beginning at his own experience as a Christian. The lines of his personal experience, of the ^race of God in the gift of a new heart, and the enjoyment of a justifying faith, were more than usually distinct. "What his Bible gave him to preach, the work of the Holy Ghost in his heart taught him how to preach, so as to reach the hearts of his people. He could most truly say, " We speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen." Built on this were the clearest doctrinal views of the Gospel system, and of the relative import- ance of Gospel truth, and Gospel ordinances. The way of salvation, with all its connected verities; the work of grace in the heart and its counterfeits, how well he knew them ! Where then was the power of his ministry.' There was fre- quentlj' a genuine eloquence in his preaching, often a very moving pathos as well in manner and word as in thought; always great impressiveness of speech and manner. His appearance in the pulpit was much in his favour. An expressive eye, a benevolent affectionate countenance, that looked what he felt and spoke, were not a little assisted by that a.spect of physical debility which indicated a mes- senger delivering his warnings from the brink of the grave, in near view of the eternal world. Add to these things, a voice which, though far from strong, was capable of great effect, and was managed with peculiar skill, exceeding clear and distinct in its utterances, and giving great expression to his thoughts, and then a delivery so grave and yet so animated; so quiet and yet so forcible; so self- possessed and yet so under the power of the great themes he preached on; a delivery which so perfectly fitted the style of his discourses, and so exactly exhibited himself. I have thus touched upon several important accessories to the special power of his preaching, but they were only accessories. They do not account for the power of his ministry in turning so many to righteousness. I can lead you nearer to the seat of his strength under God, by referring to the nreat simplicity, directness and distinctness of his method of setting forth Christ, and all the Gospel as centering in Christ, to the conscience and heart; the .scrip- ture unction with which he preached Christ; his constant subordination of all topics to that one head, Christ cruciiied and glorified; the propitiatory sacrifice and the mighty intercessor; our refuge, our light, our strength and our spiritual life; our justification by his Righteousness imputed^ our sanctification by his 560 EPISCOPALIAN. Spirit indwelling. He sought no praise higher than that of promoting a spiritual knowledge of Christ in the simplicity of the Bible. The vice of preaching the Gospel in such trappings of philosophic language and abstractions that its real sound and savour and countenance are all taken away, so that it is the Gospel only as a matter of Theology, and comes to the hearer as a thing of the schools, more than as the wisdom of God, he could not tolerate. His preaching did not lack variety, but its variety was found within, not by ever going beyond, the circle of always preaching his Master and his Saviour. In this course, as in every other, he was a man of firmness and courage, though never precipitate or impetuous; not despising the censures or the praise of men, but not moved by either; making up his mind upon a question of duty deliberately, and then quietly following out his conclusion, firmly but with as little offence as possible, and with the utmost kindness. Thus we come to his general character as a Christian man. Living daily under the monitory voice of physical ailments, which spoke of the uncertainty of his life, and the probable shortness of his time to do his work, he lived near to his Master and Lord, so that he might be the readier to go to Him when called. I need not say his piety was deep-seated and pervasive. Its more marked fea- tures were humility and love. It was meditative, but the reverse of ascetic. It lived within, it shone all around. His disposition and manners were highly social, and his social intercourse was highly engaging. To a naturally bland, kind and cheerful spirit, his lively piety imparted an expression of serene enjoy- ment, which, associated, as it always was, with the seriousness becoming his high vocation, and the culture and intelligence of the well educated gentleman, ren- dered him as acceptable and influential when'he met his people at their homes, as when they met him in his pulpit. I conclude this imperfect sketch by saying that Dr. Bedell was a decided and strongly attached Protestant Episcopalian, but, at the same time, a catholic Christian, realizing his union by the bond of a common Master and Saviour and Life with all the people of God, loving to realize it, and to manifest it, and taking an earnest pleasure in acting upon it, whenever the appropriate occasion was presented. Your affectionate friend And brother in Christ, CHARLES P. MoILVAINE. FREDERICK DALCHO, M. D. 1814—1836. FROM JOSEPH JOHNSON, M. D. CHARLEaxoN, S. C, December 10, 1857. Rev. and dear Sir : I cannot but think that you judge rightly in allowing to the Rev. Frederick Dalcho a place in your work ; for even if you had hesitated on the ground of his coming late into the ministry and then from another profession, the fact of his having given to the Protestant Episcopal Church of South Carolina so elaborate a volume illustrative of her history from early times, might, I should think, very reasonably be considered as establishing his claim to some commemorative notice. I knew him well for many years, and will cheerfully furnish you such facts in his history as are at my command, and such notices of his character as my memory may supply. FREDERICK DALCHO. 561 Freberick Dalcho was born in the city of London, in the year 1770, of Prussian parents. His father had been a distinguished officer under Frederick the Great, and, having been severely wounded, was permitted to retire to England for his health. At his death, this son was sent for by an uncle, who had, a few years before, migrated to Baltimore. Here he obtained a good classical education ; after which he devoted himself suc- cessfully to the study of Medicine, including a more extensive course of Botany than is common in Medical Schools. Having received his degree of Doctor of Medicine, he took a commis- sion in the medical department of the American army. With his division of the army he came to South Carolina, and was stationed at Fort Johnson, in Charleston Harbour. Here some difficulty arose between Dr. Dalcho and his brother officers, in consequence of which he resigned his place in the army, in 1799. He then removed to this city, where he formed a part- nership in the practice of Physic with Isaac Auld ; and he became a mem- ber of the Medical Society, and a Trustee of the Botanic Garden, estab- lished through their influence. About the year 1807, Dr. Dalcho united with Mr. A. S. Willington, as Editor of the Charleston Courier, a daily paper devoted to the vigorous advocacy of the Federal opinions of that day. About this time, he became, from his talents and deportment, a very influential member of the Masonic Association in this city, and subsequently their Grand Chaplain. At the request of the Grand Lodge of York Masons, he published an "Ahiman Heron," which was adopted as the Code for the government of all the Lodges under their jurisdiction. When about thirty-eight years of age, he was married to a lady whose maiden name was Mary E. Threadcraft, a grand-daughter of Dr. West of Goose Creek. They had no children, but she survived him several years. About the year 1811, Dr. Dalcho became more than usually engaged in; the study of theological subjects. With a view of prosecuting those studies,, and promoting the religious interests of others, he became lay reader in^ St. Paul's Parish, Colleton. On the 15th of February, 1814, he was ordained Deacon by Bishop Dehon, of South Carolina ; after which he was elected to the cure of the parish which he had previously served in a differ- ent capacity, and which had not had a settled minister since 1784. On the 12th of June, 1818, Dr. Dalcho was admitted to the Priesthoo We cannot forget his conspicuous exemplification of Christian excel- lence, and how conscientiously and devotedly he gave his influence and his exertions to the great work to which his whole heart and life were conse- crated. Occupying a prominent station in the Church of this Diocese, and familiarly known among us for many years, his unaffected goodness GEORGE BOYD. 575 won the love and confidence of all ; while his blameless life, and evident purity of purpose secured the universal respect and esteem of the commu- nity at large. The mild, dignified and conciliatory deportment, which so eminently characterized him ; his strict integrity and warm-hearted kind- ness ; and his urbanity of manners and Christian temper on all occasions ; will ever be affectionately remembered by his brethren of all classes ; and by none more sincerely than those who could not agree with him on all theological points." Dr. Boyd's preaching was not of a highly popular cast, but it was earnest, instructive, logical, and often very effective. His voice was decidedly musical, and yet had great power and compass. He was said by his contemporaries to have been one of the best declaimers in Columbia College. In the delivery of his message, he knew nothing of the fear of man, but spoke the truth boldly, but in love, whether men would hear or whether they would forbear. His chief desire evidently was that, by manifestation of the truth, he might commend himself to every man's con- science in the sight of God. His fine and manly form, bis high intellectual forehead, his open and beautiful countenance, his sweet and pleasant smile, are indelibly impressed upon my memory, and shall never fade nor fail, until (as I hope and trust) I shall see him again "in the resurrection of the just," raised and beauti- fied and glorified in his Saviour's image, for a blessed immortality. I remain. Rev. and dear Sir, With high respect and regard, Your faithful friend and servant, R. B. VAN KLEECK. TITUS STRONG, D. D. 1814—1855. FROM HENRT M. PARKER. ESQ. Boston, February 5, 1858. Dear Sir : I cheerfully comply with your request for some notices of the life of my honoured and lamented friend, the late Rev. Titus Strong, D. D. The principal facts and dates are taken from an autographic diary now in the possession of his widow, which also contains his pedigree. I was myself intimately acquainted with him during the later years of his life, and I had been still longer acquainted with some of his older friends among the Clergy. In preparing the following sketch, I have had the assistance of his estimable widow, and of his manuscript correspondence. Titus Strong, the eldest son of Titus and Mary (Burrill) Strong, was born in Brighton, Mass., January 26, 1787. He was a descendant of John Strong, who came with the Puritans to Dorchester in America, in 1630, in the same ship with Warham, Maverick, and others. In 1788, his parents removed from Brighton to Boston, and the next year, his father, 576 EPISCOPALIAN. while on a fishing party, was drowned in Boston Harbour, leaving three young children. The widow afterwards married John Stewart, of Wil- liamsburg, Mass. The subject of this sketch was taken to his grandfather's at Northamp- ton ; and in 1801, when he was fourteen years of age, he went to live with Mr. Butler, of that town, to learn the trade of a printer, and continued with him four years. In July, 1805, he left Northampton, and went to Boston, where he entered the office of John Tucker, Clerk of the Supreme Court of the United States ; but, in consequence of the failure of his health, shortly after, he went to Williamsburg, the residence of his mother, and taught a school there during the winter of 1805-06. He then returned to Mr. Tucker's office to resume his studies ; but was obliged very soon to discon- tinue them for the same reason as before. The year that followed he divi- ded between Williamsburg, Troy, Albany, and Chesterfield ; and at the last mentioned place, taught a school the next winter. At this time, he had serious thoughts of fitting himself for the Stage, on which his fine voice and elocution seemed to promise great success ; but better counsels prevailed, and in the spring of 1807, he commenced the study of Theology, under the direction of the Kev. Mr. Whitman, the Congregational minister of Goshen, a town near Chesterfield. In the mean time he was obliged to labour for his living. In June, 1807, having, as it would seem, for the time, relinquished his theological studies, he went to Dedham, and entered the office of Horatio Townsend, Esq., Clerk of the State Courts, who was an ardent Episcopa- lian. On the 4th of August following, he was married by the Kev. Joshua Bates to Hannah D wight, then of Dedham, but born in Medfield, April 2, 1787. They had eight children, only four of whom survived the period of childhood. In 1809, he edited the Norfolk Repository, a newspaper printed in Ded- ham. While a writer in Mr. Townsend's office, in consequence of reading some books in favour of Episcopacy, which fell in his way, his mind received a strong bias in that direction, and he began to direct his thoughts towards the ministry of the Episcopal Church. Accordingly, on the 1st of Octo- ber, 1812, he was admitted as a candidate for Holy Orders. On the 24th of March, 1814, he was ordained Deacon at Dedham, by the Rt. Rev. Bishop G-riswold ; and on the 7th of April, 1814, he removed to Greenfield, Mass., with a view to take charge of St. James' Church in that village. On the 26th of March, 1815, he was ordained Priest by Bishop Griswold, and at the same time was instituted Rector of St. James' Parish. He received the degree of Master of Arts from Williams College, in 1822, and that of Doctor of Divinity, from Trinity College, Hartford, in 1839. Dr. Strong retained the Rectorship of St. James' Church till the close of his life, and enjoyed, in a high degree, the respect and confidence not only of his own parish, but of the surrounding community. His last illness was a very protracted and distressing one, the disease being of a dropsical TITUS STRONG. 577 nature, with a strong tendency to develop itself in the region of the heart. This oompelled him to be kept in a standing position night and day, waking and sleeping ; and yet through all his extreme suffering, his genial spirit still shone out, and mingled gracefully with his Christian resignation and perfect trust and hope in his crucified Lord and Saviour. He died in June, 1855, leaving a widow, several sons, and one daughter. Dr. Strong was always a good elocutionist, and was particularly distin- guished for his admirable reading of the Service of the Church. While his preaching was uniformly sensible and edifying, he was, I think, specially felicitous in his Occasional Discourses. Isolated, as an Episcopal min- ister, as he was, through nearly his whole life, he was not much seen in cities and the more public places ; but whenever he appeared, was always met with a most grateful welcome. He was an influential member of the Diocesan Convention, and was often a delegate to the General Convention also. Dr. Strong's literary taste was for the best old English writers. He was himself an easy writer and a good logician. He maintained several con- troversies on Episcopacy, in a manner creditable alike to his head and his heart. By his kind-heartedness, however, and genial sympathetic expres- sion of it, he won more than by controversy. " Dr. Strong," says one who knew him long and well, " had great benevolence : his main object seemed to be to keep all men and women too at peace with each other. He seemed to feel, in a remarkable degree, his dependance on God for every thing. Daily and hourly, in his struggles, in poverty, sickness, and all trouble, it was beautiful to see how he referred all to God's goodness and wisdom, and trusted to them with all his strength ; feeling strongly that all would, work together for good, however dark worldly circumstances might be. He- was a very affectionate man, as well as a pious and truly charitable one. He was so genial and social, and had so much humour too, that in whatever company he was, no one wished to say much, but to listen to him." The Greenfield Parish was, until lately, an outpost of Episcopacy, and the town has been, historically, "a good one to emigrate from." The measure of the work done by that parish cannot be estimated even by its present strength. Its former members are scattered over the Continent ;. and among them are some of the brightest and most honoured names of the Episcopal Church. Among other parishes which, in a good degree, owe their existence to Dr. Strong's labours at Greenfield, may be men- tioned those at Northampton and Ashfield, and at Guilford, Vt. In fact, he did a great deal of scattered missionary work, not only in Massachusetts, but also in Vermont and New Hampshire. The following is a list of Dr. Strong's publications : — Tears of Colum>- bia : A Political Poem, 1812. A Sermon on the death of F. Barnard, Greenfield, 1815. The Common Eeader, 1817. A Candid Examination of the Episcopal Church, 1818. Reply to Strictures on the same, 1818. A Sermon on the Institution of the Eev. Mr. Huse, Claremont, N. H., 1819. Young Scholar's Manual, 1821. Scholar's Guide, 1822. A Ser- mon delivered on occasion of a Masonic Celebration, 1822. A Missionary Sermon, 1825. The Cypress Wreath, or Mourner's Friend, mostly selected Poems, 1828. The Deerfield Captive : A Tale for Children, 1831. A. Voi,. V. T3 578 EPISCOPALIAN. Sermon preached in St. James' Churcli, Greenfield, on occasion of the last Attendance of the Parish in that Church for Divine Service, 1846. The Ministers of Christ : A Sermon delivered in Christ Church, Springfield, Mass., when the Bishop of Massachusetts admitted the Rev. Henry W. Adams, M. A., the Rector of the Church, to the Holy Order of Priests, 1848. The Good Man : A Sermon preached in the Church of the Advent, Boston, on the Sunday after the Decease of its Rector, the Eev. William Croswell, D. D., 1851. The following were published in the Gospel Advocate, Boston : — A Ser- mon preached in St. Paul's Church, 1821. A Sermon on Family Prayer, 1821. A Sermon before the Convention, 1823. A Sermon on Reading the Scriptures, 1823. Five Essays on Objections to the Church, 1825. In the Norfolk Repository, (Dedham,) he published — " The Quaker," in eight Numbers, 1808. In the Franklin Herald, (Greenfield), — Four Essays on the Sabbath, 1816. Essays on Imitating Bad Examples, 1816. Very Respectfully yours, HENRY M. PARKER. FROM THE REV. AZARIAH CHANDLER, D. D., PASTOK OP THE FIKST OONOKEGATIONAI. OHUKCH IN GKEENFIELD, MASS. Gkeenpield, February 12, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir: It gives me pleasure to comply with your request, in bear- ing my testimony to the worth and usefulness of my friend and neighbour, the late Dr. Strong of this place. My acquaintance with him reaches back more than twenty years. As we were, for many years, both members of the Com- mittee superintending common schools, we were often brought together on these occasions; and I sometimes met him also in the social circle; and our intercourse was always friendly, as my recollections of him now are all exceedingly pleasant. Dr. Strong, in person, was large, well formed and dignified; in conversation grave but affable, and easily relaxing into playfulness. Always self-possessed, of ready utterance, well informed on the topics of the day, and abounding with interesting anecdotes, he rarely found himself in any company in which he was not the acknowledged leader in the conversation. I have, heard him preach a few times, though never on the Sabbath. His manner in the pulpit was solemn, his enunciation full and distinct, and his emphasis unusually strong; and these I should think were his most striking characteristics as a public speaker. His sermons, so far as I had an opportunity of hearing or knowing, were of a decidedly evangelical cast. Whether he was to be regarded as High or Low Church, I am quite incompetent to decide; for he never introduced the subject of Ecclesiasticism in any of our conversations, and I never questioned him in rela- tion to it. That he was warmly attached to his own Church (as who should not be.') was evident; but I remarked that he called it "our Church " as if there might be others also. He always treated me with kindness and cordiality; has asked me to take part with him in funeral services, when at private houses; and, on my last call upon him, a few days before his death, he greeted me in a manner truly fraternal, and asked me to pray with him; which I did with full reciprocity of the brotherly feelings which dictated the request. I consider his death as a loss not only to his own church, who were strongly attached to him, but to our community at large. I remain, dear Sir; in Gospel bonds, truly yours, A. CHANDLER. TITUS STRONG. 579 FROM THE REV. CALEB SPRAGTJE HENRY, D. D. New York, April 1, 1858. My dear Doctor Sprague : What can I contribute to your memorial of the late Dr. Strong ? There are a great many persons, 1 am sure, who could better give you what you want. It was for so short a time that I knew him, and so long ago, that it seems to me, taking my pen to jot down such reminiscences as may arise, I shall find scarcely any thing to say except that he was a good man^ — a very, very good man : for such I find to be the first and most vivid impression that comes up, when fancy brings his image before my mind. It is many years ago since I first went to live in the place where Dr. Strong passed a long and useful life, — the village of Greenfield, one of the many beauti- ful villages that are to be found all along the charming valley of the Connecticut River. I was then quite young, almost a minor in the eyes of the law, — not in my own, I dare say, but much older in some respects than I am now. I went to be minister to the Congregational Church there; and you remember, doubtless, that you officially assisted (as the French say) at my ordination. Dr. Strong had then been for some years pastor of the Episcopal congregation in the place. And it was, I take it, to the credit of us both, that, although our differences of ecclesiastical opinion were very great, and very decidedly held by each of us, it did not prevent the most agreeable and friendly relations existing between us — a thing the more to be observed as the town was not a large one. Though firmly attached to the doctrinal and ecclesiastical system of his own Church, there was about Dr. Strong nothing of bigotry, narrowness, or intoler- ance. He was, by natural temper, and by all the habits of his life, a frank and friendly man. As such I remember him in all my intercourse with him; and we were a good deal thrown together, as a matter of course, in the society of a small town, but more especially from our joint exercise of certain functions which the wise laws of New York forbid to the Clergy of this State, but which the people of Massachusetts universally impose on theirs. Dr. Strong, Mr. Bailey, the Unitarian minister, and myself the " orthodox " one, were the Town Com- mittee to visit and examine, at stated intervals, all the schools in the several districts. To the more distant places we had to ride; and it fell to my lot (whether as junior member of the Committee, or as bachelor member, having no wife or babies to provide for, I do not recollect) to furnish the conveyance; and one of the liveliest recollections I retain of those days, is of that Committee, on its visitorial progresses, stowed all three into the one seated gig — a more edify- ing spectacle of "brethren dwelling together in unity," than of the merciful- ness of " the merciful man :" not that three such men as Mr. Bailey and myself were dangerous to the springs, or distressing to the horse; but Dr. Strong was a man of two hundred and fifty pounds weight. Dr. Strong's countenance was as full of amiability as his person was large and portly. His expression was indeed one of great benignity and deferential cour- tesy; and his manner partook of the modesty and unpretending simplicity which were distinguishing qualities of his character. There was nothing morose and sour, nothing harsh or austere in his disposition or temper; on the contrary, if T remember rightly, he was lively and playful as well as cordial and genial, in his social nature. In fine, he was, as I have said, an eminently good man, as I understand good men a man without formality or pretension of any kind, but of remarkable singleness, purity, and integrity of character. This is the strongest impression I retain of him, derived from the recollections of the time we lived as neighbours for two or three years, confirmed by the memory of two or three days passed together a dozen years later. I remember, too, I regarded him as a man of 580 EPISCOPALIAN. sound sensBj and a judicious and edifying preacher, although I had not much opportunity to judge of him in the latter respect. It speaks for his possessing in a large degree the qualities of a good clergyman and a good man, that he retained his pastoral relations to a New England flock, during such a long course of years, and died universally respected and lamented, leaving his name a fra- grant memory to all who knew him. Very cordially and faithfully yours, C. S. HENRY. WALTER CRANSTON.* 1815—1822. Walter Cranston was descended from the noble Scottish Lord Crans- ton, and also from John and Samuel Cranston, both of whom were early Grovernors of Rhode Island. He was the only son of John Cranston, (whose mother, Frances Ayrault, was of Huguenot ancestry,) and of Com- fort, daughter of James Collin, of Newport. He was born at Newport on the 12th of December, 1789. Being left an orphan while he was yet very- young, he was brought up in the family of an aunt, who, by the blessing of God, was enabled to give an early religious direction to bis thoughts and feelings. As he was blessed, during his childhood and youth, with perfect health, and a most happy temperament, and withal had an intense relish for study, he was accustomed, after his usual hours of diligent application, to give himself to relaxation as vigorously as he had done to study ; and thus his natural vivacity made him quite the joy and life of the house. The greater part of his course preparatory to entering College was under the instruction of Mr. John Eraser, an excellent classical scholar, who kept a private school in Newport ; though he was under the more general super- vision of the Rev. Theodore Dehon, then Rector of the Episcopal Church at Newport, and afterwards Bishop of the Diocese of South Carolina. At the suggestion of Mr. Dehon, he passed the three months immediately pre- ceding his admission to College under the tuition of that eccentric man, but admirable scholar and teacher, the Rev. Thomas Thacher, of Dedham. After a course of most careful preparation, he entered Harvard College in 1806, where his vigorous mind and diligent application soon secured to him an enviable distinction as a scholar. While he was highly respectable in every department of learning, he was more especially distinguished for his attainments in Greek and Roman literature ; and in Hebrew he was said to have had but one superior, — and that was Samuel Harris, — a young man who had been drawn from the obscurity of a mechanical trade by the remarkable attainments in Oriental learning which he had made in his intervals of relaxation from labour, but whose Funeral Eulogium, Cranston, as his particular friend, was called to pronounce, while he was yet an under- graduate. Cranston was graduated with high honours in 1810. •Obituary notices. — Churchman's Magazine, 1822. — Records of Christ Churoh, Savannah.— MSS. from his sister, Mrs. Van Doui-sen, and from I. K. Tefft, Esq. "WALTER CRANSTON. 5g]^ Though his views had, for some time, been directed towards the minis- try, he did not at once enter on the study of Theology ; but as his health required some relaxation after the confinement and intense application incident to his collegiate course, he took a voyage to the Island of Trini- dad, to visit an uncle who resided there. Keturning in the spring of 1811, he took passage for Charleston, S. C, where he found his friend. Bishop Dehon, who urged him to remain in that part of the country, and there prosecute his immediate preparation for the ministry. He could not, how- ever, make up his mind to act in accordance with the Bishop's advice, having a strong desire to reside still longer at Cambridge, and avail him- self of the advantages furnished by his Alma Mater. He, accordingly, went thither, and resumed his studies, but in the autumn of that year, he was appointed Greek Tutor in the University. He accepted this office, and held it until 1815, — meanwhile directing his studies, under the advice of Dr. Dehon, with reference to the profession he had chosen, and during a part of the time officiating as lay reader, and after he received Orders, act- ing as a regular supply, in the church at Cambridge. He was ordained Deacon in Bristol, R. I., by the Et. Rev. Bishop Grriswold, on the 20th of January, 1815. Agreeably to the wishes of his early and beloved friend. Bishop Dehon, he came to the determination, in the early part of 1814, that he would settle in one of the Southern States ; and, accordingly, soon after he resigned his Tutorship, he directed his course to Charleston. Shortly after his arrival there, he was induced to visit Savannah ; and after preaching in Christ Church in that city, he received an invitation to take charge of it, which, shortly after, he accepted. He entered on the duties of his office in the autumn of 1815. The next year, (1816,) he visited his friends at the North, and on the 19th of October, was admitted to the order of Priests, at New Haven, by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Hobart. He then returned to his field of labour at Savannah, and resumed his duties with great alacrity and acceptance. The success of his ministrations was witnessed not only by the rapid increase of his congregation, but by the growing attention to religion in his parish, and the frequent accessions to the Communion of the church. During. the prevalence of the Yellow Fever in Savannah, at two different seasons, he remained at his post, while most of the other ministers left the city ; and he shrunk from no danger to which an unceasing ministration among the sick and dying of all classes and all denominations exposed him. These self-denying and self-consuming labours secured to him the gratitude and affection, as he had before enjoyed the respect and confidence, of the entire community. Dr. Kollock died at Savannah on the 29th of December, 1819 ; and it is stated in the Memoir of his life that Mr. Cranston was with him during his last hours, and conversed and prayed with him, and that the Doctor expressed to him the most joyful confidence that he was about to enter into rest. A few days after, one of the most desolating fires occurred in Savan- nah, considering the size of the place, that had ever been witnessed in this country. To both these events Mr. Cranston thus alludes : — 582 EPISCOPALIAN. " On the morning of Wednesday, January 3d, at two o'clock, we were roused from our beds by the cry of fire. I reached it soon after its com- mencement It was soon perceived that we were threatened with general destruction. No human efforts could arrest the progress of the flames, which soon rolled on with most awful power, — waves of flame rolling like the flowing ocean with a noise loud as the roaring of the sea in a storm. " January 7. I have finished my services of the day in my church, (thanks be to God,) which I expected never to have entered again. The church was on fire frequently, and onc,e was on the point of being aban- doned.' It now stands alone in the midst of a desert ! " Last Sunday I preached the Funeral Sermon for Dr. KoUock — to-day I preached the Funeral Sermon of Savannah." After this calamity, he refused to receive but half of his salary for the year. Though Mr. Cranston was enabled to prosecute his labours through sev- eral sickly seasons, and flattered himself that his constitution was proof against a Southern climate, it was evident, at the opening of the warm season of 1822, that he had become greatly debilitated, and that, unless some measures for invigorating his system were immediately taken, his recovery was hopeless. His friends urged him to avail himself of the bracing influ- ence of his native New England climate ; but he could not be persuaded to relinquish even temporarily his field of laTsour, until he had several times fainted during the services of the Church, and at length found himself too weak even to attempt them. When he saw that necessity was absolutely laid upon him, he sailed for the North, about the beginning of July, and arrived at Middletown, then the residence of his only surviving relatives, on the 10th of that month. But neither medical skill, nor the tender assi- duities of near friends, could avail to the lengthening out of his days. It became manifest both to himself and those around him that he was rapidly sinking into the arms of death ; but his mind rested with calmness and sta- bility on the promises of the Gospel, and he had the fullest confidence that it would be gain for him to die. He went to his rest, greatly lamented in every circle in which he had been known, on the 25th of July, just fifteen days after his arrival at Middletown, and in the thirty-third year of his PROM THE KEY. EDWARD ANDREWS. BiNQHAMTON, N. T., January 26, 1858. Dear Sir: You will be surprised at the little information I can give you of my classmate Cranston, especially as he was an Episcopal clergyman, like myself. But our class was unusually large, and the fact that he was several years older than myself, was the occasion of my being less intimate with him than I was with many other of my classmates. He ranked high (in a class which commenced with over seventy) and gradu- ated with an honourable appointment, which, however, he did not fulfil on account of ill health. He was very exemplary in his morals, free from all indel- icacy or profaneness, modest and gentleman-like, sincere and truthful, and alto- gether and always respectable. He was a hard student, an elegant classical scholar, and of such talents and accomplishments that, if he had lived, I doubt WALTER CRANSTON. 533 not that he would have attained the highest honours of his profession. He was said to have improved surprisingly after he graduated, and had a high reputation as a Tutor. After he had taken Orders, he came to Salem where I was then residing, to preach, and I had the pleasure of hearing him. He possessed many of the attributes of a popular preacher. He was earnest, yet subdued; evangelical, without cant; and graceful without foppery. His voice was at once soft and melodious, distinct and commanding; and his public services were well fitted, in respect to both matter and manner, to leave a distinct and solemn impression upon his hearers. I never heard him preach but at that time; and indeed I never saw him afterwards. He was rather below the middle size, with broad shoulders, an open, pale face, dignified and grave, never laughing loud and never seen where he ought not to be. In short his demeanour was worthy alike of the Gentleman, the Chris- tian, and the Clergyman. With great respect. Yours sincerely, EDWARD ANDREWS. FROM THE REV. SHEPARD K. KOLLOCK, D. D. Greenwich, N. J., April 27, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir: We know that impressions made in youth are most likely to be enduring; that the objects and scenes with which we were familiar then usually remain treasured in the memory when later events have grown indistinct or perhaps have entirely faded away. It is on this ground that I recall sponta- neously the Eev. Mr. Cranston; and almost every thing that I know of him comes to my mind without any effort at recollection. When I became acquainted with him, I was less than twenty-one years of age. He was at that time Rec- tor of the Episcopal Church at Savannah; and I had just been licensed to preach, and was supplying the pulpit of my brother. Dr. Henry Kollock, while he was making a tour in Europe. My occasional intercourse with Mr. Cranston was exceedingly pleasant, and as he was a highly educated man, and several years older than myself, it was to me in no small degree profitable. No one who knew him, and was capable of appreciating him, could have any doubt that he was a man of decided talents, of superior attainments, and a vigorous student, adding daily to his mental resources. lie was passionately devoted to his Alma Mater; and though he differed from her in his Theology, yet he maintained that for making good scholars, especially good classical scholars, she offered advantages greatly supe- rior to those of any other College in this country. I recollect in what strong terms of approbation he used to speak of the Harvard Professors, — of their mode of lecturing, hearing recitations, and exercising discipline,— of almost every thing, in short, connected with the economy of the College. T remember too how he used to receive the Boston Magazines, and lend them to us, and point out various articles in which he felt a special interest on account of their having been written by his friends or former instructers. I especially recollect how earnestly he recommended . MTchaelis' Commentaries on the Laws of Moses, then lately procured from Europe; how intelligently he conversed on the subject; and how he inspired me with a desire to become familiar with the civil polity of the Jews, and led me to make it a subject of special study. He gave an impulse, a direction, to my mind, in regard to the whole field of Biblical study, which otherwise it might have never received. He had a critical know- ledge of the best Latin and Greek authors, read the French language with ease. 584 EPISCOPALIAN. had made considerable proficiency in the German, and, considering his age, was one of the most accomplished scholars whom I have known. I occasionally heard him preach, and was always favourably impressed by both his matter and manner. His discourses, well elaborated though without any profusion of ornament, and delivered in a chaste and reverent manner, were well fitted to instruct and gratify an intelligent audience, such as he had; while their evangelical tone rendered them highly acceptable to the devout Christian. As a Pastor, he was devoted to his flock; and those of his people whom I knew and visited, always spoke of him in this respect in terms of the warmest appro- bation. His social qualities were of a high order, and his manners, though dig- nified, were always kind and conciliatory. Some years after I left Savannah, my acquaintance with Mr. Or?,nston was renewed by correspondence. He was consulted in regard to the selection for posthumous publication, of some of my brother's Discourses; and I have now in my possession his criticisms on various sermons, which evince excellent judg- ment, and great delicacy of taste. I am, my dear Sir, Yours most respectfully, S. K. KOLLOCK. ABIEL CARTER * 1815—1827. Abiel Caktbr, a son of Jacob and Sarah (Eastman) Carter, was bom at Concord, N. H., on the 2d of May, 1791. His father was a practical farmer, and was the owner of a large estate in Concord, part of which was afterwards purchased by the late Dr. Shattuck of Boston, and was subse- quently left as a legacy by him to the Protestant Episcopal Church of New Hampshire, as the foundation of a Diocesan ScVool for boys. The early education of the son, including a part of his preparation for College, was at the Academy at Hanover, N. H., — at that time under the care of Mr. Frederick Hall, afterwards Professor in Middlebury College ; though he completed his preparatory studies under the Rev. Dr. "Wood, then a successful instructer of youth. He had an uncontrollable passion for study, the consequence of which was that he held a high rank in scholarship, through the whole course of his education. After being engaged for a short time as Preceptor of an Academy at Concord, N. H., he entered Dartmouth College in 1809, and graduated in 1813. Shortly after he left College, he commenced the study of Law in the city of New York ; but his mind now became deeply exercised on the sub- ject of religion, and he soon formed the purpose of devoting himself to the ministry of the G-ospcl. He had been#dueated a Congregationalist ; but he was led to a diligent examination of the subject of Church government, tliG result of which was a decided conviction in favour of Episcopacy. He pursued his theological studies under Dr. Hobart, at that time Assistant Bishop of the Diocese of New York, and was admitted by him to Deacon's • MS. from hia son. Rev. A. B. Carter, D. D.— Dr. Smith's Fun. Serm. ABIEL CARTER. 585 Orders, on the 4th of May, 1815. He at once commenced the duties of the ministry, in the capacity of Assistant to the Kev. Dr. Lyell, Rector of Christ Church, New York. After remaining in this situation a year, he was transferred to the Diocese of Pennsylvania, where he was employed by the^ " Society for the advancement of Christianity in Pennsylvania," as their Agent and Missionary in the Western part of the State. In that capacity he rendered very important service, and preached with great suc- cess ; but being, in a few weeks, called to the Rectorship of Trinity Church, Pittsburg, he determined to settle down at once as a regular parish minis- ter. He was admitted to Priest's Orders in Philadelphia, by the venerable Bishop White, on the 15th of December, 1816. In 1817, he was married to Maria, the youngest daughter of the Rev. Abraham Beach, D. D., of New Brunswick, N. J. In May, 1818, he was elected Rector of St. Michael's Church, Trenton, ^- J- ; — a location which had the more atttactions for him on account of its proximity to the residence of his excelent father-in-law, whom he regarded with most affectionate veneration. During the period of his Rec- torship at Trenton, he was at once most assiduous and eminently successful in his labours — the church edifice was rebuilt, and the congregation greatly increased. During his residence here, he prepared and published " Ques- tions on the New Testament for the use of Bible Classes." He was parti- cularly fond of this department of parochial labour ; and from the clearness of his explanations, as well as his readiness of expression and illustration, this was always a popular feature in his ministrations. His labours were held in high esteem at Trenton, and on the relinquishment of his pastoral charge, the Wardens and Vestry of the church he had served, addressed a letter to him, expressive of their high appreciation of his character, and their deep regret at his removal. In 1822, he accepted a call to the Rectorship of Christ Church, Savan- nah, Ga., and it was in this, the closing scene of his labours, that his char- acter as an earnest ambassador for Christ was most fully developed, and his talents as an eloquent and cultivated preacher most admired and hon- oured. The summer of 1827 was signalized by the prevalence of the Yellow Fever, — that fearful malady by which Savannah has been so often and so dreadfully scourged. Though, by an express stipulation, when Mr. Carter took charge of the parish, he was to spend the summer months at the North, he was unwilling to leave his flock without a pastor during so trying a sea- son, and he therefore remained at his post the whole summer ; his excellent wife also choosing to stay with him, in preference to making her annual visit to her venerable father. They both escaped the ravages of the pesti- lence, until it was believed to have left the city ; but about the last week in October, Mrs. Carter caught the infection, and died after an illness of a few hours. She is supposed to have communicated the disease to her husband, who followed her to the same grave on the 1st of November, after a separation of but eighty-two hours. Prom the time that it became known that the malady had seized him, the most intense anxiety was manifested in regard to its issue, by all classes of people, and all religious denomina- tions, not excepting Jews and Roman Catholics. He was, from the very Vol. V. 74 » 58tJ EPISCOPALIAN. first, — even when his physician assured him that he was in no danger, — settled in the conviction that he should die, and he made all his arrangements accord- ingly ; and he then declined rapidly, till he sunk calmly and joyfully to rest, leaning on the bosom of a Presbyterian brother, who was among his most loved and intimate friends. His funeral brought together an immense con- course ; and all, without distinction of creed, colour, or station, lamented his death, as if it had been a personal bereavement. Several Sermons were preached in reference to his death, among which, one from the Rev. Hugh Smith, then of Augusta, Gra., was distinguished for melting pathos, and for an accurate delineation of Mr. Carter's character. Mr. Carter left three young children, one of whom (Abraham Beach) is now (1855) the minister of an Episcopal Church at Yonkers, N. Y. The following is a list of Mr. Carter's publications, so far as can now be ascertained : — A Sermon before the Convention of the Diocese of New Jersey, 1819. A Sermon in behalf of the General Theological Seminary of the Protestant Episcopal Church, 1820. A Sermon on Resigning the Charge of St. Michael's Church, Trenton, 1822. A Sermon on the Open- ing of the Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church, in the Diocese of Georgia, 1824. A Sermon preached in Christ Church, Savannah, before General Lafayette, 1825. A Sermon preached in Christ Church, Savan- nah, before the Masonic Lodge, 1826. FROM THE REV. JOSEPH B. FELT. BogiON, March 3, 1856. My dear Sir: I wish it were in my power to serve you much better than I can in rearing a fitting monument to ray friend and classmate, the Eev. Abiel Carter; but my recollections of him have grown less vivid with the lapse of years, and I scarcely find myself in possession of any thing now, that could materially sub- serve your purpose. The little that I do remember, however, I will most cheer- fully communicate. If my memory serves me, Mr. Carter, during his collegiate course, laboured under the disadvantage of being obliged to provide the means of meeting his own expenses, as he went along; and in order to this, he had to submit to the necessity, always hard for the student who wishes to advance rapidly in know- ledge, of being absent from College no small part of the time, and engaged in teaching a school. Though I doubt not that this necessity secured to him some advantages which he would not otherwise have enjoyed, in increasing his general knowledge and preparation for usefulness in life, it undoubtedly prevented him from taking so high a stand as a scholar as he would otherwise have done. But his standing was still highly respectable, and his talents were such as to give promise of extensive usefulness. His moral character, as far as I ever heard, was entirely irreproachable. My recollection of him is that he was of about the common stature, had sandy hair, dark eyes, ruddy complexion, a vigorous con- stitution, and a decided personal bearing. Subsequently to his leaving College, I had no opportunity to trace his career or to witness his developments; but I have been credibly informed that he more tlian fulfilled all the early promise which he gave of a life of honourable activity. As a minister of the Episcopal Church, I have always understood that he took a highly respectable rank, and was distinguished for his talents, attainments, piety, and usefulness. Very respectfully yours, J. B. FELT. ABIEL CARTER. 537 FROM THE RT. RET. STEPHEN ELLIOTT, D. D., BISHOP OF THE DIOCESE Of GEOSQIA. Savannah, January 31, 1857- Rev. and dear Sir; Your favour of the Hth of January reached me yesterday, upon my return from the interior of the State, and I hasten to give you such information as I have respecting the Rev. Mr. Carter. Mr. Carter occupied the Parish of Christ Church, while I was yet a boy, residing in South Carolina. He died in 1827,— the very year of my graduation at College, and therefore all I say is from tradition. My sister, Mrs. William Habersham, resided in Savannah during Mr. Carter's efficient connection with Christ Church, was a parishioner of his, and a devoted Christian woman. From her I first learned to form a very high estimate of his character. She always spoke of him with great affection as a truly pious man, a devoted pastor, and one altogether acceptable to his people. And since I have removed to Savannah, and mingled with his former parishioners, T have heard but one expression of love and admiration among those old enough to remember him. The enthusias- tic reception which was given to his son, upon his appearance here as a clergyman a few years ago, and the unanimous call which he received to the Church of which his father had been the Rector, were the best proofs of the esteem in which his parent had been held. Mr. Carter's greatest power appears to have been as a pastor; — one faithfully watching over his people, and gaining their affections by his assiduity and piety. He was an evangelical and excellent preacher, and altogether a good model of a Christian minister. In order to supply, in some measure, my own lack of personal knowledge con- cerning Mr. Carter, I will add an extract from a Sermon preached by the Eev. Dr. Hugh Smith, then of this Diocese, on the occasion of his death. Dr. Smith had every opportunity of forming a just estimate of his character. "As a Man he was naturally of an ingenuous, cheerful and social disposition. There was nothing of reserve or of suspicion in his nature. His manners were bland and conciliating, yet still dignified. Youth was not constrained to repress its smile in his presence, and yet the aged and the pious found enough of gravity to comport with his sacred character and office. He was the very life of the social circle; yet his cheerfulness never degenerated into levity, nor unfitted him for the timely introduction and impressive enforcement of grave and edifying topics. "As a Christian, he was consistent, zealous and practical. His religion was not the religion of moroseness or of gloom — it was the reasonable service of a well trained mind, and the warm offering of a devoted heart. It was ' without partiality and without hypocrisy; full of mercy and good fruits.' "As a Minister, he was most devoted. He remembered that ' unto this work he had been set apart.' ' He gave himself wholly to it,' and ' his profiting was manifest to all men.' His' heart was engaged in the duties of his office. They were not his task, but his delight. "As a Pastor he was almost beyond praise. If you would know his value in this respect, you must visit the desolate and mourning flock of which he was the good shepherd. You must ask the once guilty, whom he reclaimed; the once ignorant, whom he enlightened; the wavering whom he confirmed in their holy faith; the pious, whom he faithfully fed with the bread of life; and above all tlio mourners, with whom he wept, as they wept, and into whose hearts he poured the oil of consolation. Oh, be assured, it was not the loss of an ordinary pastoi-, that extorted such a loud burst of sorrow from a whole mourning people — it was not for an ordinary pastor that rivers of tears flowed down so many cheeks — 588 EPISCOPALIAN. But here I need not enlarge. His best eulogium is tho deep grief of his people. His record is in their hearts — he will live in their remembrance. "As a Minister of the Protestant Episcopal Church, he merits special atten- tion. The vow which he made, when he was admitted to minister at her altai-s, seems to have been engraven on his heart, and was ever religiously observed in his life. To her doctrine, discipline, and worship, he was strongly and affection- ately attached. He was one of those who believe the Church to have been Divine in her origin. He traced up the commission of her Ministry to the appointment of her Divine Founder and Head. So far did he carry his views on these points, tliat, on one occasion, well remembered by many of you, in this very pulpit, he seemed, even to his brethren in the ministry, almost to have advocated senti- ments indefensible and overstrained; while, however, the subsequent more guarded statement, and more full explanation of his meaning, proved that he had only strongly urged the most wholesome truth, which it is the prevailing ten- dency of the age to undervalue, — that the Church is the institution of Christ, not the mere creature of human expediency. Never, either in public or in private, did he shrink from the open, manly avowal of her peculiar and distinguishing doctrines. He delighted publicly to vindicate her aspersed fame, and to urge her powerful claims. The praise of reputed liberalitj' was not enough to bribe him to silence, when he felt it his duty to speak. Again and again have I heard the declaration made by his parishioners, that they were comparatively ignorant of the doctrines and excellences of their faith, until his clear and fearless state- ments fell upon their ear. Yet, with all this no bigotry was mingled. He was the defender of his own sentiments, not the unprovoked aggressor upon the reli- gious rights and privileges of others. His fidelity severed none of the tender charities of life. Hence his religious opponents could listen to his polemic dis- courses without either angry or wounded feelings. They admired his candour and respected his firmness, even if they were not convinced by his arguments. . . . He left the world at peace with the world, rejoicing in his own faith, but full of charity for others. His mourners were not his own people alone. Others who were not of his fold, bitterly bewailed his death. " Of the character of his preaching it will be unnecessary for me to give you a laboured description; for you have heard him yourselves. Briefly, however, let it be stated that his preaching was marked by force and impressiveness, rather than brilliancy and show. He was a ' faithful Ambassador of the Lord Jesus,' delivering with fidelity and plainness the message with which he was charged. He emphatically ' preached Christ Jesus and Him crucified;' and fully ' declared the whole counsel of God.' In his discourses, no frigid ethics took the place of Scripture truth; no idle speculations amused those whose souls were entrusted to his charge. He fed his flock with ' food convenient for them.' As far as I may be permitted to judge from my own recollections, and from the con- sentaneous remarks of his stated auditors, he excelled in the explanation of Scriptural truth, and in its practical enforcement upon the heart and conscience. He had a singular felicity in disengaging his subject from diflBculties, and in pre- senting it simply, plainly, clearly, to the mind, while, in its improvement, he applied it closely, I had almost said individually, to the respective cases of his people. The secret of his power, as a preacher, then, was his ' manifestation of the truth to every man's conscience.' He was indeed ' a workman that needed not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.' " Regretting that my own knowledge had not superseded the necessity of my borrowing from another to answer your inquiries, I am very respectfully yours, STEPHEN ELLIOTT. BKNJAMIN ALLEN. 539 BENJAMIN ALLEN * 1816—1829. Benjamin Allen, the eldest son of Benjamin Allen, was born in Hud- son, N. Y., on the 29th of September, 1789, — his parents having removed thither from Rhode Island among the first settlers of the place. His parents were not professors of religion, but his mother seems to have been a person of a serious and devout spirit, and to have exerted an important influence in the early formation of his Christian character. When he was about eleven years of age, he left school, and entered his father's store ; but towards the close of the next year, (1802,) his father discontinued mercan- tile business, and the son became a clerk in another commercial house in the same town. He continued to be thus employed for several years, and his services always gave satisfaction. But while thus engaged, his mind was taking a fixed religious direction, and he was at the same time develop- ing a taste for literature, especially for poetry, which seemed to indicate that he was not to spend his life in selling goods. At the age of about seventeen, we find him a vigorous member of a juvenile Debating Society, and about the same time contributing to the columns of "the Balance," a weekly newspaper, then published in Hudson by Harry Croswell, Esq., now (1857) the Eev, Dr. Croswell, of New Haven. Shortly after this, he left Hudson and went to Lansingburg, N. Y., where he spent some months in studying under the tuition of the Kev. Dr. Samuel Blatchford, the Presbyterian minister of that place. He then went to reside at Berlin, N. Y., and had charge of the store which was connected with the Rensselaer Glass Factory. He had now formed the purpose of becoming a minister of the Gospel, and his object in continuing in these secular employments was to obtain the means necessary to enable him to carry out his purpose. He remained at Berlin about one year, during which he found much time to devote to study, availing himself occa- sionally of the assistance of the clergyman at Sand Lake. At length his mind became so absorbed in his studies, that it was thought advisable that he should withdraw from the store altogether ; and he, accordingly, deter- mined to commence in earnest his preparation for the ministry, not doubt- ing that Providence would in some way furnish the means, though he did not know through what channel they were to come. He left Berlin and returned to Hudson in October, 1810 ; and in Decem- ber following entered the Hudson Academy, as a pupil, under Mr. Ashbel Strong, a very competent classical teacher. Here he remained about eight months, still, however, engaging, to some extent, in worldly business, in order to meet his necessary expenses. In the autumn of 1811, he adven- tured before the public with a volume of Poems, of one hundred and eighty pages, 12mo., under the signature of Osander. It was dedicated to his friend, the Rev. Dr. Blatchford, and was so favourably received that after a few months a second edition was called for. As one principal • Memoir by his brotlier, Kev. T. G. Allen. 590 EPISCOPALIAN. object of this publication was to assist him in obtaining an education, he spent considerable time in travelling with a view to dispose of his books, by exchanges with booksellers, and otherwise, in the principal cities. The next year, (1812,) he published another Poem of seventy-four pages, designed to have a bearing on the existing state of the country, entitled, " United we stand, divided we fall. By Juba." And about the same time, he engaged in bringing out a new edition of Doddridge's Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul. Of this work he was instrumental of circulating several thousand copies. For some years, a strong attachment had existed between Mr. Allen and a young lady in the vicinity of Hudson, — Harriet, a daughter of John Swift, an elder in the Presbyterian Church. Under the impression that his mind would be less diverted from his main object, if the engagement was to take effect without longer delay, he was married by the Rev. John Chester, of the Presbyterian Church, on the 6th of August, 1812. After hesitating some time as to a place of residence, he went, in Novem- ber following, to New York, and entered as a student in the Theological Seminary of the Associate Reformed Church, then under the care of Dr. Mason, and at the same time received under his own care a small number of scholars. In connection with the publication and sale of his books, he was led, about this time, into some speculations in real estate which proved not only unprofitable but embarrassing to him. In November, 1813, he published a third Poem, with the title, — " Colum- bia's Naval Triumphs," — making a volume of one hundred and thirty-two His manifold labours, both in the Seminary and out of it, now seriously affected his health, and he determined, by the advice of Dr. Mason, to sus- pend his studies, and take time to recruit. But, as he could neither con- sent nor afford to be idle, he entered into an engagement with the firm of Dodge & Sayre to obtain subscribers for Scott's Family Bible, which they were then publishing. In April, 1814, he published another Poem, entitled " Urania, or the true use of Poesy," — dedicated to the Rev. Dr. John B. Romeyn ; in August following, still another, entitled " The Phoenix, or the Battle of Valparaiso," — dedicated to Colonel Henry Rutgers ; and in September, yet another, entitled "The Death of Abdallah, an Eastern Tale, founded on the story of Abdallah and Sabat, in Buchanan's Christian Researches," — dedicated to Greorge Pitch, Esq. This was his last poetical work ; and from this period he became more immediately engaged in evangelical labours. Mr. Allen had hitherto been in communion with the Presbyterian Church ; but having his attention now directed to the points of difference between the Presbyterian and the Protestant Episcopal Churches, he was led to a decided preference for the latter. He had an interview about this time with the venerable Bishop Moore, of Virginia, which seems to have had some influence in settling his mind in favortr of Episcopacy ; and the great want of labourers, of that communion, in Virginia, which the Bishop pre- sented, seems to have fallen in with other considerations to induce him to make the change. Having now become a member of the Episcopal Church, BENJAMIN ALLEN. 59] he proceeded to Virginia, with his family, in November, 1814, and was immediately licensed by the Bishop as a lay reader. The field of labour to which he was directed was a fertile and delightful region, but not well supplied with the ministrations of the Gospel. He settled at Charlestown, Jefferson County, and was very soon actively and successfully engaged in his work. He gave special attention to the coloured people, preaching to them early and late, as he could find opportunity ; and he was permitted to witness many good fruits from these self-denying labours. Not long after Mr. Allen went to Virginia, he was subjected to no little annoyance from some persons to whom he was indebted at the North, and cer- tain communications on the subject, of a very offensive character, were made to the Bishop, which, however, he did not think proper to answer, though he apprized Mr. Allen of their contents, and urged him to cancel the debts, with as little delay as possible. He was enabled to do this, a short time afterwards, through the kindness of his Vestry, or some individuals of his Vestry, who lent him the necessary amount, on condition that he should return it whenever it should be convenient. About the close of the year 1815, he commenced publishing a weekly paper, called "the Layman's Magazine," designed more especially for the benefit of his own people, though it was by no means confined to them in its circulation. The work was continued for one year. During the time that he was engaged as lay reader, his labours were not only very extensive, but were attended with signal success. After being occupied with his new duties but eight months, lie had the charge of seven congregations, each of which he visited once a fortnight, and had five churches on his hands to build or repair. He officiated regularly on the Sabbath in Charlestown and Shepherdstown alternately, ten miles distant, and thence went forth through the whole surrounding country, proclaiming the glad tidings, as far as his strength would permit. By the blessing of Grod upon his labours, he was permitted to witness an extensive and power- ful revival of religion, chiefly in the County of Berkeley, of which there were supposed to be not less than one hundred subjects. Mr. Allen's ordination, owing to several untoward circumstances, was delayed much beyond his wishes and expectations, so that he officiated as a lay-reader about two years. He was admitted to the Order of Deacons in December, 1816, by the Et. Rev. Bishop Moore, at Richmond ; and to the Order of Priests in May, 1818, by the same Bishop, at Winchester. In 1820, Mr. Allen published an Abridgment of Burnet's History of the Reformation of the Church of England, in a volume of nearly three hundred pages. It was received with much favour, quickly passed to a second edition, and was reviewed in very flattering terms by the Port Folio, one of the ablest periodicals of that day. From the time that he received Deacon's Orders, Mr. Allen continued to labour in the same field with increasing popularity and success. His benevolent and active mind teemed with devices for carrying the Gospel among all classes ; and there was no labour or sacrifice to which he would not most cheerfully submit for the sake of doing any thing to promote the spiritual interests of his fellow creatures. In May, 1821, he attended the Convention in Baltimore, and before it closed its sessions, went to Philadel- 592 EPISCOPALIAK. phia, in consequence of having had his attention directed to St. Paul's Church in that city, — Dr. Pilmore being in a measure taken off from his labours by reason of the infirmities of age. The result of this visit was that, early in September following, he was chosen Rector of that Church. He accepted the place, and his Vestry, in taking leave of him, say that they " cannot part with Mr. Allen without certifying that his conduct in every respect has been perfectly exemplary. And they do not hesitate to declare also that no man in this section of Virginia has done more for the Church, or perhaps as much, as Mr. Allen." He removed his family to Philadelphia almost immediately, and commenced his ministrations there on the 2Sth of October. The field which he now entered required a large amount of labour, as his predecessor, Dr. Pilmore, had, for several years, been unable fully to discharge the duties of a pastor, in consequence of which the spiritual concerns of the church were in a somewhat disorganized state. Mr. Allen addressed himself to his work with great vigour and success, — first of all, making himself thoroughly acquainted with the character and wants of his people, and then instituting the requisite instrumentalities for bringing the Grospel in contact with persons of different characters and ages. Besides paying particular attention to Sunday Schools and Bible Classes, and fre- quently and faithfully catechising the children, he interested himself espe- cially, as he had done in Virginia, in behalf of the coloured people, never losing an opportunity of conveying to them religious counsel and instruction. About the close of the year 1822, he published a duodecimo volume of Sermons under the following title : — " Jesus Christ and Him Crucified : being a view of the Trinity, the Divinity of Christ, the Atonement, and the Character and Influence of the Holy Spirit ; together with references to the great body of texts used by Magee, Simpson, and Jones." Shortly after this, he published another volume entitled " Living Manners, or the True Secret of Happiness, a Tale," — designed to present the contrast between mere formalism and living piety, which was very favourably received, and was adopted as one of the publications of the American Sun- day School Union. In 1823, he published a second edition of his Abridg- ment of Burnet's History of the Eeformation, and about the same time issued a third edition, in a smaller form, with a view to its being intro- duced into schools. The same year he commenced the publication in numbers of another work entitled " History of the Church of Christ," which, when completed, formed two volumes, octavo, of upwards of two hundred and eighty pages each. In the autumn of 1825, he published a small work entitled "The Parent's Counsellor, or the Danger of J^lorosc- ness: A Narrative of the Newton Family;" and about the same time, a Brief Narrative of the Life of Dr. Pilmore, his predecessor in St. Paul's Church. In the summer of 1823, Mr. Allen's health began perceptibly to fail, and in November or December following he had an attack of the small-pox, which gave rise to a report that he was dead, but which really left him, after a short time, in a state of improved health. In the summer of 1824, he visited his former parish in Virginia, and had a most interesting meet- BENJAMIN ALLEN. 593 ing with his old and cherished friends, though he seems to have made any thing else of it than a season of relaxation from labour. In the summer of 1825, his health still being far from perfect, he journeyed to the North as far as Niagara Falls, and Canada ; and though he seems to have been greatly interested in much that came under his observation, it was evident that his .mind was chiefly intent upon spiritual subjects, and that he esti- mated the comparative importance of every thing from its bearing on the interests of Christ's Kingdom. In 1827, Bishop Chase of Ohio visited Philadelphia, in behalf of Ken- yon College, and was for several weeks Mr. Allen's guest. Mr. A. enlisted with great zeal in his enterprise, and had, at one time, some idea of removing to the West, partly that he might be able to become a more efficient coadjutor in it. The Bishop's high sense of obligation to him appears in several letters which he addressed to him about that time. In the autumn of 1827, Mr. Allen visited Washington and Georgetown, D. C., for the purpose of attending the Anniversary of the "Society for the Education of pious young men for the ministry of the Protestant Epis- copal Church." In December following, he opened a Book establishment, which he denominated the Prayer Book or Church Missionary House ; one principal object of which was to reduce the price of the Prayer Book, so that it might be within the reach of all the members of the Church. In this establishment were sold, among other publications, those of the Ameri- can Sunday School Union, and the American Tract Society. Mr. A. added to the collection several new works, either written or abridged by himself. He wrote a Narrative of the Labours, Sufferings and Final Triumph, of the Rev. William Eldred, late a Missionary of the Society for the advance- ment of Christianity in Pennsylvania ; also a small work entitled "Gene- ral Stevens, or the Fancy Ball, being the third part of Living Manners." He abridged the work of the Eev. George Croly on the Apocalypse ; and the work of the Rev. Edward Irving on the Prophecies of Daniel and the. Apocalypse, which relate to these latter times. Mr. Allen's health was gradually sinking under his oppressive and man- ifold engagements, until at length it became apparent that he must desist from his labours, at least temporarily, or sacrifice his life. Accordingly,, in February, 1828, he gave notice to the Wardens and Vestry of hia Church of his intention to cross the ocean, so as to be present at the Religious Anniversaries to be held in London, the ensuing May. The proposal having been cordially assented to, and he having been authorized to represent several of our prominent Benevolent Institutions, at the Anni- versaries of the sister Institutions abroad, he proceeded to make his prepa- ration for the voyage, and on the 20th of March bade an affectionate, amdi as it proved a last, farewell to his friends, and embarked on board the ship Montezuma fox Liverpool. The Rev. J. H. Kennedy, of the Spruce Street (Presbyterian) Church in Philadelphia, said to him, on taking his leave, — " Perhaps when the sea gives up its dead, you may be found among the number." His reply was, — "Well, that will be as short a passage to Heaven as any." Mr. Allen landed at Liverpool on the 12th of April, and was immedi- ately thrown among some of the most benevolent and excellent people of Vol V. 75 594 EPISCOPALIAN. the town. After remaining there four or five days, he proceeded leisurely, by way of Manchester and Birmingham, to London, where he arrived on the eleventh day after he reached Jjiverpool. Here he immediately became known to many of the leading clergymen as well as prominent Christian laymen of the city ; and when the Anniversaries commenced, his services on the platform were almost constantly put in requisition. His zeal to promote the cause of his Master, in connection with the excitement neces- sarily attendant on the novelty of the surrounding scene, made him forget that he was an invalid, and prompted to efforts which the state of his health would by no means justify. After remaining some weeks in London, he consented to visit Yorkshire and some other parts of England, in behalf of the British and Foreign Bible Society. While performing this service, the effect of overtasking his faculties became manifest, not only in a general prostration of his system, but in a considerable degree of mental aberra- tion. This occurred at Kendal, in the early part of July ; and as the case was immediately felt to be an alarming one, he was taken by one of his friends to Liverpool, with a view to his returning home immediately, if it should be thought prudent for him to attempt the voyage. It was, how- ever, subsequently determined, with his own consent, (for he was quite aware of his situation,) that he should remain for a while in England under medical treatment ; and, accordingly, he was placed under the care of an eminent physician, who very closely watched his symptoms, and bestowed upon him every attention. After somewhat more than four months, — no favourable change in his symptoms having occurred, — it was thought advisable that he should return to his family without longer delay, and the arrangements were forthwith made by his friends in Liverpool for rendering the voyage as comfortable to him as possible. He accordingly sailed in the Brig Edward for Philadelphia on the 23d of November, the Captain having been made fully acquainted with his situation, and received full instructions as to the manner in which he should be treated. In the early part of the passage, he committed many of his thoughts to writing, espe- cially on the margin of the books which he read ; from which it would appear that his mind was constantly exercised on religious themes, and was disposed to take a gloomy view of his own spiritual state. It quickly became apparent that he was growing worse in both mind and body ; and his sufferings were not a little aggravated by a boisterous and perilous passage. His disease, which was pulmonary, assumed a mild form in con- nection with the chest, being partly spent upon the brain. He was con- fined to his bed about fifteen days. When the Captain saw that he had evidently but a short time to live, he felt constrained to apprize him of the fact ; and he immediately expressed a wish that prayers should be offered in his behalf: when informed that there was no one present who could officiate, he requested that the fifteenth chapter of the First Epistle to the Corin- thians might be read in his hearing, and the request was immediately com- plied with. The night previous to his death, the Bible was read to him by his request, almost constantly ; and he was most of the time perfectly rational. About four o'clock in the morning, the Captain asked if he was willing to depart from this world ; and his answer was " I am ; " and after jpausing a few moments, he added, — "I am ready to go." These were hi^s BENJAMIN ALLEN. 595 last intelligible words. He gradually sunk, as if falling into a sweet sleep, till it was perceived that the spirit had fled. He died on the 13th of Jan- uary, 1829, at six o'clock, P. M., on the fiftieth day from Liverpool. He was buried in the ocean the next day, af meridian. The tidings of his death were received at Philadelphia about the close of February, (the ves- sel having had the unusually long passage of ninety-six days,) and not only his own immediate relatives and congregation, but the Christian community at large, felt it to be a sore bereavement. An impressive Funeral Dis- course was addressed to the bereaved Church, on the 22d of March, which was published. In addition to the published works of Mr. Allen already mentioned, there were four Funeral Sermons, — all preached and published in 1820 — namely, a Sermon preached at Charlestown, Va., at the Interment of Lieut. John Packett, of the United States' Navy ; two at the Interments of Capt. Thomas Hammond and two of his children ; and one at the Inter- ment of a son of Obed Waite, Esq., of Winchester. He published also an Address delivered before a Lodge of Free Masons in Chester County, in 1827. Mr. Allen was the father of six children, all of whom, with their mother, survived him. FROM THE RT. REV. B. B. SMITH, D D. Kaloeama, near Louisville, Ky., ) December 27, 1856. ) Rev. and dear Sir: For some time I have been familiar with, and deeply inte- rested in, the great work you have in hand; and though involved in a complica- tion of difficulties, and more especially of delicacies, I cannot but think it will reflect honour upon the abounding grace of God, and aid, materially, in the next great step to be taken by leading theological minds, — progress towards Christian Union. When I succeeded the Rev. Benjamin Allen in the charge of the Episcopal Church in Charlestown, Jefferson County, Va., I had not yet seen him; but never were the forbearance and magnanimity of a young clergyman subjected to a severer test, encountering, as I did, almost everywhere such extravagant laudations of my predecessor as filled me with the most painful misgivings that I could never tread in footsteps marked by such gigantic strides, or even approximate a standard of ministerial zeal and devotion so unusually exalted. No dwelling so humble, no hamlet so remote, but what this man of God had often preceded me there. Indeed the image under which he was habitually present to my mind was that, not then sketched in his Memoir, of an untiring, rapid, reckless rider, upon his old gray horse, with saddle-bags filled to reple- tion with Prayer Books, Sunday School Volumes, and Religious Tracts, scat- tering them broad-cast, as he flew, from place to place, across the country, having the Everlasting Gospel to preach, and, as if driven to impatience, bor- dering upon phrenzy, in the urgency of his desire fully to discharge his mission, lest the blood of souls should be found upon the skirts of his garments. In person he was tall and slight, j'et muscular and nianl3', with light com- plexion and a very pleasing expression of countenance. At most times, his manner was quiet, calm and dignified, marked, however, by a nobility and occa- sional restlessness which betrayed the keen edge of his eager spirit. At work, whether with his pen, in the pulpit, on the side-walk, or in the country, he was 596 EPISCOPALIAN. all impatient energy, and made more of every day than most persons do of a whole week. I should not say that his mind was remarkable either for comprehensive grasp or keen penetration; but it was active, versatile, and retentive to an eminent degree. Whatever he held he used handily, and applied with singular adroit- ness to his purposes. And these were always so good and generous, and so con- tinually related to the spiritual welfare of his fellow creatures, that his Sunday Schools, his Lectures, his Bible Classes, his Sunday Services, burned with a sort of intense glow which was wonderfully contagious. No apathy, ho indifference, no stagnation, where he came. And better and more wonderful than all, the intense fervour which he enkindled was by no means transient; for his appeals were never made to the lower and more unworthy motives of conduct. A deep sense of the worth of the soul, the constraining love of Christ, the privilege of living, doing, giving, suffering and dying for Christ and his Church he habitually felt, and this gave the hue to his whole course of action. If I ever heard Mr. Allen preach, I have now no distinct remembrance of it. As a visiting cjorgyman in his parish, I was most likely to be called upon to be the preacher; and, as I have said, I followed him in Charlestown, and he had embarked for England before I removed to Philadelphia, to reside there. From the testimony of many others, every way competent to judge, and predisposed to judge favourably, T have received an impression that his sermons did not owe either their attraction or their power to any remarkable exhibition of mental vigour or literary elegance. Indeed, it is not unlikely that the fastid- iousness of my own taste, and the unduly high estimate which I was at that time disposed to place on productions of genius, led me to underrate somewhat his intellectual efforts. But even now, at this distance of time, since I have so much better learned what is meant by that " foolishness of preaching " which God seems most to delight in blessing, I cannot but ascribe the deep impression which his preaching everywhere produced, instrumentally, in a great degree, to that manifest sincerity, that deep and ever moving current of true Christian feeling, which exalts, sanctifies, and renders eflBcient every ministry into which they strongly enter. I am very sincerely yours, B. B. SMITH. JAMES MONTGOMERY, D. D * 1816—1834. James Montgomery was born in Philadelphia, November 25, 1787. In the early part of the eighteenth century, his ancestor, William Mont- gomerie, emigrated from Ayrshire, Scotland, (where the family had lived for many generations, and where the principal branch of it still reside,) and settled in East Jersey. His father, John Montgomery, a native of Mon- mouth County, N. J., and a merchant of Philadelphia, died in that city in 1794, from a disease which was contracted by his exposure as a soldier during the "War of the Kevolution. His mother, whose maiden name was Mary Crathorne, and who was of a West Indian family, survived her hus- band more than half a century, dying in 1848, at the age of eighty-three. •MS. from his son. Rev. William White Montgomery.— The MisBionary, 1834. JAMES MONTGOMERY. 597 The subject of this notice was the second of a family of three boys. A part of his early education was obtained at the well known Seminary of Dr. Hall in Harford County, Md., and a part at the Grammar School in Princeton, N. J. In 1805, he was graduated at Princeton College. On his return homo, he entered the office of Judge Hopkinson of Philadelphia, and was in due time admitted to the Bar. After practising as a lawyer for several years, he became a candidate for Holy Orders in the Episcopal Church, and was ordained Deacon, by Bishop White, in Philadelphia, on the 25th of August, 1816. Having been elected Kector of St. Michael's Church, Trenton, N. J., he was there ordained Priest by Bishop Croes, October 7, 1817. In April, 1818, he removed to New York, having been elected Bector of Grace Church in that city. In 1820, he resigned this Kector- ship, and returned to his native State ; residing near Philadelphia, and offici- ating in some of the vacant churches in that vicinity, until the formation of the new Parish of St. Stephen's, to the Rectorship of which he was elected. The church was consecrated on the 27th of February, 1823. the Consecration Sermon being preached by his early and steadfast friend, Bishop Hobart. He was distinguished throughout his whole course for his earnest devotion to the interests of the Protestant Episcopal Church, and in turn was honoured by several of the more important offices within her gift. He was a member of the Standing Committee of the Diocese of Pennsylvania, which he frequently represented in the General Convention. He was also a member of the Executive Committee of the Board of Direc- tors of the Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society, and a Trustee of the General Theological Seminary. He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Geneva College, in 1827. While he was actively engaged in the discharge of his various public and private duties, a pulmonary disease began to develope itself, which, after a comparatively brief course, terminated his life. For several weeks he had suffered from a severe cold and oppression of the chest, which gave much anxiety to his family and friends, and to which he was repeatedly urged to pay proper attention. But his duties were pressing, and he could not be prevailed on to intermit any of them even temporarily. He had then lately commenced a week-day course of lectures on the Epistle to the Romans ; and this formed an addition to his labours, for which he was ill prepared. On the last Sunday of the year, (1833,) he preached with a degree of earnestness and solemnity that could not fail to be particularly noticed by his hearers. The next day he was occupied in pastoral duty, and the day following that, was attacked with hemorrhage of the lungs. He was aware at once that his case was an alarming one, but he expressed the utmost resignation to the Divine will, and a desire to illustrate by his own exam- ple the sustaining power of those truths which he had preached to others. Afterwards he became more hopeful of his recovery, and seemed impressed with the belief that the work which God had designed for him was not yet accomplished. It was not long, however, before a more decisive change left him with no doubt that his course was nearly run. He lingered tiJI the 17th of March, 1834, and then passed away so gently that it was scarcely possible to note distinctly the moment of his departure. 598 EPISCOPALIAN. Dr. Montgomery's only publications are the following : — A Sermon on I. Cor. xiv, 40, 1826. A Sermon on the Missionary Enterprise, (pub- lished in the American Pulpit,) 1831. A Sermon on the Service of the Church, (published in the Protestant Episcopal Pulpit,) 1834. Two Ser- mons on the Close of the Year, and on The Spiritual Crucifixion and the Spiritual Life, — (the last Sermons that he preached,) 1834. Dr. Montgomery was twice married. His first wife, Eliza Dennis Teackle, daughter of John Teackle, Esq., of the Eastern Shore of Virginia, died in 1823, having three children, two of whom are still (1857) living. One of them, John Teackle, is a practising lawyer in Philadelphia. His second wife, who still survives, was Mary Harrison, daughter of Thomas H. White, Esq., of Philadelphia, and granddaughter of the venerable Bishop White. Of four children by this marriage, two are still living. One of them, William White, was graduated at the University of Pennsylvania, has followed his father into the ministry of the Episcopal Church, and is at present a missionary in the Diocese of Western New York. FROM THE ET. REV. G. W. DOANE, D. D., LL. D. Riverside, 7 December, 1857. Dear Sir: I knew Dr. Montgomery well — indeed I think I may safely say that no one knew him better. I was in intimate relations with him for several years previous to his death, and had the privilege of ministering to him in his last hours. It costs me little effort, therefore, to comply with your request. Dr. Montgomery's mind was not of that precocious character that startles for a season, only to disappoint the expectation it has awakened. It was rather sure and steady than rapid in its acquirements. His scholarship was ripe and good. His acquaintance with books was large, and of a character the most pro- fitable. He had an unusual share of that practical wisdom which comes from observation and intercourse with men, not without deep reflection. He united, in a rare degree, the qualities of action and of meditation. There was no man more deeply contemplative. In all matters of business there were few men more truly effective. His mind was still maturing, and his usefulness still increasing, and his reputation still advancing, when it pleased the Lord to take him awa3^ He grew up in the love, and confidence, and reverence of the companions of his early days; and a most useful and successful ministry, increasing to the last in usefulness, and in that best success, the winning of immortal souls, exercised for many years in the place of his birth, and among those who had always known him, — is most conclusive evidence to the purity, the consistency, and the stability of his character. And such indeed were its traits. In the discharge of all the duties and relations of life he was uniformly excellent. As a citizen, a neighbour, and above all as a friend, he never was surpassed. He was always kind, affable and cheerful. He was accessible to all. With those whom he loved he indulged in an habitual playfulness, which well bespoke the pleasing quiet of a heart at peace with all the world. His counsel, his assistance, and his purse were always at the service of all who needed them. And in those rarer and more difficult ofBces of friendship, in which prudence, gentleness, constancy, and Christian love are called in aid of mental or moral infirmity or suffering, to counsel, to console, to sustain or to animate, there was a delicacy, a candour, a discrimination, a generosity, and an engagedness of spirit in him, which gave him acceptance and influence to a wonderful extent; and almost identifying him- self with their particular grief, made him welcome beyond most other men to such as are " in heaviness through manifold temptations." There was probably none JAMES MONTGOMERY. 599 of his acquaintance, who being "in trouble, sorrow, sickness, or any other adversity," would not have resorted to Dr. Montgomery; and none who did, that if they found not succour and rehef, did not find comfort and encouragement, in the assurance of the tenderest sympathy. But it is in his higher and more sacred character as a Christian, a Churchman, and a Christian minister, that I thinli of Dr. Montgomery with the deepest interest. An ardent love of souls was the strong impulse of his life. Feeling in his own heart the power and comfort of religion, it was his desire and effort to bring others to the same experience. He was well convinced of the ruin, and fall, and guilt of our nature. lie knew and felt that there was no other way of rescue and recovery than the cleansing and atoning blood of Jesus. Justifica- tion by faith and sanctiftoation through the Spirit were to his mind and heart the great features of the Gospel. Of the plan of salvation by Jesus Christ, ho consi- dered the Cliui-ch, as, by the Lord's appointment, an integral part. His favourite scheme in which he desired to engage all who love the Lord' Jesus, was the exhibition, in their original union, of what beloved to call "the sacred triad of principles" — the truth of the Gospel, in the Church of the Gospel, producing the fruits of the Gospel. Kind and amiable as he was, there was, on some occa- sions, a zeal and impetuosity of spirit which betrayed him into error. It was the ardour of honest conviction, the glowing language of sincerity and truth. But it was apt to carry him too far. It sometimes took the appearance of vio- lence and denunciation. Yet it never made him an enemy. Though unquestion- ably an infirmity, it was felt to belong to a noble nature. And they who were compelled to differ from him most widely, still honoured and loved him. At the time when the Diocese of Pennsylvania was rent in sunder by contending inter- ests, though his trumpet never gave an uncertain sound, nor lingered in the rear of what he deemed his duty, he maintained the confidence and respect of all. Without bating a jot of his integrity, he was able to take and keep the often questionable, and always diflicult, position — of mutual friend to brethren that were arrayed in open opposition; and was thus greatly serviceable and greatly to be honoured in that work on which the Saviour has pronounced a blessing, — the office of a peace-maker. In his parochial relations. Dr. Montgomery was eminently useful, and emi- nently worthy of that "double honour" which an Apostle has awarded to them who labour in the word and doctrine. It was the remark of one who belonged to his first parish, that he "wore himself out;" and how literally true it was, they well knew among whom his last ministrations were performed. He spared neither time nor toil. He preached with an earnestness, and sometimes a vehemence, which the strongest constitution could scarcely bear. He felt his responsibility as the minister of a congregation second to none in wealth, intelli- gence, and influence. He felt their danger as standing thus on the high places of society, and exposed to all the snares of luxury and fashion. And his heart's desire and prayer to God for them was that they might be saved. And as he went in and out among them, preaching the truth, and administering the conso- lations, of the Gospel, from house to house, they could not but feel how the spirit of his Master animated all his exertions; and how worthy of their imita- tion in meekness and patience, in guilelessness and honesty, in purity and charity, the example which he set them. I will close this communication with a brief account of his dying exercises. I had seen him frequently during his illness, but on Sunday morning, the 16th of March, I was sent for to attend him. I hastened to his bedside, and witnessed there a scene in which the angels must have delighted, and which beggars all that I have seen on earth. He was lying in his bed with a Prayer Book in his hand. He was evidently marked for the grave, but Iiis countenance beamed with peace and joy. " I am glad to see you," I said, "so calm and tranquil." " Oh, 600 EPISCOPALIAN. my dear friend," he replied, " ray dear friend, I am perfectly happy." And never did I sec a man who seemed so fully to realize what he described. His wife, his mother, his children, and a female relative were present. " My beloved wife," he said, " has gone through the Service for the Visitation of the Sick, and there are two prayers there that express exactly what I want. She is now read- ing me some Hymns, and I wish you to be with us, and when she is done, you will pray with us." At his request, with a voice that at once expressed how great the struggle was between her natural feeling and her desire to do his plea- sure, she proceeded. It was the thirty-second Hymn in our Collection. At the end of every line he made some comments — " Welcome sweet day of rest" — " Yes, welcome, welcome, welcome, blessed day, day of peace, and rest, and holy- joy!" "That saw the Lord arise" — "that saw my precious Saviour physi- cally arise from the tomb, rise for our justification, rise to be the light and glory of the world." " Welcome to this reviving breast" — " Yes, reviving with new hopes of glory and of bliss." " ^nd these rejoicing eyes" — " for, though the light of day is not let in," (the shutters of his room were partially closed,) " they do enjoy the light of life — the only true and lasting light — which they who have not, walk in darkness, and know not whither they go. Bring them. Blessed Jesus, bring them all, who know thee not, into tlie splendid circle of thy glory!" In this way he went on with a fervour and a pathos which I should in vain attempt to express. The thirty-third Hymn ("Another six days' work is done") was then read and amplified in the same delightful manner. He then took the book and read it distinctly through. Then, with a low clear voice, he sang it; and, having finished, asked me to find him the Doxology. " Now," said he, " stand up and join with me." This done, he began to pro- nounce the blessing; when, as if correcting himself, he said, — " Do you do that," responding aloud. Amen, Amen. He then requested the window shutters to be thrown open. " Now," said he, addressing himself to me, " take notice and bear witness, fully and plainly, but not ostentatiously, I die, I die in the faith OP THE Lord Jesus Chbist. I put my whole trust for pardon and acceptance in the merits of his death. There are some who will say, ' Ah, Montgomery is converted — his sickness has done this.' Tell them, no, I was converted long before I was permitted to minister at his altar. And though I have erred and sinned, had my delinquencies and backslidings. He has graciously restored me, and set me on the Rock. To that Rock of Ages, the Lord Jesus Christ, must all come who would be saved." He paused. "Now," said he, "I wish to receive the Holy Communion; and I wish you to make the arrangements." At one o'clock of the same day, it was administered by Bishop Onderdonk; there being present, beside myself, a clerical brother, who, he had particularly requested, should be asked to come, and a young friend from North Carolina, lately admit- ted as a Doctor of Medicine. He entered into the service with great feeling and fervour, responding with a firm voice throughout. When told to take the cup as the blood of the Lord Jesus,—" that I will," he said, " that I will." After the administration, "I wish you to take notice," he said, "that I have now dis- cerned the Lord's body as I never did before; and I confide as truly in my Saviour as if I saw Ilim in his glory." It was his last testimony. Pour hours afterwards, his mind wavered a little. He was occupied through the afternoon in singing hymns; at first distinctly, then the words ceased to be articulate, then the tune faltered on his tongue. At nine in the evening, he fell into a state of quiet from which he never was roused. From this time he sank gradually away, his moans grew fainter, his breath was more frequent, his pulse subsided. Without pain, without even the slightest motion to call our attention, we sat by his bedside in silence, numbering, as it were, the sands, as they fell audibly from the glass. At one of the morning of Monday, his spirit was commended in prayer to its merciful Creator, through the merits of the blessed Redeemer. lie JAMES MONTGOMERY. 601 continued gradually to fail. His pulse was still. He ceased to breathe audibly. At two o'clock, without a groan or a struggle, he expired. An infant's breath could not have passed away more gently. We kneeled beside him, before we left the chamber of death, and implored for ourselves the comfort of his grace, who alone can bind up the broken in heart, and give them medicine to heal their sickness. And now, my dear Doctor Sprague, let me assure you that the sacred pleasure with which I have written these memories of my sainted friend has been greatly increased by the feeling that it has been done at the instance of one towards whom I feel so sincere a regard as yourself. Believe me very faithfully your friend, G. W. DOANE. GEORGE WELLER, D. D. 1816—1841. FROM THE REV. JOSEPH C. PASSMORE, RECTOR OE ST. MARk'S, WASHINGTON COUNTY, MD., AND VICE RECTOR OF ST. JAMEs' COLLEGE. College op St. James, Maryland, ] June 1, 1858. Reverend and dear Sir : In answer to your request that I would furnish you with some account of the life of my father-in-law, the late Eev. Dr. Weller, I now proceed to give you such facts as I can gather in the short time that is left at my disposal before your volume goes to press. George Weller, son of George and Abigail Weller, was born at Bos- ton, Mass., November 15, 1790. His father was of German origin, and had been a Lutheran in early life, but for many years before his death he was a communicant and regular attendant in Trinity Church, Boston, during the Rectorship of Dr. Samuel Parker, who was afterwards Bishop of the Diocese. Young Weller's attachment to religion and his Church were both implanted at a very early age. He often used to say that he could not fix the date when his religious impressions were first received ; but he distinctly remembered how fond he was, as a child, of being taught in sacred things, and of hearing the narratives of Holy Scripture, as read and explained to him by his pious mother. He received a good English education in the public schools of Boston. After that, he was very anxious to go to college, but his father could not aff"ord to give him that advantage ; so, in order to relieve his parents and to earn a .support while pursuing his studies by himself, he learned the trade of a book-binder. After serving a regular apprenticeship, he removed to Newark, in New Jersey, where he opened a small bookstore ; but not find- ing much encouragement there, he removed to Danbury in Connecticut, where an only sister of his was then residing. Here again he set up a bookstore in a small way, and reported himself as an Episcopalian to the Rector of the parish. For some time previous his thoughts had been directed to the sacred ministry. Having communicated his views to the Vol.. V. 76 502 EPISCOPALIAN. Rector, that gentleman proposed to take him to a meeting of the Clergy of the district which was about to assemble, and there make known his wishes. Mr. Weller attended the convocation, and was much pleased with all its proceedings. He was particularly interested in the examination of a candidate for Deacon's Orders, at which he was present, and was sur- prised to find that, from his private reading in Theology, he could himself have answered most of the questions that were propounded. This deter- mined him to close his business forthwith, and in a few days he entered the family of the Eev. Dr. Judd,* of Norwalk, with whom he began his pro- fessional studies. Soon after this, he accepted an invitation to act as lay reader to a small congregation in Bedford, New York, where he officiated for the first time in June, 1814. He was very useful here in reviving the church : additions were made to the number of its members, and the neigh- bouring clergy were often called upon to baptize and administer the Holy Eucharist. While acting here as a lay reader, and preparing for Deacon's Orders, he had free access to the library of Chief Justice Jay, — an advan- tage which he highly prized, and turned to excellent account. The Jay family were members of his congregation, and he was indebted to them for many acts of kindness. *3ethel Judd, son of Noah and Rebecca Judd, was born at Watertown, Conn., in May, 1776. His father died at the age of eighty-six in 1822, and hia mother at the age of ninety- nine in 1838. His father was one of the original members of the Episcopal Society of Water- town, at its organization in 1764. He (the son) was graduated at Yale College in 1797; pre- pared himself for Holy Orders in the Protestant Episcopal Church, and was ordained Deacon by Uishop Jarvis, at Cheshire, on the 30th of September, 1798. He preached a couple of years at Woodbury and lloxbury, and then was called to Hudson, N. Y., and became Eeotor of Christ Church, in that place, in 1802. In 1806 or 1807, he supplied the small parish of Claverack. In 1808, he was chosen Principal of St. John's College, and Rector of St. Anne's Parish, Ann Arundel County, Md., where he remained several years. In 1813, he became Rector of St. Paul's Church, Norwalk, Conn. ; and in the same year, (and also in 1834,) he was elected one of the Standing Committee of the Diocese of Connecticut. In 1817 and 1818, he was Rector of St. John's Church, Fayetteville, N. C, and was at one time spoken of as a candidate for the Bishopric in that State. In 1819, we find him performing a mission of two months among the feeble churches of New London County, Conn., under the Episcopal Society for promoting Christian Knowledge. During about fourteen years from that time, ho taught a Female Academy in New London, and preached there and in other places in the region. From 1830 to 1836, he was a Curator of Washington (now Trinity) College, at Hartford. In 1831, that Col- lege conferred on him the degree of Doctor of Divinity. In 1834, ho removed from New Lon- don to Cheshire, Conn., and was Rector of the Church, and Principal of the Academy in that place for about two years. In 1836, he was again resident in Norwalk, and he preached for a time in Wilton. About the year 1837, he removed to the State of New York, and resided some time at Ithaca, Tompkins County. In 1843, he left Ithaca, and accepted a call from the con- gregation at Saekett's Harbour, Jefferson County, where he remained and was greatly pros- pered in his ministry between three and four years. In 1846, he removed to Avon Springs, on account of the health of his daughter, and had charge of ihe church there for about a year. In 1847; his daughter's health still continuing feeble, he went with her to St. Augustine, Fa.j and though he bad previously received an appointment as a missionary, yet, on his arrival the Vestry of the Church there elected him to the Rectorship. He remained there till the spring of 1848, when he was obliged, on account of a violent illness, to resign his charge and return to the North. He now took up his residence at Rochester, and after preaching a short time for a brother clergyman, engaged in missionary labour at Sodus, N. Y., in which he continued for nearly a year. The three or four last years of his life were passed partly in the State of New Y^ork, and partly with his son at Wilmington, De. He continued to labour, as he had opportu- nity, amidst the infirmities of age, and almost to the close of life. He died, in great peace at Wilmington, after an illness of about three weeks, on the 8th of April, 1858, having nearly completed his eighty-second year. He maintained not only a blameless, but hihgly honoured, character through life. The following is from the pen of Bishop Lee, who delivered an Address at his funeral :— " Dr. Judd retained in a remarkable degree his physical and mental vigour, and his enero-v was very little impaired by the burden of years. Within a month of his death, ho occupied tho pulpit, proclaiming the unsearchable riches of Christ with a fervour and animation surpassed by few younger men, and his pen had been busy during the past winter in producing articles for one of our religious journals. He was a ripe scholar, an earnest, evangelical and effective preacher, a courteous gentleman, and a godly man," GEORGE WELLER. 603 At this time Mr. Weller was very slender, and his whole appearance extremely delicate. His voice was so feeble that it could be heard only with great difficulty in a large apartment ; and he was so diffident as to render his delivery awkward and embarrassed. These things were so much against him that some of his best friends advised him to give up all idea of entering the ministry ; but the only effect of these remonstrances was to make him resolve to overcome entirely the difficulties which had prompted them. Each discourse was now delivered in a better manner than the preceding one, and his efforts were finally so successful that some of his acquaintances of that period, who heard him in after years, could hardly believe him to be the same person who, as a young lay reader, used to go through the service in such a school-boy fashion. On the 16th of June, 1816, Mr. Weller was admitted to Deacon's Orders by Bishop Hobart in St. Matthew's Church, Bedford ; and in the following month he married Miss Jane Haight, daughter of Mr. Nicholas Haight, who resided in that neighbourhood. During the remainder of this year and part of the following one, he officiated as a missionary in the counties of Putnam and Westchester. He was ordained Priest in St. Paul's Church, East Chester, April 2, 1817 : soon after which he accepted a call to the Kectorship of G-reat Choptank Parish at Cambridge, Md., on the Eastern shore of the Chesapeake, where he was instituted by Bishop Kemp on the 15th of November. Having lost his wife soon after his arrival in Maryland, Mr. Weller was again married, in 1818, to Miss Harriet Caroline Birckhead. This lady survived her husband, and died at Vicksburg, Mississippi, January 13, 1853. Mr. Weller laboured as a parish minister in Cambridge, for five years, with great usefulness. He won the hearts of his parishioners by his untir- ing zeal for their welfare, and his sermons were much esteemed for their ability and point. In November, 1822, he was elected Rector of St. Ste- phen's Church, Cecil County, Md. He accepted the call to this country parish, and he always looked back upon the three years spent there as the happiest portion of his life. During his Rectorship, the congregation built a new church, and the number of communicants was considerably increased. But the climate proved injurious to his health, and several severe attacks of fever rendered him almost unfit for duty. While living in Cecil county, he published a "Vindication of the Church," chiefly with reference to the validity of Anglican Ordinations, as denied by the Romanists. This essay was much approved by Bishop White, who was at that time looking out for some competent person to take charge of a religious paper about to be established in Philadelphia ; and when the author's name became known, it procured him an invitation to become the editor of the new publication. The first number of " The Church Register " was issued January 7, 1826, and it was edited by Mr. Weller, for three years, with much ability. In addition to his editorial labours, he officiated regularly at Hamilton and Mantua, West of the Schuylkill. He also edited, about this time, for a Philadelphia publisher, the first American collection of the Poems of Bishop Heber, to which he prefixed a short biography. Besides this, he republished several short treatises on Church doctrines, written by standard authors, (Jones of Nayland, Barrow, Law, Waterland, &c.,) which, under 604 EPISCOPALIAN. the name of " The Weller Tracts," are still regarded as a valuable selec- tion. He also acted as Secretary and Agent of the Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society, and wrote a full report of its proceedings for 1828. Finding his health now considerably restored, Mr. Weller determined to labour in the West. He accordingly removed to Nashville, Tenn., and became the Rector of a congregation in that place, which had been recently organized by the present Bishop of Tennessee, then a Presbyter residing at Franklin, some eighteen miles distant ; there being but two Episcopal clergymen then living in the State. In a short time after Mr. Weller's removal to Nashville, his people built the first edifice for Episcopal worship within the Diocese of Tennessee. It was consecrated in 1831, by Bishop Meade of Virginia. The building was soon filled with worshippers, and the labours of the pastor were abundantly rewarded. In the year 1834, Mr. Weller received the degree of Doctor in Divinity from the Nashville University. While living in Tennessee, he had several theological students as mem- bers of his family, and he directed the studies of some of the most useful clergymen of the West and South. He also opened a school for young ladies. It was small at first, but afterwards grew so large as to add con- siderably to the burden of his cares. While engaged in this way, he found time to write a thick pamphlet entitled, — " Two Letters in Eeply to certain Publications of the Rev. Dr. Samuel Miller, of Princeton." It was the design of this pamphlet to sustain Episcopacy by the testimony of the Early Fathers, especially Ignatius. At length, after five years' duty in the double capacity of pastor and teacher, his health, which had never been very robust, entirely gave way, and he suffered from an attack of epilepsy, which compelled him, for a time, to suspend all duties. Resolving to leave Nashville, he accepted, in 1838, a call to the Rectorship of Calvary Church, Memphis, where he remained ten months, in which time the congregation erected a small wooden church, and supplied it with an organ. In the early part of 1839, he became Rector of Christ Church, Vicks- burg, in the State of Mississippi. Here he found a good congregation, but no church edifice. They worshipped for some time in a hired room, but soon a lot was purchased, and a church begun. "Various difficulties and accidents hindered its completion, and Dr. Weller did not live to see the building finished. Although, at that time, there was much lawlessness and dissipation in Vicksburg, there were many persons too of refinement and of piety. Dr. Weller's parishioners were much attached to him. All looked promising, and he was preparing, in the autumn of 1841, to go North, to attend the General Convention. Just about that time, however, the Yellow Fever broke out in Vicksburg with great malignity. He at once determined to give up his journey, and remain at his post by the bed- side of his sick and dying parishioners. When the Fever became general, he removed his family to the town of Raymond, in Hinds County, a healthy place which was easily accessible every day by rail-road. He was generally with his family at night, but returned to town every morning, where he would remain all day, administering to the bodily and spiritual wants of the sick, and rendering the last sad offices to the dead. Owing to the GEOEGE WELLER. 605 scarcity of ministers in Vicksburg, his services were needed by many per- sons of all denominations, and on several occasions he remained in town all night. At length he was attacked himself by the disease, and returned to his family in Raymond, where, after an illness of a week, he died on the 9th of November, 1841, in the fifty-first year of his age, and the twenty- sixth of his ministry. His oldest son, George, a civil engineer, and a young man of great promise, died also of the Fever on the next day after his father. Three sons and five daughters of Dr. Weller are yet living, all children of his second marriage. One of the sons, the Eev. Reginald Heber Weller, is an Episcopal clergyman, now Rector of a church in Jef- ferson City, Missouri. To him I am indebted for some facts used in the preparation of this memoir. There have been few presbyters in the Episcopal Church who have been more widely or more favourably known than Dr. Weller. He was noted for his accurate knowledge of our Church History and Law, and for his thorough acquaintance with all the best literature of the Church of Eng- land. As a writer, he showed considerable power, though his very busy life left him no time for any but fugitive publications. As a parish minis- ter, he was active and efficient, and he has left enduring marks of his labours in the several places where he successively resided. The self-edu- cated Boston boy is still affectionately remembered as a man, in New York, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Tennessee, and Mississippi. In death as in life he was found faithful to his trust. In Christ Church, Vicksburg, there is a tablet to his memory, beside a similar memorial of one of his successors, a Christian hero, who fell at his post during a subsequent epidemic. Having now given you, my dear Sir, such answers as I could to your several interrogatories, I am, with great respect. Sincerely yours. JOSEPH C. PASSMOKE. HUGH SMITH, D. D. 1816—1849. FROM THE RET. HENRY ANTHON, D. D., EEOTOa OP SI. mark's church, new YORK. St. Mark's Rectory, ? New York, July 22, 1858. 5 Rev. and dear Sir : It is very gratifying to learn that in your opinion a beloved friend and brother of mine is fairly entitled to a place in your valuable and interesting Pulpit Annals ; and I cheerfully comply with your request to be furnished with some notices of his life, and some estimate of his character. Hugh Smith, was born August 29, 1795, on the " Denyse " (his grand- mother's) "farm," in the neighbourhood of Fort Hamilton, Long Island. His father's name, I think, was Hugh, and my impression is that he had the reputation of being a great humourist. He was trained for College at 606 EPISCOPALIAN. the Academy in Flatbush, and joined old Columbia in 1809, ranking on, his entrance, No. 5, in a class of forty, and marking the whole four years' course by a diligence and fidelity in the cultivation of a vigorous mind and versatile talents, which secured to him an ample harvest of sound scholarship and attainments. The Grace of God had won his heart previ- ous to his matriculation, and his College life throughout was so pure, peace- able, gentle and abounding in the fruits of a consistent and unaifected piety, that the most thoughtless among his mates loved him, while they teasingly dubbed him, — "Parson Hugh." It was the beauty of that example, no less than his persuasive counsels, which first led my thoughts to the ministry, and for forty years of most intimate fellowship, (thirty- three of which we were brother clergymen,) I knew no one that more adorned, in all things, the doctrine of our Blessed Master. Graduating in 1813, we commenced our theological studies under Bishop Hobart, from whom we both received Deacon's Orders in 1816, and Priest's Orders in 1819. In November, 1816, he was married to Miss Helen Clarke, daughter of the late James B. Clarke, Esq., of Brooklyn, and soon afterwards sailed for Savannah, where he supplied, most acceptably, the church during the absence of the Rector, the Rev. Mr. Cranston, until the following April, when he returned to New York, and was appointed by the Rev. Dr. Bowen (afterwards Bishop of South Carolina), his Assistant in Grace Church. In the same year he was called to the Rectorship of St. Ann's Church, Brooklyn, which he accepted, and the " History of that Parish by a Sunday School Teacher," furnishes many interesting details of the efficiency and value of his labours. In 1819, he removed to Augusta, Ga., and became the Rector of the Episcopal Church in that place. In the organization of the Diocese no one took a more active part. His counsels and influence were deeply felt in its Conventions and Standing Committees, and not a few there survive who love to call up the recollections of the Pastor, who, for eleven years, spared not himself that he might win souls to Christ. There were but three communicants in the Episcopal Church in Augusta when he entered upon his duties. During his Rector- ship a beautiful church was built, and a large and prosperous parish founded. Resigning this charge in 1831, he returned to the North to educate his child- ren, and be near his aged relatives, and was called to the Rectorship of Christ Church, Hartford, where ho continued till 1833, when, having been appointed Missionary of the Church of the Holy Evangelist in New York, he took up his residence in that city, and laboured with his usual success in this new field. St. Peter's Church, his last Parish, was offered to him in 1836. The Corner Stone was laid in the same year, and the building completed and consecrated in 1838, — the time when he received the degree of Doctor in Divinity from Columbia College. In October, 1836, at the request of the Standing Committee of the General Theological Seminary, he undertook the duties of the Professorship of Pastoral Theology and Pulpit Eloquence ; and disr charged them with great zeal and fidelity, and most acceptably to the Stu- dents and Trustees. But these duties, in connection with those of his parish, having seriously impaired his health, he resigned his temporary charge of the Professorship, and, obtaining leave of absence from his Vestry, sailed for Europe in 1837. He came back the same year with HUGH SMITH. 607 renewed health and spirits, and continued his labours among his attached people for nearly nine years, when he was compelled again to try a voyage which proved again of essential service. His health continued good until July, 1848 ; when he sailed once more for England, and after a short sojourn, returned wholly incapacitated for further duty, to struggle for a few months with the insidious malady which ended his life at St. Peter's Rectory, on Sunday morning, March 25, 1849, in the fifty-fourth year of his age. Dr. Smith was of medium stature, and, though by no means robust, was noted, when at College, for his strength and alertness, which were often shown in leaping, wrestling, and other sports. His kindness of disposition and courteous manners made a way for him in all hearts, whilst his unbending firmness, wherever principle and duty were involved, commanded universal admiration and esteem. He made the Ministry his choice with a single eye to God's glory and the good of souls. To preach Christ and Him crucified was the mark at which he aimed, from the time of his ordination to his parting hour, and the fields to which he was successively called, supplied abundant proofs of his earnest and self sacrificing devotedness in the work. Often, in our communings with each other, as years ran their round, has he said, — " We preach Christ crucified. This is our special work. Let us preach Him to the end, in the glory of his G-odhead, in the mighty efficacy of his atonement, and in the ofi^er of his priceless gift, the Holy G-host sent down from Heaven. As the Lord our Righteousness ; Christ Jesus made unto us, wisdom and righteousness and sanctification and redemption. This is the testimony for the times. We love our Church. Side by side we have humbly tried to be faithful to her cause. The holding forth of this truth we believe to be her chief glory. What would she be were its light in her to set ? Let us not know any thing besides Jesus and Him cruci- fied." The illness which proved his last visitation, brought with it many days of acute suffering ; but all its vicissitudes were borne with that Chris- tian submission which he had learned at his Lord's feet. For weeks the hope of his recovery gleamed up in many an anxious countenance, only to be again extinguished ; and to try to the uttermost his servant's faith, God in his wisdom took from his embrace his youngest son, who died after an illness of a few weeks, in his seventeenth year. The cup thus filled with fresh bitterness by his Heavenly Father's hand, doubtless helped to strengthen his watchfulness for his own departure. Three days before his death, he took occasion, when we were left alone at his request, to express his conviction that his course was run ; and then, in words never to be forgotten by me, spoke of his unworthiness in the sight of God, and of the short-comings and imperfections of his past ministry. "At times," said he, " I am almost overwhelmed at the thought of my sinfulness, and then again it seems as if I pierced through the vail," (looking earnestly upwards,) " and saw my Saviour interceding for me. His blood can wash all guilt away." " My friend and brother," he continued, " when you and I first began the ministry, I think we laid too much stress upon the outward. You know what I mean ; but since then, both of us, thanks be to God, have been better taught, I trust, how to preach, simply and fully, Christ and Him crucified." Looking at me very earnestly, as I was preparing to 608 EPISCOPALIAN. leave him, he observed, — "And now remember that what I said four years ago, when I was so ill that I did not expect to live, I say again. In many things which I have done, I believe that I did wrong ; but in that one matter, when you and I stood up to bear our testimony for Christ, and the Church, I feel persuaded tiow as ever, — mark it well, — that we did right; and the developments from that time to this, prove it was right. This gives me comfort now. Understand me. I do not take any merit to myself, — not a ^article of merit. I am nothing. I mention it to show how Grod, to whom I had made my prayer, gave me grace, and enabled me to bear up for the duty. Therein I rejoice, and find comfort ?witf." Dr. Smith here referred to the Protest made by us, July 2d, 1843, in St. Stephen's Church, New York, against the ordination of Mr. Arthur Carey, on the ground of his holding views contrary to the doctrine of the Protestant Episcopal Church, and in close alliance with the errors of the Church of Rome. (See Statement of Facts. Harper & Brothers, 1843.) The words in italics are the words which the Doctor emphasised in his peculiar way. It would be difficult to describe his energy of manner. On the day after this interview, he recurred to this subject, when his nephew, the Rev. Hugh S. Carpenter, of the Presbyterian Church, was at his bedside, and gave the same testimony in almost the same language. He mentioned also to him " his extreme caution and anxiety," — at the time the Protest was made — " how he had been roused from his bed at three o'clock of that very morn- ing, to visit a dying man, had staid by him till all was over and comforted his widow;" — then returning home, how he had "knelt down by this very bed, where," said he, "I now lie, and prayed with earnest, fervent sup- plication, that if I were under any delusion, God would show it to me, and not suffer me to do any thing improperly, or disturb the peace of his Church ;" how he afterwards " arose and went to St. Stephen's, and felt sustained and strengthened." It was Mr. Carpenter's privilege to attend his beloved relative in these his last hours, and to witness their triumphant close, and from him were gathered the particulars which were stated in the Funeral Sermon, preached by me at the request of the Vestry in St. Peter's Church, on the Sunday succeeding their Rector's decease. "When I was summoned," he remarks, " to my uncle's bedside, he had been for some time in a troubled sleep, and, startled out of it as I entered the room, he began to repeat the Hymn, — ' Jesus, Saviour of my soul.' Having roused himself thoroughly with this, he told me that ' his end was drawing near ; that this last failure of strength was very sudden, but that he had no fears.' ' That Rock, that blessed Rock,' said he, — ' if our feet are once upon it, nothing can dislodge us.' He wished me to bear testimony that he put all his trust in the atonement ; repeating earnestly the text, — And the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.' 'Yes — all sin.' He evinced great humility on account of sin, often saying, — ' I have had many infirmities.' ' I am a great sinner.' When I sought to comfort him by referring to his past labours, he would at first be melted to tears of joy, and himself recall instances of the kind, especially among the poor, but generally he distrusted himself so much as to stop me at once, saying, 'I am nothing.' 'I desire to lie low before the Cross.' ' A sinner saved by grace.' When texts and HUGH SMITH. 609 promises of Scripture were quoted, he took up the words and finished the quotation himself, and seemed to delight chiefly in such passages as were fullest of Christ. ' Is not that a noble text V he asked with great anima- tion, — ' It doth not yet appear what we shall be.' And again, ' Behold, God, our shield, and look upon the face of thine Anointed.' ' Yes, the Anointed One, Anointed to be a Saviour, the Messiah.' He said repeat- edly, ' the truths which I have preached to others, they comfort me now.' His sense of unworthiness at no time deprived him of confidence. He exclaimed boldly, ' Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.' ' I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.' ' I have no fears.' 'It is all peace, perfect peace;' and he spoke with great composure of those whom he should recognise in glory. On Saturday morning, thinking that his end was near, he observed, — ' My time is very short — I must leave my testimony.' For every one he had some affection- ate word of exhortation, pointing them all to the Saviour ; sent messages to the absent, appeared to overlook none ; and constantly kept saying, — 'My heart's desire and prayer to God for them is, that they may be saved.' " Early that morning a message was brought to St. Mark's Keotory that he was dying. As I approached his bedside, he said to me, — " I am going, myfriendand brother." " Is it peace?" I asked. "All peace," he replied, " through His merits," pointing his finger to Heaven. " A sinner saved by grace ; mark this well." Before we parted, the Communion was admin- istered to him by the Rev. Dr. Turner, of which, besides the family, the Rev. Dr. Wilson and one or two other friends with myself partook. Dr. Smith had previously remarked to me and others, with emphasis, — "Remem- ber that I desire it not as a viaticum, a necessary provision for a sinner in the death journey ; but for refreshment. We do thus show forth the Lord's death till He come." The night which succeeded was one of great restlessness ; but on Sun- day morning, he became calm, and expressed his firm but humble hope that God would receive him, and Jesus would be with him ; remarking " that he should not live the day out," and requesting, once more, the prayers of the congregation. The Rectory was next to the church. The church bell sounded loudly in the room, but he would not have it silenced ; . saying, that it did not disturb him. Almost speechless, a lingering look of devoted love and solemn consciousness was cast upon all encircling him. It was an hour always to be remembered. The organ was rolling up its tones that seemed to sound like the voices of another sphere, and the anthem's wave broke majestically upon the stillness of that chamber.. Then there was a sudden silence, for the sound of supplication was too subdued to reach his ears ; but he knew full well that, at that moment, the people who loved him, and had often listened to his voice, were in prayer for him to God. In a few moments his change came. He gently breathed. his last. In 1834, Dr. Smith published a little work of 350 pp., 12mo., entitled " The Heart delineated in its State of Nature and as Renewed by Grace.. By a Presbyter of the Protestant Episcopal Church." It was a very popular work, and exceedingly practical. The distinction indicated in, the title he undertook to show was the Scriptural one, leading to the ■■ Vol.. V. 77 6]0 EPISCOPALIAN. arrangement of all mankind under two great classes. And in addition to this primary distinction, he recognised some of those minor peculiarities which the Spirit of God has deemed worthy of specification. Besides this, he puhlished a Sermon occasioned by the death of the Eev. A. Carter, Savannah, 1827, and a Sermon on occasion of the Great Fire in New York, 1885. Truly yours, HENRY ANTHON. RT. REV. JONATHAN M. WAINWRIGHT, D. D * 1816—1854. Jonathan Mathew Wainwright, son of Peter and Elizabeth Wain- wright, was born at Liverpool, England, on the 24th of February, 1792. His father was an Englishman by birth, but came to the United States to reside immediately after the War of the Revolution. His mother was a daughter of the Rev. Dr. Jonathan Mayhew, a distinguished Congregational clergyman of Arian opinions, and a zealous opponent of Episcopacy. Mr. and Mrs. Wainwright were on a visit to England when their son Jonathan was born, and they remained there until he was eleven years old. During this period, he spent several years at a school at Ruthin, North Wales, under the care of members of the Church of England, where he received an early bias in favour of the principles of that communion. On the return of his parents to this country, he was placed at Sandwich Academy, in Massachusetts, under thecharge of Mr. Elisha Clap.t Here he was fitted for College, and in due time entered at Harvard, where he was graduated in 1812. After his graduation, he remained for some time at college, as Proctor, and teacher of Rhetoric ; and meanwhile he had resolved to enter the Ministry of the Episcopal Church, and had become a candidate for Holy Orders. It was a strong testimony to his conscientiousness in becoming an Episcopalian that, in doing so, he had to oppose the convic- tions, and doubtless the wishes, of a beloved and highly gifted mother, who remained to the close of life steadfast in her belief of the doctrines in which she had been educated. In the year 1816, he was admitted to Deacon's Orders, by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Griswold, in St. John's Church, Providence, R. I. Not long after this, he was called to the charge of Christ Church, Hartford, Conn., where he was admitted to Priest's Orders by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Hobart, who then had provisional charge of the Diocese of Connecticut, in the vacancy of the • Chnroli Review, VII.— MS. from Mrs. Wainwright. t Elisua Clap was a native of Dorchester, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 1797; was a Tutor there from 1801 to 1803; became a distinguished teacher of youth; and, after acquiring sufficient property^ to live independently, gave up teaching and removed to Bos- ton, where he pursued his favourite studies, — the Mathematics ; and, after frequent attacks of •disease, to relieve which he travelled and resided in more genial climates, he died of paralysis on the 22d of October, 1830, aged fifty-four. JONATHAN M. WAINWRIGHT. gJl Episcopate. By the same Prelate he was instituted Eector of the parish, on the 29th of May, 1818. On the 25th of November, 1819, Mr. Wainwright was called to be an Assistant Minister of Trinity Church, New York, as successor to the Rev. Thomas Church Brownell, who had been elected to the Episcopate of Connecticut. He accepted the place, and entered immediately on its duties, which he continued to perform with great acceptance, until his elec- tion, for a second time, to the Rectorship of Grace Church in New York, early in the year 1821. Here he spent thirteen years of active and unin- termitted labour, — devoting himself not only to the interests of his flock in general, but especially to the moral and spiritual improvement of the young, and to the cause of Missions, which was then quite in its infancy. His voice was often lifted up in behalf of the missionary cause, and one or two Sermons, having reference to that cause, which he preached and published during that period, were distinguished alike for broad and scriptural views and impressive eloquence. In 1823, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Union College ; and in 1835, the same degree was conferred upon him by his Alma Mater. Notwithstanding Dr. Wainwright's relations with Grace Church were every way most agreeable, he was prevailed on, in 1834, by the urgent solicitations of many prominent members of the Church, both clerical and lay, to accept the Rectorship of Trinity Church, Boston. Here he remained, however, only about three years, when he returned to New York to become an Assistant Minister of Trinity Church. The call had been given in the spring of 1836, but was then declined. It was renewed in March, 1837, and was then accepted ; the Congregation of St. John's Chapel becoming his more immediate charge. In this connection, he con- tinued till the close of life. In 1844, Dr. Wainwright engaged in a controversy with the Rev. Dr. Potts of New York, which grew out of an assertion which he made in responding to a sentiment at the dinner of the New England Society, — that "there is no Church without a Bishop." The controversy was con- ducted in the form of Letters (reaching to the number of nineteen) in the New York Commercial Advertiser, and was afterwards published and republished in pamphlet form. It was much to the credit of both dispu- tants, that, though each defended his own views with great earnestness, yet the controversy was never suffered to interfere with their pleasant social relations. Dr. Wainwright's health having become seriously impaired under the pressure of his manifold duties, he crossed the ocean in 1848, and in that and the following year travelled extensively in Europe and the East. After his return, he published two large volumes, containing his o^jservations on Egypt and the Holy Land, which are replete with interesting matter, and will long remain, a graceful memorial of his genius. On the 15th of June, 1852, Dr. Wainwright was a representative of the Episcopal Church in this country, at the celebration, in Westminster Abbey, at the close of the third Jubilee year of the Venerable Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts. A meeting of the 612 EPISCOPALIAN. Bishops in the United States had been called, by request of the Senior Bishop, for appointing a Delegation to attend this celebration, in response to a request of the Society, communicated by the Archbishop of Canter- bury. Bishdps M'Coskry and Delancey were appointed ; but as it was doubtful whether they would be able to fulfil the appointment, Dr. Wain- wright was requested to be the bearer to the Society of the Resolutions passed by the Bishops, expressive of their feelings on the occasion. It turned out, contrary to expectation, that the two Bishops who were appointed, were able to go ; but Dr. Wainwright was still received with the highest respect, and, with the Bishops, was honoured by the University of Oxford with the degree of D. C. L. On the 1st of October, 1852, Dr. Wainwright was chosen Provisional Bishop of the Diocese of New York, and was consecrated to that office on the 9th of November following. This was regarded as an occasion of the deepest interest, not merely from the very general satisfaction which was felt in the appointment, but from the fact that it marked the termination of an unhappy and protracted controversy. It was honoured by the pre- sence of ten Bishops ; and for the first time since the establishment of the American Episcopate, an English Bishop (of Montreal) united in consecra- ting an American Prelate. Bishop Wainwright entered upon his new duties with more zeal and self-denial than would consist with the state of his health, and with as much as if he had known how very brief a period was allotted to the dis- charge of them. Though he suffered frequently from attacks of illness, and was often admonished by his friends to moderate his labours, nothing could dissuade him from pressing forward and meeting the multiplied demands that were made upon his services, to the extent of bis ability. His last Sunday's services were performed, on the 27th of August, 1854, at Haverstraw, where he preached, morning and evening, to crowded congre- gations, with a Confirmation of thirteen persons, and an appropriate Address besides. He returned the next morning, greatly exhausted, to New York ; and on the succeeding day was found to have a fever. He was, however, engaged in some urgent Episcopal business on Wednesday, and even Thurs- day evening ; though he was altogether too ill to justify it. His last letter was written, from dictation, to the Bishop of New Hampshire, requesting him to take his place in consecrating a new church in Champlain, which was appointed for the 14th inst. His fever took on the typhoid type, and though the best medical skill was put in requisition, it proved unavailing. The stupor which is characteristic of that malady, gradually increased upon him, until it became absolute unconsciousness ; and in that state he quietly passed away, on Thursday, the 21st of September, in the sixty- third year of his age. The amount of official labour which Bishop Wainwright performed, was remarkable. It appeared from the Annual Report of the Standing Com- mittee of the Diocese, which met a few days after his death, that in the twenty-two months of his Episcopate, he confirmed four thousand, one hun- dred and twenty-seven persons, delivered six hundred and ninety-nine Ser- mons and Addresses — an average of more than one a day; ordained thirty-seven Deacons and twelve Priests ; and consecrated fifteen Churches. JONATHAN M. WAINAVRIGHT. 613 And even this did not, by any means, comprehena the full amount of labour which he performed. The numerous offices 'which Dr. Wainwright filled, and the important occasional services he was called to perform, in connection with his Church, show the high estimate that was placed on his character by those with whom he was in the most intimate relations. He was a deputy from the Diocese of New Yorii: to the General Convention of 1832 ; and was a member of the Diocesan Standing Committee from 1829 to 1833. After his return to New York, he was replaced on the Standing Committee, in 1844, and was continued there by four successive Conventions, until the state of his health required him to leave the country. He was Secretary of the Board of Trustees of the General Theological Seminary from 1828 to 1834. *He was, for many years, a Trustee of Trinity School, — an insti- tution founded in 1709 ; a Trustee of the Society for the Promotion of Religion and Learning in the State of New York ; a Manager and Vice President of the New York Bible and Common Prayer Book Society ; a Trustee of the Protestant Episcopal Tract Society ; and from the begin- ning an active member of the Executive Committee and the Board of the General Sunday School Union. The following are Bishop Wainwright's publications : — A Sermon before the Board of Directors of the Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States, at Philadelphia, 1828. A Sermon preached in Hartford on occasion of forming an African School Society, 1828. Four Sermons on Religious Education and Filial Duty, preached in Grace Church, New York, 1829. A Sermon preached in Grace Church, New York, on occasion of the death of the Rt. Rev. John Henry Hobart, D. D., 1830. A Sermon preached on occasion of the Annual Election in Massachusetts, 1835. Controversy with the Rev. Dr. Potts — " There cannot be a Church without a Bishop," 1844. Two Orders of Family Prayer, 1845, 1850; Pathways and Abiding Places of our Saviour: being an Account of Travels in the Holy Land, 1850. The Land of Bondage, 1851. He edited also Memoirs and Sermons of Bishop Ravenscroft of North Carolina, and the Life of Bishop Heber, carrying it through the press in this country, for the benefit of Mrs. Heber. He was married on the 10th of August, 1818, to Amelia Maria, daugh- ter of Timothy Phelps, Esq., of New Haven. They had fourteen children, six of whom died before their father. I had the privilege of some acquaintance with Bishop Wainwright from an early period of my ministry, and was always impressed with his fine, gentlemanly bearing, his simple and yet highly cultivated manners, and his great general intelligence as indicated by the aptness and richness of his conversation. No one, I think, could have known him even casu- ally, without learning the secret of his great popularity in every circle in which he moved. I never heard him preach but once, and then his dis- course was a fair presentation of Gospel truth, and in point of execution was chaste and perspicuous, but apparently not highly elaborate. 01 J. EPISCOPALIAN. FEOM THE HON. JOHN. A. KING. Albany, September 19, 1857. My dear Sir: My acquaintance with Bishop Wainwright commenced when he came to New York, as Eector of Grace Church, and at no distant period it ripened into a friendship that was terminated only by his death. I doubt not there are others whose observations upon his character have been made under greater advantages, and would be worth more to you, than mine; but since you have requested it, I will cheerfully give you my general impressions and recollec • tions in respect to him. There are some men, you know, whom it is easy to describe on account of some singularity, or eccentricity, or some one quality protruding itself greatly beyond the rest, which, though it really deforms the character, gives it a dis- tinctiveness, in respect to which the mind least accustomed to discriminate, can hardly mistake. But as far as possible from any thing like this was the charac- ter of Dr. Wainwright. There was not a rough point about him — certainly not in any of his external manifestations; but there was such an admirable harmony of the outer and the inner man, of the intellectual, moral, and even physical qualities, — the result partly of fine original organization, and partly of a careful and graceful development, that if you should produce a striking, much more a startling, picture, it would be proof positive that it was not true to the original. He was one of the most faultless men I ever knew; and withal had great posi- tive excellences; but so complete was the blending of the different qualities, that you had far more pleasure in yielding to the impression which his character as a whole made upon you, than in resolving it into its original elements, or analyzing its distinctive features. In his person the Bishop was fully the medium size, well proportioned, with regular features, and an expression indicative at once of benevolence and refine- ment. His manners, without any air of formality, were gentle, graceful, digni- fied, showing the highest culture, and worthy of the highest ofBce in the Church. His spirit was naturally exceedingly kind and amiable, and upon it were engrafted the most attractive graces of Christianity. While he was by no means wanting in generous frankness and manliness of character, he was eminently discreet and considerate in all his intercourse, and no matter what his circum- stances might be, neither the feelings nor the reputation of the present or the absent would ever be imperilled by any thing he might say, unless it were in obedience to considerations of duty, which, of course, he regarded as para- mount to every thing else. His intellect was rather symmetrical and graceful than highly forcible: his perceptions were clear, his judgment sound, his taste exact and cultivated; but I do not think that any of his mental operations were particularly rapid. As he had enjoyed the highest advantages for education, and had improved them most diligently, so his profiting in this respect appeared to all — even a slight acquaintance with him revealed to you the fact that, while he had large stores of general knowledge at command, he was especially an adept in classical erudition and polite literature. Ho was decidedly fond of music, painting, statuary, and every thing pertaining to the fine arts; and his ta|te in all these matters was excellent. As a clergyman. Dr. Wainwright, from the beginning to the end of his course, always had a high standing, and he always deserved it. His discourses in the pulpit uniformly presented some important truth or truths, in a perspicuous and elegant style, though without much ornament, or apparent attempt at elabora- tion. His manner, like his style, without being stately or studied, evinced the most careful culture; and it would not surprise you, after listening to him, to hear what was actually the case, that he had once been a teacher of Elocution ia JONATHAN M. WAINWIIIGHT. 615 Harvard College. Though his sermons were not perhaps what would be called of a very highly evangelical tone, yet they were such as all good Christians lis- tened to with approbation and profit. I am not certain but that some persons may have thought Dr. Wainwright mingled more with the world than was consistent with his highest professional usefulness. That he had a strong relish for social life, and was not averse to occasional innocent festivity, especially among his own people, must doubtless be admitted; but if he ever transgressed the bounds of the strictest propriety, or in the least degree compromitted the dignity of his Christian and official character, I am yet to have the evidence of it. When he showed himself the most cheer- ful and agreeable companion, he evidently never forgot, for a moment, that his vocation was that of a Minister of the Gospel. As a Bishop, he showed great conscientiousness, impartiality and fidelity. Acting, as he always did, upon the maxim, — " via media via tutissima," and uniting dignified firmness with the spirit of conciliation, he was eminently the Bishop of the whole Diocese, and enjoyed the confidence of both Clergy and Laity in an unusual degree. I may safely say that few men have been at once more beloved and trusted than. he. There was great mourning when he rested from his labours, and more than one generation must pass away before the fra- grance of his memory shall be sensibly diminished. With sincere regard. Your obedient servant, JOHN A. KING. FROM THE REV. FRANCIS VINTON, D. D., ASSISTANT UIHISTER OF TEINITY CHUKCH, MEW YOKK. New York, 12th January, 1858. Reverend Sir: My acquaintance with Bishop Wainwright dates from the year 1828. He was a member of the Board of Visitors at the U. S. Military Acad- emy, and I was a cadet. His aspect impressed me as that of a Christian gentle- man, while his courteous demeanour confirmed the opinion. It was my good fortune to attract his notice, and I was quick to accept his invitation to visit him at the Rectory of Grace Church in New York, where I frequently enjoyed his hospitality. After many years, I found myself in a closer intimacy as Priest in the Epis- copal Church with him. And the nearer I came, the more I admired him for his courtesy, his uniform kindness, his zeal, and his eloquence. Circumstances brought us at length into apparent rivalry, at the election of a Bishop. But this seeming antagonism served to evince the generous, humble, and fervent heart which he possessed. He was a man to love, and I loved him. I learned to love him more and more, as he (if I may say so) developed himself as an Apostle in the arduous duties of his Bishopric. More than once, on walking to the House of God together, leaning on my arm, hesaid,— "I valueandrely on your support in my ministry;" and I remember well the thrill which these words gave me; rejoicing that he, who took me by the hand when I was a boy, should condescend to give me his heart when I was a man. I was present at the last public meeting which he presided over, — a sick man, obliged to take his medicine, from time to time; and yet not faltering in his attempts to do his duty and to fulfil his oflSce. I saw him then, for the last time. But in a few days afterwards, I stood alone, with only his son, at the bedside where his corpse lay, — placid, serene, beautiful in death. The past fla.shed before me — I was a boy again, and he my mentor. ' The various relations we had borne in the urgencies of manhood, all coursed along the years to that GIG EPISCOPALIAN. hour — and I breathed a fresh vow of self-consecration to God in the ministry of his Church, as the lesson which Bishop Wainwright's life had taught me, and with the desire that, in my lowlier station, my last end might be like his. I have thus slcetched, with a running pen, my dear Doctor Sprague, according to your request, " a sort of history of my acquaintance with Dr. Wainwright." It is not worthy of being printed in the volume which your industry is pre- paring; but it is a grateful tribute to the memory of a good man, a worthy citi- zeUj an exemplary Bishop, my brother and my friend. With respect and very faithfully yours, FRANCIS VINTON. FKOM THE REV. T. "W. COIT, D. D., BECTOK OF ST. PAUl's CHUEOH, TKOT. Trot, N. Y„ February 24, 1858. My dear Doctor Sprague : I knew Bishop Wainwright, though not intimately, some twenty years before his lamented death. But about the year 1843, and especially during the year 1844, when we were much together, in the preparation of a standard text of the Prayer Book, I was very often in his company, and think I learned something of his character, which has not been sufSciently appreciated. By his general affability as a man, his exquisite taste and proficiency in art, he was thrown into a good deal of society, which some fancied he courted; when the truth rather was, that he was sought after, and often yielded up his time against his inclinations. To me, however, he was an uncommon devotee to duty; and it never surprised me to find him, at last, duty's most honourable victim, a martyr. Those who are familiar with his latest days, will well under- stand me here; for they know, with sad and still saddening conviction, that he sacrificed his life in the service of his sacred calling, when worldly or selfish prudence might have preserved it. When we met together over the Prayer Book, I expected to find a gentleman altogether amiable and delightful as a companion. But I frankly confess I did not expect to meet such a thorough and unsparing worker. Why, nothing would satisfy him, short of a revision of the volume, page by page, line by line, letter by letter, and figure by figure, from title down to colophon! He actually read the entire volume aloud to me, with the most pragmatical precision. It was my business to look over the authorities, and to call his attention to the slightest variations; and many a hearty contest did we have over a comma or an italic. He would sometimes do this for ten hours, upon a hot and sleepy summer's day; till / was exhausted, if he was not, and had to confess that characters of all sorts were dancing before me in misty confusion. I was amazed and confounded by the endurance and patience of a man, whom I had been taught to suppose was a dear lover of ease. If he was such a lover naturally, he knew how (under strong convictions of duty) to sacrifice that ease, without hesitation; and, in such a case, he deserves all the more credit for resist- ing his vis inerti(B witli courage and fortitude. Most particularly was I struck with his nice sense of obligation and responsibilit}', as a minister of a particular ecclesiastical communion. The rules and regulations of his own communion were absolute law to him. If he might have favoured a punctuation, e. g. in the Thirty-Nino Articles, more agreeable to his personal predilections, he would not allow one such comma to go, against established usage, or well known doctrinal authority. The rules of his Church (such was his avowed conviction and prac- tice) must stand unaltered, be his own fancies what they uii"ht. I could not but have strong confidence in the magnanimity and sincerity of such a man; and I acted upon such a conviction, in the last hour (for sp it proved) JONATHAN M. WATN WRIGHT. 617 when I was to come in contact with him on earth. But some three months before his life was brouglit to a close, he was in Troy, and expected to go down the river with a number of the clergy, to attend one of our quarterly convocations. Some of us expected to meet him at the depot of the Hudson River Bail Road. He was not there; and we were told he had been taken suddenly sick, and would go straight to New York. It was suggested that it never would answer to allow him to go home alone. Yes, said I, it will. He will never thank us for such courtesy, if we thereby forego our duty to the Church. He would much prefer that we should go right onward, and do our duty to her, and leave him to get along as he best can for himself. My suggestion was acted on, and we left him behind. I afterward narrated the circumstance to him in a letter; and his reply was like himself, — " You did me but justice." This letter is a brief one, and it is written during time which I have been obliged almost to steal from other avocations. Still, if it goes upon record, and satisfles any other person that he may be mistaken (as I own myself to liave been) respecting the character of Bishop Wainwright, or can induce any one to wish and pray that he may be like him, in his singular devotion to clear respon- sibilities and acknowledged duty, it may not have been written in vain. I am, Sir, with the highest respect. Your friend and obedient servant, T. W. COIT. RT. REV. JOHN STARK RAVENSCROFT, D. D.* 1817—1830. John Stark Ravenscropt was born near Blandford, in the County of Prince George, Va., in the year 1772. His father was Doctor John Ravenscroft, a gentleman of fortune, who had been educated to the medical profession. His mother was a daughter of Hugh Miller a gentle- man who resided in the same county. He was the only child of his parents, and both parents were of Scottish ancestry. Dr. Ravenscroft, shortly after the birth of this son, removed to Scotland, where he purchased a small farm, to the improvement of which he devoted the rest "of his life. After his death, which occurred about the close of the year 1780, his widow placed her son, who had hitherto been at a Grammar School in Scotland, at a Seminary of a somewhat higher order, in the North of England, where, besides continuing his classical studies, he was instructed in various branches of science. Soon after he had entered his seventeenth year, his friends thought it expedient that he should return to Virginia, to look after the remains of his father's property, which, owing to certain adverse circumstances, had been left in a very precarious condi- tion. He, accordingly, reached Virginia in January, 1789, and was very successful in accomplishing the object for which he came. Intending to devote himself to the profession of Law, he entered William and Mary College, where he had the advantage of listening to the Lectures of the • Memoir prefixed to his Sermons. — MS. from E. L. Winslow, Esq. Vol. v. 78 618 EPISCOPALIAN. celebrated Chancellor Wythe, then Professor of Law in that institution. He, however, profited little by any of his opportunities for improvement ; for, owing to the low state of discipline in the College, in connection with the large pecuniary allowance made to him by his guardian, he contracted habits of extravagance and dissipation, which rendered the time he ripent at College worse than lost to him. He remained, for some time, a luember of the College, with the ostensible object of preparing himself for che profession ; but it does not appear that he ever procured a license to practise. About the year 1792, Mr. Bavenscroft revisited Scotland, for the last time, with the view of converting the property he had inherited from his father in that country, into money, preparatory to his final establishment in Virginia. Having accomplished his object, he returned to this country, and was shortly after married to a daughter of Mr. Lewis Burwell, of Mecklenburg County, Va., a young lady of fine character and accomplish- ments, to whom he had become engaged during the time of his connection with William and Mary College. He now settled in Lunenburg County, not far from the residence of his father-in-law, and, for eighteen years, devoted himself to the usual pursuits of a country life. He seems, during this period, to have been respected as a person of integrity and benevo- lence ; buti he treated religion with utter neglect, and. as he himself states, never once bowed the knee in prayer, or even opened the Bible. In the year 1810, his mind began to take a new direction. In riding about on his plantation, he found his thoughts were turning inward upon himself; and his besetting sins, especially the indulgence of a passionate temper and a habit of profane swearing, appeared to him in an exceedingly odious light. After resolving and re-resolving to conquer his sins by dint of his own inherent strength, he finally became convinced of the fruitless- ness of all his efforts, and was brought to rely, not only for strength but for salvation, entirely on the unmerited grace of God in Christ. He con- nected himself first with a body of Christians called "Republican Metho- dists ;" being influenced to this chiefly, as it would seem, by the intimate relations which existed between him and one of their preachers. He was appointed a lay elder in the Church, and was accustomed, on vacant Sun- days, to read printed discourses for the benefit of the congregation. After having been engaged in this way about three years, increasing in knowledge himself, as he endeavoured to impart it to others, he began, in the year 1815, to think whether it might not be his duty to devote himself to the ministry ; and one of the first subjects to which his attention was directed, was the authoi iLy by which he should be commissioned to perform its duties. The result of his inquiries was a full conviction that the " Pro- testant Episcopal Church" was the "deposit of Apostolic succession, in which alone verifiable power to minister in sacred things was to be found in these United States." He, accordingly, presented himself to Bishop Moore, in the city of Richmond, together with his credentials, and was received by him as a candidate for Holy Orders. The Bishop furnished him with letters of license as a lay reader in the Church, dated the 17th of February, 1816. Having laboured for a year (the time prescribed by the Canons of the Church, previous to ordination) in the parishes of Cum- JOHN STARK RAVENSCROFT. gl9 berland, in Lunenburg County, and of St. Ames, in the County of Meck- lenburg, with much acceptance, he was invited by the latter congregation to become their minister. This invitation he accepted ; and, having received the necessary testimonials from the Standing Committee of the Diocese, and passed the requisite trials, he was admitted to the office of Deacon, in the Monumental Church in Eichmond, on the 25th of April, 1817. On the 6th of May following, he was ordained Priest at Freder- icksburg, during the session of the Convention in that place. Mr. Kavenscroft lost his wife in the year 1814, and was married to his second, a Miss Buford, also of Lunenburg County, in the year 1818. She died in January, 1829. Both connections were highly favourable to his comfort and usefulness. There were no children by either marriage ; but he brought up five orphan children, and towards each of them acted the part of a father. In 1823, Mr. Ravenscroft received an invitation to take charge of the large and flourishing congregation at Norfolk ; but, not seeing his way clear to remove, he promptly declined it. Shortly afterwards, however he received a call from the Vestry of the Monumental Church in Rich- mond, to be Assistant to the Venerable Bishop MoOre, who had charge of that congregation. To this call he was about to return an affirmative answer, when another, yet more imperative, reached him, which he did not feel at liberty to decline. The Episcopal Church in North Carolina had become nearly extinct, during the Revolutionary "War, and had scarcely begun to recover itself, until the year 1817, when a Convention was held for the purpose of reorganizing it. Under the supervision of the vener- able Bishop Moore, who was invited to take Episcopal charge of the Dio- cese, it increased gradually in numbers and strength, though there were many evils still to be corrected, and much work to be done, that required a direct and concentrated, as well as skilful, agency. Mr. Ravenscroft was regarded as possessing, in an eminent degree, the desired qualifica- tions ; and he was accordingly elected as Bishop of the Diocese of North Carolina, at a Convention held in Salisbury in 1823. His consecration took place at Philadelphia on the 22d of April, Bishop White and several others officiating on the occasion. The pecuniary ability of the Diocese being very limited, and the Bishop's private income having become greatly reduced, the Convention allowed him the privilege of devoting one half of his time to the service of a parish ; and he, accordingly, took the pastoral charge of the congregation at Raleigh. He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Columbia College, New York, in 1823. Bishop Ravenscroft was indefatigable in the disbharge of his Episcopal and pastoral duties ; and his vigorous constitution began at length to yield under the enormous burdens which he suflFeredto be laid upon it. In 1828, he found it necessary to give up the pastoral charge of the congregation at Raleigh, which required more attention than his health would allow him to give to it. He then retired to Williamsborough, where he took charge of a much smaller congregation, still, however, continuing his labours to the full extent of his ability. The Convention of 1829, sensible of his increas- ing infirmities, determined to release him from all parochial charge ; but (520 liPISCOPALIAX. the relief came too late. After the adjournment of the Convention, he visited the newly formed Dioeese of Tenijessee and Kenlucky, and thence went to Philadelphia, to attend the sessions of the General Convention in that city. The fatigue and exposure incident to these journeys had been very great ; but, after spending a few weeks in Philadelphia, under the care of some eminent physicians, his health seemed greatly recruited, and hopes began to be entertained that it might be completely restored. On his return to North Carolina, however, his unfavourable symptoms reappeared, in an aggravated form. In a letter written on the last of January, 1830, he says, — "I am weakening daily, and now can just sit up long enough at a time to scribble a letter occasionally." " But," he adds, " as respects the result, I am, thank God, free from apprehension. I am ready, I humbly trust, through the grace of my Divine Saviour, to meet the will of God, whether that shall be for life or for death ; and I humbly thank Christ Jesus, my Lord, who sustains me in patience and cheerfulness through the valley and shadow of death." He lingered till the 5th of March, 1830, when, in the entire possession of his faculties, he expired without a struggle. His remains were deposited in a small vault which had been prepared under his directions, some weeks before his death, beneath the chancel of Christ Church in Raleigh. The following is a list of Bishop Ravenscroft's productions, which appeared during his lifetime : — A Farewell Discourse preached in St. James' Church, Mecklenburg County, Va. A Sermon on the Church ; delivered before the Annual Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church of North Carolina. A Sermon on the Christian Ministry ; delivered in St. Peter's Church, Washington, N. C, at an Ordination. A Sermon preached before the Bible Society of North Carolina. A Sermon on the Study and Interpretation of the Scriptures, delivered in the Episcopal church, Raleigh. The Doctrines of the Church vindicated from the Misrepresentations of Dr. John H. Rice ; and Revealed Religion defended against the " No Comment Principle " of promiscuous Bible Societies. An Episcopal Cha,rge deliv- ered to the Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church, assembled at Washington, N. C, 1825. An Episcopal Charge delivered to the Conven- tion of the Protestant Episcopal Church, assembled in Hillsborough, N. C., 1826. An Episcopal Charge delivered to the Convention of the Pro- testant Episcopal Church, assembled at Fayetteville, N. C, 1828. A Ser- mon preached at the Consecration of Christ Church, Raleigh, N. C, 1829. After Bishop Ravenscroft's death, the above were republished, together with sixty-one sermons selected by him for publication, during his last illness, and a Memoir of his life, in two volumes, octavo. FROM THE EEV. HENRY M. MASON, D. D. Easton, Md., October 21, 1852. Rev. and dear Sir; In the character of Bishop Ravenscroft, which you ask me to delineate, was mingled much of the prudence of the Scotch from w}iom he derived his ancestral origin, and of the generous fire of the people of Virginia, — the State in which he was born. But, as the qualities of no man are equally balanced, there was in him by nature a preponderance over other qualities of JOHN STARK RAVENSCROFT. 621 that ;u-(lour, which, when chastened and sanctified, in his later years, made him so bright a light in that portion of the Church of God which he served. The native disposition, that tone of mind which constitutes its individuality, and as contradistinguished from acquired properties, is given us at our birth, may be niodifled by circumstances, and be directed to various objects and pursuits, but is never wholly lost, or without its influence on the conduct. In Bishop Ravens- croft, accordingly, this ardour of temperament, united with great firmness, dis- played itself in all the relations of life. But there was not wanting to it, from his very early years, a happy and controlling influence. In all the periods of his life, he has been heard to bear his testimony, from experience, to the salutary influence of the lessons of maternal care. There were years, however, when, in his case, that influence was transient, and comparatively without its fruits. Never wholly without some degree of religious sensibility, and the restraining checks of conscience, his earlier days, were to him, when grace had effectually wrought conversion in his heart, the subject of keen regret. By birth, education, and social disposition, preserved from some of the more debasing walks of vice, he mingled not the less in others, which also alienate the mind from God. It is not true, however, that, during his unrenewed state, he was evidently hostile to religion as exhibited in others, or as something which, though unsought, was not desirable for himself Such an opinion of him did indeed, at one time, extensively prevail, and was circulated in more than one of the periodical papers of this country and of England. It was said that his con- version from a loose and worldly life was instantaneous, and the work, under God, of one of his own old slaves. The slave — so ran the report — was truly pious, and given to frequent prayer. His master threatened chastisement, if not for his devotion, for its audible manifestation among his associates, or at the •' Quarters," — by which name the tenements of the blacks on the Southern plan- tations are distinguished. One night, the master, passing by, heard the voice of supplication, and purposing to carry his threat into execution, approached the door to detect the offender in the act. The slave was praying, but in his prayer was imploring with tears and groans the Divine grace in favour of his uncon- verted Master. The Master's soul was touched; the prayer was instantly answered, and the work of repentance and conversion was completed. "Sir," said the Bishop, to one who asked him concerning it, " there is no truth in that narrative. However careless for myself, I always respected the possession, in any degree or form, of the religious principle in others. The grace of God is without stint, but in what are called sudden conversions I have little confidence in individual cases, and less faith in their general results." Then, after enlarg- ing upon the nature, operations, and effects of grace, as was his wont, when any doctrinal subject was introduced, he stated a remarkable change from one evil habit, which materially and permanently affected the state of, his mind. He had been addicted to the gross and unmanly practice of using profane language, and the strength of words which afterwards distinguished him as the servant of God, no less, at that time, distinguished him as the servant of another master. His oaths were of no common kind. But he found that in those high circles in which he moved, the practice was growing into disrepute, that it was considered as indicating a certain deficiency in the tone and bearing of a gentleman, and espe- cially among the gentler sex it was noted with strong disapprobation. He resolved to abandon the pernicious habit. He was on a visit to a watering place of celebrity in his neighbourhood. Among the men who were there, arose some occasion of offence which aroused the dormant evil within him. He swore as men do not often swear. In his wrath he turned to go home; and then con.sid- eration, like an angel, came. " I reflected " — as he continued to relate the mat- ter — " upon the evil habit; upon the nature of sin, as an infraction of the Divine will; upon my own guiltiness in the sight of God; upon the motives on which I (322 EPISCOPALIAN. had determined to lay aside that particular sin, as weak and inoperative, in con- tradistinction to the prevailing power of God's grace. I reached home — I threw myself across the bed — I slid from thence upon my knees In prayer — I rose with the temptation to utter an oath removed and gone forever." His struggles against temptations and his conflicts with indwelling sin, can be known only to the Searcher of hearts. He was not among those who consider a present state of reconciliation with God a complete acquittal from compunction for the past; although the peace which passeth all understanding, derived from the holy hope and sense of that reconciliation, was the frequent theme of his private conversation and public addresses. As he was one day walking the streets of Payetteville with a young friend, a Deacon of his Diocese, the conversation, deepening in interest, had brought them near the door of the house they were to visit. It was so that the topics had turned on the effects of the initiatory Sacrament of the Christian Cove- nant, and the changes to be wrought in the soul, as necessary upon the sins com- mitted after baptism; and the younger was listening to the words of the elder — to the volumes of massive thought on the subject which were rolling from his lips. As their walk became slower, an individual approached them, somewhat advanced beyond the climacteric of life. The face of the Bishop flushed and brightened. Tbey were the friends of early years. Their hands were clasped, and they looked for a moment, without speaking, in each other's eyes. At length, said the other, — " Is this indeed my friend Stark Ravenscroft ?" " Yes, yes," replied the Bishop, — " I am that old sinner, you knew twenty years ago in Meck- lenburg: and here I am, by God's undeserved mercies, a preacher of righteous- Jiess to others." The conviction among the people of his Diocese that the Spirit of sanctiflcation was deeply wrought into his heart, as it was shown in his life, was of inappre- ciable moment to the success of liis ministry. It gave to the doctrinal truths which he taught, and the practical exhortations he enforced, from the pulpit, a power and energy to which even the force of his eloquence, which was great, and the fervour of his zeal, which was sublime, could not have reached. To what are called the graces of oratory in the pulpit, Bishop Ravenscroft paid no regard. The charm, or rather power, of his discourses was derived from the conviction of all who heard him, that his soul was in his words, and that neither the fear nor the applause of man was in his thoughts. Constitutionally courageous, there was in him no hesitancy in proclaiming boldly the truths he believed. He possessed more the force than the persuasiveness of eloquence; and there were occasions when, on addressing himself to the remaining sensibilities of the un- godly, his words flowed in a torrent of burning enthusiasm. " Oh, Sir," an indi- vidual of this cla.ss, who had grown gray in the service of the world, has been heard to say to the Bishop, as he walked out into the open air, after such a sermon, — " Oh, Sir, you have made me feel as I never felt before — God is greatly to be feared." So deep was his impression of the guilt of sin, and of the strong hold it had taken of the passing generation, that the majority of his discourses par- took less of the tenderness of Saint John, than of the nerve of Saint Paul or the rebuking spirit of Saint Peter. He was as fearless as the Sword of the Spirit could make him, and his sentiments on the subject were often expressed in private life in all the strength of style which characterized him and made his ordinary conversation so impressive. On one occasion, it is remembered that in a large and promiscuous circle of private friends who had called in the evening to show their respect for him, during his convalescence from a severe illness in Philadelphia, a young clergyman of the company had drawn a little apart with his Rt. Rev. Father. The conversation between them had turned upon the man- 'ner in which an audience should be treated; and the young man, who, however, was not one to shrink from declaring the wliole counsel of God, had spoken of JOHN STARK RAVEN SCROFT. 623 the different modes in which a speaker should address difTereut classes of hearers. At this point, the earnest manner of the Bishop had drawn attention, and a deep silence in the company ensued, when, striking his hand upon the table near him, Jie said, — " Sir, it may be so; but there are times when you must not withhold the terrors of the Law, but pour them boiling hot into their hearts." It must not, however, be supposed that there were not many occasions on which the winning invitations of Divine love formed the grateful themes of his discour.se. Of this kind especially were his Addresses to the young candidates for Confirmation, which were often extemporaneous, and uttered in reference to the particular incidents with which he had just before been made acquainted. At such times, his voice, ordinarily loud, full and sweeping in its tones, would soften into all the gentleness of a parent, addressing, from a heart overcharged with anxious love, his own children on topics of life and death. He was indeed a man of a tender heart, alive to every kindly sympathy of our nature. By con- stitutional temperament, generous and high-minded, the loftiness of his natural character became tempered by that Divine Spirit which sanctifies such qualities to the service and glory of the Giver. This combination peculiarly fitted him for the high office to which he was called as a, Chief Pastor in the Church of God. And in this capacity, perhaps more than in any other, the characteristics of his heart and mind shone with peculiar lustre. He had accepted, with little hesitation, the Episcopal charge of the Diocese of North Carolina. He was thoroughly aware not only of the general responsi- bility of such an office, but of the peculiar position and difficulties of the Diocese over which he had to rule. The Clergy wore few in number, and widely sepa- rated by distance. The War of the Revolution, though embracing among its prominent men a full proportion of Episcopalians, had left in North Carolina, as in other States, an impression not favourable to a Church, supposed herself to be favourable, from her origin and transmitted ecclesiastical name, to the civil pretensions of England. There was also a belief widely diffused of that Church being more regardful of the external decencies and guards of religion, than zealous for the life of God in the soul of man. To this opinion the life and preaching of the Bishop was an effectual and enduring rebuke. How many who are yet living can testify to the efficacy of his preaching, as having brought them from darkness unto light, and from the power of Satan unto God. And how- many more have been won by the pious example of the Christian life in his domestic and daily walk and conversation. An atmosphere of spiritual grace seemed always to surround him. It was impossible to be his guest for a few days, and not to catch something of the spirit which, in so many ways, told that he daily walked with God. His home, sanctified by the spirit of devotion, was the seat of hospitality. His Clergy were there always welcome; and there, it might be for weeks at a time, enjoying the rich flow of his varied conversation, they found in him, espe- cially the younger Clergy, the guide, the counsellor, the friend. With too much weight of character to fear the lessening of his personal dignity, the playfulness of his manners in the unbending moments of domestic intercourse in no degree detracted from the awe, mingled with love, which he inspired. His boys, as he was wont sometimes to address those with whom time or a more intimate acquaintance had made him most familiar, experienced at all times the urbanity of the Christian gentleman, and the warm interest of the devoted friend. In all their trials, he was ready to aid, to counsel, to sustain them. The Laity knew this, and for it honoured him; the Clergy felt this, and for it loved him. By such sympathy with his spiritual sons, they were supported in their arduous oflHce, and his own character was exalted. The Bishop's presence in a parish was a day of jubilee, the anticipation of which was always pleasurable, and its retro- spect always profitable. A single visit from him would sometimes effect what 624: EPISCOPALIAN. lengthened efforts by any other man had failed to bring to pass. He could do, and do strongly, what it would have been injudicious or injurious in another, at least in the same manner, even to attempt. On one occasion, he visited a remote and feeble parish, where the responses to the Service, which are the joy of the Episcopal Liturgy, were feebly made, or not made at all. " My dear Bishop," said the Presbyter, who was himself that day to be absent, — " I fear you will have few or none to join in the Service audibly, or to respond." " It is indeed to be regretted, my brother," replied the Bishop, — "for the responses are the charm of public worship; but we will see what can be done, and the evil must be remedied, if it can be." He went into the desli. He heard no voice in answer; no joint confession of sin; no union in the prayer of our Lord; no res- ponsive Amen. He paused, and then went on, till reaching the Apostles' Creed, — the faith of Universal Christendom, he raised his voice to a higher note. " I believe in God " — but there was none to answer. Again, he began the Creed — " I believe in Grod." Again there was no responding voice. With solemn loolc he turned his eye upon the assembly, and in a deep and reproachful voice, cried — " What ! Is it possible, my brethren, no one here believes in God but myself.'" The effect of those simple words was electrical. More than one voice toolt up the words; and it is said, the effect of the appeal was lasting. In referring to the happy home which the Bishop's dwelling always afforded to his Clergy, let me say that they who have experienced it cannot forget the charm that was imparted to that home, by the estimable and pious lady, — his second wife, who presided at that hospitable board. In the quiet and refined courtesy of her manners, she was a meet representative of the lady of the old school of old Virginia. She died before the Bishop; and it may marlc the affec- tionate relation subsisting between the Bishop and his Clergy, that, in a letter to one of tliem, he writes thus: — "Her departure was peaceful and in the Lord. Among her last expressions was the transmission to you of her love." It was a subject of great satisfaction to Bishop Eavenscroft, in the prospect of his departure, that, almost destitute of any earthly possessions, which, though once held in abundance, had, through the channels of generous friendship and charity, passed from him, he could enter into a better world, and owe no man any thing in this. To such a degree was this sentiment entertained, that, a short time before his death, he paid the expenses to be incurred by his cofln, his shroud, and his grave. In person. Bishop Eavenscroft was of a lofty presence, his eye piercing and full of command. In his manner there was an apparent austerity, which sprung, for the most part, from the strength of his mental conceptions, and the forcible language in which he expressed them. Ilis heart was full of the gentlest feel- ings of humanity. As a scholar and theologian, he could not be considered as deeply learned. But few men have brought to the study of the Scriptures a stronger native intellect, or have studied them more constantly or more tho- roughly. I once asked him — " to what authors. Bishop, do j'ou attribute the formation of your ecclesiastical views and principles ?" " My dear boy," he answered, " to this, and this alone," as he laid his hand upon the Bible; " for of other books on Theology, in the usual sense of that word, I never read so many as these;" throwing his arms around a pile which lay upon the table. He has left behind him a volume of Sermons and Charges, and a work on the Autho- rity of the Church of God, which is still a standard among the class of divines with which he ranks. In that work the strength of his character is more dis- played than in any other from his pen; and it may sometimes appear to approach to sternness and severity. He believed in the Church of God as Divinely con- stituted, and as the legitimate interpreter of Holy Writ. And under his convic- tion that latitudinarianism, and the idea that a man's own opinion was the test of truth, had become the predominant danger of the day, he fearlessly, at home JOHN STARK RAVENSCKOFT. 625 and abroad, in the pulpitand in private discourse, gave veut to the fulness of his heart on the subject. That Bishop Ravenscroft was without faults, who shall say ? But they were blemishes of the outward man alone, and reached not the spirit of the mind. A few days before his death, conversing on the solemn subject of the future, he said with emphasis, — " Bear me witness; I look for salvation only as a pardoned .sinner. I have much to be forgiven of God, and I have many pardons also to ask of my fellow-men for my harshness of manner towards them." "But," said he, lifting his eyes to Heaven and striking upon his breast, — " there was no harshness here." Of this great and good man it is, I may say, my pride to have been a pupil. I knew him well; I loved him living, and lament him dead; and the passage of more than twenty years over the tomb is wont to mellow the language of pane- gyric into that of truth. Upon his monument might well be inscribed, Multis ille bonis flebilis occidit; NuUi flebilior, quam mihi. That your work may subserve the common faith in which you and I have so great an interest, is the sincere wish of Yours truly in the Lord, HENRY M. MASON. REUEL KEITH, D. D * 1817—1842. Eeuel Keith, was a son of Eeuel and Abigail (Allen) Keith, and was born at Pittsford, Vt., on the '2Qih of June, 1792. A short time before his birth, his father removed from Hardwick, Mass., to Pittsford, where he kept a public house, and was engaged in furnace operations. The son, from early childhood, was passionately fond of reading, and at the age of twelve, had read all the books within his reach. When he was fourteen, he went to Troy, N. Y., as a merchant's clerk ; and there he first became attached to the Episcopal Church. The business in which he was engaged having proved incongenial with his taste, he formed the purpose of obtain- ing a collegiate education, and, after residing at Troy between one and two years, he went to St. Albans, Vt., and there fitted for College at an Acade- my then taught by Mr. Ira Hill. He entered Middlebury College, a year- in advance, in 1811, and graduated in 1814. He always ranked high as a. scholar, and graduated with distinguished honour. Shortly after leaving College, he went to Virginia, and spent a year as a. teacher in a gentleman's family. He then returned to the North, and in 1816, was a Tutor in the College at which he had been educated. On resigning his Tutorship, he became a student of Theology under the direc- tion of the Eev. (afterwards Kt. Kev. Dr.) J. P. K. Henshaw, then Kector of a Church in Brooklyn, N. Y.; and, after remaining there a few months,. * MSS. from hia famUy. Vol. V. 79 526 EPISCOPALIAN. repaired to the Andover Theological Seminary, with a view to avail him- self of its advantages without actually becoming a member. He completed his theological course in 1817, under the Et. Rev. Bishop Griswold, by whom also he was ordained as Deacon. He then proceeded to Virginia, and was ordained as Priest in Christ Church, Alexandria, by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Moore. Immediately on receiving Orders, he became an Assistant to the Rev. Walter Addison, Rector of St. John's Parish, Georgetown, D. C. Under his ministry a new congregation was soon formed, which, in 1819, completed a new edifice, (Christ Church,) in which he preached about one year. In 1820, he retired from this congregation, in consequence of having accepted the Professorship of Humanity and History in the College of William and Mary, Williamsburg, Va., with a view to take under his charge such candidates for Holy Orders as might wish to avail themselves of the advan- tages furnished by that College ; having, at the same time, some ulterior design of forming a Theological Seminary in connection with the College. Though this latter project did not take effect, a Theological Seminary was soon established in Alexandria, of which, during its infancy, he took almost the entire charge, at the same time officiating, on the Sabbath, in Christ Church. The Seminary was subsequently removed to its present site, about ten miles from Alexandria, and his connection with it, as Professor of Pul- pit Eloquence and Pastoral Theology, was still continued. In 1827, his Alma Mater conferred upon him the degree of Doctor of Divinity. Dr. Keith continued in the laborious and successful discharge of the duties of his Professorship until the year 1840, when his health began percepti- bly to decline. In the spring of 1842, his mind became entirely unstrung. In regard to the subject of his own personal salvation — though he did not at all doubt the truth of Christianity, he perseveringly maintained that he had 'HO interest in its saving blessings, and that his case was to be viewed in no other light than that of a reprobate. His brother in Vermont, hearing of his deplorable condition, met him in Philadelphia, to which place ho had come, and with great difficulty induced him to return with him to his native place, in the hope that a change of air and of associations might break up the monomania of which he was the subject. The desired efifect, however, was not realized — he not only refused all consolation, but very soon even refused nourishment, until he became a mere skeleton. And the cloud lay heavy upon his soul, until it was lifted away by death. His case, in some of its aspects, bore a strong resemblance to that of the poet Cow- per. He died at Sheldon, September 3, 1842, in the fifty-first year of his age. His Funeral Sermon was preached by the Rev. Alfred Stubbs, now of New Brunswick, N. J. He was married in December, 1817, to Marietta, daughter of George Cleveland, of Middlebury, Vt., who became the mother of four children. She died of consumption in Charleston, S. C, in April, 1830. He was subsequently married to Elizabeth Sewall, daughter of Stephen Higginson, of Cambridge, Mass., who died in December, 1839. By the second mar- riage he 'had no children. His two sons who survive, (1855,) were both graduated .at Middlebury College in 1845, one of whom is an Episcopal REUEL KEITH. g2Y Missionary in China, and the other a Professor of Mathematics in the United States Navy. The only publication of Dr. Keith was a translation of Hengstenberg's Christology, in 1836. FROM THE REV. EDWARD W. HOOKER, D. D. RoxBURT, Mass., February 27, 1855. Dear Sir: In reply to your inquiries respecting the late Eev. Dr. Keith, I will give you such recollections of him as I can now command. They are limited to the years in which we were in College together, with the addition of a short period subsequent, when he resided at the place of my own professional studies. My recollections of his habits as a student are of a young man of great indus- try, regularity, love for study, and thirst for knowledge. No member of onr class probably used his hours and minutes more faithfully than he. The cus- tomary relaxations and amusements of College young men, seemed to possess very little attraction for him; and I can hardly recall him to my mind as occu- pied in any other way than with his books and privileges as a student, and with the duties of a member of College. He was always ready for the exercises of the recitation or lecture room, and for the exercises of College generally, in which he had to do. As a matter of course, such a student could not fail to enjoy the perfect confidence of his instructers, and the respect of his fellow-stu- dents. In his temperament he was calm and agreeable; cheerful without levity er gaiety, and sober, sedate and dignified, without moroseness. His dispositions were faultless. Among all the little collisions of feeling which will arise among students, in the course of four years' residence together at College, I cannot remember the instance in which between Reuel Keith and any living being there was a moment's jar of feeling. Such a young man, of a surety, would have friends in all about him; and every student in College might be assured that he had a friend in Keith, if he had not himself forfeited his friendship. In his scholarship he was accurate and thorough. Prom the beginning to the end of the course of our class in College, he had no superior. If he had tastes for some departments rather than others, those were for the Mathematics and Philosophy; but no favouritism for these led him to slight any other departments; and he was a good scholar in all of them. Had the present method of marking the grade of scholarship in our schools been in use in those days, Keith would have stood in the first grade in all departments always. It is an indication of the estimate which the Faculty of College put upon his scholarship, that, in the appointment for the Commencement at which our class was graduated, the Valedictory Oration was assigned to Keith. The state of his health, for several of the last weeks previous to Commencement, and at the time, prevented his ful- filling the appointment. In respect to his denominational relations, — my impressions are that he was an Episcopalian when he came to College, and when services of that order were held in town, he attended them; but as there was then no Episcopal Church in Middlebury, and occasional services only were held for some time, he morecommonly attended with the Faculty and students at the Congregational Church. In the course of our Sophomore year, in a time of religious revival in the Col- lege, and I think also in the town, Keith was among those who were awakemd to the solemn concerns of religion. If the question had ever been raised in refer- ence to him, whether, with all his moral and mental excellences, he could need the regeneration of heart which is wrought by the Holy Spirit, it could be ans- wered by the facts, that he experienced a season of deep and distressing con 628 EPISCOPALIAN. viction of sin, and the danger of eternal woe, and that this was followed, after a brief period, by the relief, and the comforts and joys of hope in Christ Jesus. My recollections of an account which he gave of the process of his mind and feelings, at the time, lead me to say that his conversion was of a char- acter distinctly marked, and in its evidences such as to conduce to his own firm hope, and to the confidence of Christians respecting him. As a thinlier and reasoner, he was clear, accurate and just. I have a dis- tinct recollection that, at the exhibition of his class in our Senior year, he was appointed to give an oration upon some subject in Natural Philosophy. He chose so simple and unpretending a subject as the ascension of sap in vegetables, as involving certain principles of Natural Philosophy, — capillary attraction, for example. He treated the subject with such simplicity and clearness, that he had the attention and interest of the audience more than had any flourisher in fine rhetoric and rounded periods who appeared on the occasion. His style of writing was neat and terse, and very little, if at all, embellished; but it was tlie very best for the purpose of communicating thought. His manner of speaking was simple and appropriate to his matter. I have not been privileged with read- ing productions of his pen; but should anticipate, in opening a book or essay by him, solid instruction, conveyed in words carefully chosen and appropriate to his subject. Mr. Keith came to Andover Theological Seminary before the completion of my own course there, — I think in the third year after our graduation, — to reside for the purpose of attending lectures and pursuing study. I think he did not enter a class in the Seminary, but only availed himself of opportunities and facilities for prosecuting professional studies, customarily allowed to resident licentiates. From that period I do not recollect ever to have had the pleasure of meeting him. I have heard his good report often. And what I have heard of him as the Rev. Dr. Keith, occupying stations of trust and influence in his denomination, has ever been such as might justly have been anticipated of him, when he was Beuel Keith, a student in Middlebury College. Respectfully and affectionately, I am yours, dear Sir, truly, E. W. HOOKER. FROM THE REV. WILLIAM SPARROW, D. D.. PEOFESSOE IN THE THEOLOCHOAL SEMINAEY, FAIRFAX COUNTY, VA. Theoiogical Seminakt, I Fairfax County, Va., May 6, 1854. ) Rev. and dear Sir: You have requested me to give you some recollections of the person, mind, and character of the late Rev. Reuel Keith, D. D., my prede- cessor in the Professorship which I here hold. I do so with a mournful pleasure. I had known Dr. Keith, by correspondence, for several years before my removal to Virginia to be his colleague in this institution, and had twice been favoured with personal interviews with him during that period. After my arrival here, for the little time he remained among us, my intercourse with him was constant and close. Still, in what I shall say, I shall not rely, in matters of opinion, on my own judgment only, nor for matters of fact, confine myself to my own observation; but shall call in the aid of his personal friends. Dr. Keith was in person tall and slender, but not erect — he stooped much. His visage was thin; his nose aquiline; his complexion, hair, and eyes dark, the last, when his attention was aroused, intensely so, and very penetrating; his forehead lofty and expanded. There was about him, almost constantly, an air of solemnity that was very observable. When not engaged in preaching or con- versation, he seemed, whether in or out of doors, as though pondering some REUEL KEITH. g29 weighty and important subject. In the Conventional meetings of this Diocese, and in otiier such-like assemblies, he very seldom spoke or moved about as though taking an active interest in what was going on; but sat as one absorbed in his own thoughts. And yet he was not inattentive to any thing of real importance; he was only putting what he heard into his own crucible, and subject- ing it to a thorough analysis for his own satisfaction. Sometimes he showed this by a few unexpected remarks, — it may be abrupt, certainly striking. This pecu- liarity of manner in public assemblies arose partly from his extreme sensitive- ness, and also in part from his nearness of sight. Sometimes it arose from the habitual occupancy of his mind with the most solemn and important themes. Indeed, he always appeared to me a person on whoso intellect the great problems of human existence, though practically and happily settled for himself, pressed with incessant force, as matters of speculation and speculative adjustment. He lived in view of eternity in every way, and his whole demeanour — often even the minutest actions — showed that he felt continually the " powers of the world to come." As illustrative of this, a clerical brother informs me that when he was very young, he received from the Doctor a letter of introduction, with a view to a certain position, in which letter it was said, — " There is but one objection to the bearer, — his youth; but that will lessen every day: time passes like the weaver's shuttle." Such was the prevailing tone of his mind, in matters great and small alike; and it imparted itself to his look, and general mien and manner. And yet, on the other hand, as is apt to be the case with persons of his tempera- ment, he had his seasons of great cheerfulness and abandon, in which he would be very playful, sometimes indulging a vein of humour and satire with which he was largely gifted. When in this mood, he would make himself most entertain- ing, as, at all times, when disposed for conversation, he was instructive and edi- fying. In the class-room. Dr. Keith was habitually serious and even solemn; but still he was keenly alive to the ridiculous, and sometimes, accordingly, his gravity would be quite overcome. Keciting in Butler's Analogy, one day, a student, verj'^ imaginative, but by no means gifted with acumen or logical power of any kind, remarked, — " Doctor, I have detected a flaw in Butler's reasoning." The Doc- tor's lip instantly began to quiver, his face flashed out the broadest humour, he could not restrain himself, he burst into a fit of laughter. Recovering himself, he endeavoured to pass the matter off with the familiar and playful remark, — " "Well, brother, if so, I can only say you can catch a weazel asleep." The stu- dent of course did not announce his discovery. Dr. Keith was an absent-minded man, as might be inferred from what has been already said. It happened, on one occasion, before our chapel was built, and while Divine service used to be held in the Library on Sundays, that a Romish translation of the Scriptures was laid upon the desk by accident. He took it up to find the text on which he was about to preach, and read aloud the words " Do penance," instead of " Repent," as in our version. He was bewil- dered, and put his hand to his brow, as fearing apparently that his mind was forsaking him, or that, somehow or other, he had ceased to be a Protestant ! Some minutes elapsed, says my informant, who was present, before the truth flashed upon him, and taking a look at the title-page, he quietly laid the book aside. His mind, as was admitted by all adequate judges who had an opportunity to take its gauge and dimensions, was of a very superior order. All its movements, when it was fairly set in motion, were powerful and rapid. He possessed great acuteness of perception, and was capable of the most minute analyses. His memory was retentive, quick and accurate; and his imagination was quite equal to all the demands of his intellect for analogies and other illustrations. He was a highly respectable general scholar. His attainments in Theology were exten 630 EPISCOPALIAN. sive and especially exact. Whatever he professed to know, if important in its nature, he had thought out in all its details; and he was ever ready, when called upon, to give his opinion on such subjects; and it generally came forth mani- festly as the result of deliberation and settled conviction, though always fresh from the ceaseless interest which he took in all truth. His opinions were uttered with great confidence. Sometimes, perhaps, witli too much — not that his man- ner was, properly speaking, dogmatical — it was the simple earnestness which he felt in his heart, and which he did not seek to repress in speech. One who studied under him thus writes to me: " He never hesitated to express his opinion or confess his ignorance. Soon after going to the Seminary, when I thought a Doctor of Divinity must know every thing, I went to ask the Doctor the mean- ing of a text. I never shall forget my amazement, when, with the simplicity of a child, he said, ' I don't know what it means,' — making no apology or expla- nation whatsoever." Dr. Keith stood very high as a preacher. The qualities already mentioned, if only sustained by an adequate voice, — and he had a clear and melodious one, — would necessarily make him eminent in the pulpit. His great earnestness, the strong and prompt response of his heart to the conclusions of his head upon every subject, especially that of religion, together with his ready memory, his fine imagination, and his high intellectual discipline, all combined to make his public teachings, so far as connected with human instrumentality, of the most effective kind. It is the opinion of a clerical brother, who has had every opportunity and qualification for forming a sound opinion in the case, that he was the most accept- able preacher that attended the Episcopal Conventions of Virginia; while yet another brother,'who was also most favourably situated to take a correct view of the matter, has said to me that it was not on such occasions that he specially shone as a herald of the Cross. Neither upon a Convention occasion, nor yet even in any set discourse, very formally prepared, did the force of his intellect and spirit appear to the best advantage; but rather in the less formal gatherings for protracted religious exercises in the country churches. There he was perfectly at home, and his varied gifts, both natural and gracious, appeared in all their richness. On such occasions, having already a " full, accurate and ready" mind, after thinking and praying over the subject he had selected, — espe- cially praying for the space of an hour or two, — he would come forth in all the plenitude of Gospel grace and power. " It was curious," writes a friend, "to see how his mind and person would then unfold. Commencing with downcast eyes, in a stooping posture, with unimpassioned voice and manner, there was at first nothing to excite expectation. As his intellect and heart warmed, however, his person would become straightened, his body would dilate, his cheeks would glow, his eyes brighten, and his whole face become radiant with Divine truth and Divine emotion." His topic was always Christ; and in exhibiting Him, there was an unction about him which subdued the stoutest hearts, and melted the hardest. A friend has remarked that he never knew an instance which cor- responded more faithfully to Cowper's picture: " Much impressed Himself, as conscious of his awful charge And anxious mainly, that the flock he feeds. May feel it too; affectionate in look. And tender in address, as well hecomes A messenger of grace to guilty man." At these times, his subject seemed to absorb his whole inner man, and control the outer; in body and mind, he seemed, so to say, magnetized, — charged with Gospel sentiment and emotion, love to Christ, benevolence towards men, zeal for religion, and deep humility before God. No wonder that he was found emi- nently useful to his hearers. But, while thus doing good to others, he was as eminently happy in himself. Under the circumstances mentioned, it vras his EEUEL KEITH. g3J greatest happiness to stand in the pulpit. He loved his study, he loved his lec- ture room, but he delighted in preaching. As this was true more or less at all times, especially at religious associations in the country, so most of all did it appear so at any season of special interest among the people in spiritual things. Some fifteen years ago, there was a revival of religion in the two Episcopal Gram- mar Schools in this vicinity, the members of which, at that time, all attended the Seminary Chapel. On that occasion, the Doctor was most deeply and joyously moved, and, as every body remarked, seemed to find in life a new and exalted pleasure. It was plain that he sympathized most intensely in that joy which angels feel "over one sinner that repenteth." He was aroused, quiclfened, drawn out of himself, and made to rejoice with a "joy unspeakable and full of glory." Of his qualities as a parish minister I cannot speak particularly. He was but a very few years occupied exclusively with the charge of a parish. Perhaps he was by nature, and by his abstracted and studious habits, better fitted for the more public than the more private and pastoral duties of the clerical ofSce. lie was certainly more capable of handling truths than of dealing with men. Still it should be stated that the congregations to which he did minister, whether being a pastor only, or being occupied at the same time witli professorial duty, were always much attached to his person, and mourned his separation from them as a heavy loss. It is hardly necessary to add that Dr. Keith was a transparently honest man, and of the truest courage. lie rested too little on man, and too much on God, not to possess these traits. Many years ago, a handsome, showy youth, much caressed and even esteemed by persons of influence, became a candidate for Orders in this Diocese. Dr. Keith, as a member of the Standing Committee, refused to sign his testimonials. There was quite a commotion in consequence, and it was determined that the young man should call him to account. My informant was walking with the Doctor, when the explanation was demanded. "I would wish to know," said the aggrieved party, "the reason of this injury and insult." " There was nothing personal," calmly and firmly replied the Doctor : " I thought you had mistaken j'our calling." In other and more trying cases of the kind. Dr. K. was known to do the same thing. He believed that the ordaining officers of Christ's Church should " lay hands suddenly on no man," and that a large part of their responsibility devolved upon those who recommended young men for Orders. In the instance given, his discernment as well as his faithfulness was shown. The joung man obtained Orders, and after having been applauded for a year or so, abandoned the ministry, and it has beeTi thought, even apostatized from the faith. The only recreation which Dr. K. indulged in was riding and driving, of which he was fond. He had quite a passion for a fine horse, and often bought and sold, almost universally, as might be conjectured, to his own pecuniary loss. The use of a horse was a chief means of continuing to him the moderate measure of health which he enjoyed. His faults — and what man is there that liveth and sinneth not? — were such as might be looked for in a person of his temperament, which was one of extreme sensitiveness. While his failings were patent to all men, it was equally mani- fest that they belonged to the surface of his character, and, accordingly, the errors into which they led him, were soon seen, and quickly repented of and repaired. In conclusion, let me remark, I have said nothing in a formal way, about the general religious character of Dr. Keith, and I shall not now attempt it. Enough may be inferred upon the subject from the statements incidentally made. To sum up all in a word, he was eminently spiritual and devout. Even a brief season of intercourse with him would lead any one to this conviction. The deep- 632 EPISCOPALIAN. est solemnity, no way superstitious in its character or objects, but arising from a realization of tiie pure truths of the Gospel, habitually pervaded his mind, and invariably so, when he was engaged in religious exercises of any kind. He lived as in the immediate presence of God. " Thou God seest me," was a part of his consciousness. In the closet there must have been with him a nearness of access, and yet a sense of distance, which few attain; for whether it was in the social meeting for prayer, or in the great congregation, whether he was a mere worship- per or a conductor of worship also, there was a humiliation, a prostration of soul, in his devotion, that was most remarkable and affecting to every beholder. There was something very striking in his manner of reading the Service of our Church. He read it with a simplicity and fervour that brought out its various beauties, and affected the hearts of all that heard him. It was a common remark that " he did not so much read as pray the prayers." The views by which this spirit of devotion was fed, were predominantly deep views of sin, and high views of the majesty of God, leading directly to as precious views of the grace and glory of Christ, in his person and his work. It was such sentiments, — the teaching of God's Word and Holy Spirit, that made him so remarkable as a Christian and a Minister; and led all who knew him to consider him eminently, in the lan- guage of Scripture, and in every sense of the expression, A Man op God. Hoping that these few ill-arranged' thoughts may not be altogether useless for your purpose, I remain, Rev. and dear Sir, Very truly yours in Christ, WILLIAM SPAEROW. FEOM THE REV. R.BETHELL CLAXTON, D. D., BECTOR OF ST. PACL's CHUBCH, CLEVELAND, O. Cleveland, O., January 14, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir: My acquaintance with the Rev. Dr. Keith began in the fall of 1838, when I became his pupil as a member of the Middle Class of the Theo- logical Seminary of Virginia. He was then forty-six years of age, and in the very prime of his intellectual strength. His whole aspect commanded confi- dence, not to say, veneration; for, while courteous and affable, he had a quiet dignity of manner, and a serene thoughtfulness of countenance, such as spoke at once the Gentleman, the Scholar, the Divine, and the Christian. Of his excellence as an Tnstructer in Systematic Divinity I doubt not you have other testimony than mine. Let me only say that, in our recitations and in his lectures, his intimate and thorough acquaintance with the Word of God, to which he ever referred as the only infallible standard, gave him a marked advantage as a safe and valuable guide. He was a very moderate " Calvinist," if such a name can be rightly applied to one who called no man Master; receiv- ing in their obvious sense " the Articles of Religion " as they had been handed down by the illustrious Reformers of the English Church. I do not remember his ever using any language of denunciation towards those with whom be differed in sentiment; for though clear in his own conceptions, and firm in his convic- tions, he delighted in recognising the likeness of Christ, wherever it could be seen; and he could readily " agree to differ " on non-essentials with those, in his own Church, or in other communions, who gave evidence of love to the Saviour. Among his most valuable exercises with the students were those in the weekly social meetings conducted by the Faculty. Here these truths were ur<»ed, devo- tionally and practically, which, in recitations and lectures, were taught theoreti- cally and in their relations to a system of religion. His addresses, at such times. EEUEL KEITH. 633 were warm, pungent, elevating, heart-stirring; coming from a soul which, we could not doubt, enjoyed close and constant communion with Christ. In the Literary- exercises, such as the reading of Essays, and Debates on points of History, of Literature, or of Controversial Theology, he used often to relax the dignity of the Professor, amusing us with his quiet wit, while instructing us by his nice discrimination, and by the pertinent facts which his ready memory enabled him to cite. On one occasion, some of the disputants having rashly attempted to maintain extreme positions, on either side of the Doctor's own mid-way and moderate views, — when the usual summing-up was expected, Doctor K., who had been a little annoyed by what were too much like side-thrusts at himself, rose and, in his own quiet way, said,—" I feel lilie a bundle of hay between two asses," — and left the room. As an extemporaneous preacher, Dr. K. had few superiors. He often wrote his sermons in full, and delivered them with great power: but his unwritten sermons were still more acceptable, and evidently more effective. He never was willing, however, to preach without careful preparation, as he once said when, declining to preach on the following Sunday, he was still urged to "preach an extempore sermon," — "Ah! if a written sermon would do, I might draw on old stores; but if you want an extempore sermon, I must have a uiceA: to get ready." His excellence as a reader, whether of Scripture or of the Prayers and other Offices of the Liturgy, was of the very highest order. He threw his whole soul into what he read. No one could hear him, and then say that prayers could not be prayed, when read from a printed form. A classmate who was usually absent from the Chapel on Sunday, doing missionary duty at a distance, once said to me, (having spent his Sunday on the Hill,) " There is nothing that I so much regret losing by my absence, as the privilege you enjoy in hearing Dr. Keitli conduct the Service." The " Te Deum," from his mouth, used to sound to mo as I have never heard it uttered by others. No chanting by the most skilful choir has ever seemed to me so elevating to the soul, as the thrilling warmth of his devotion, kindling as it did into instant life the devotions of those who wor- shipped with him, and sustained by the full i-esponses of Professors, students, and others who composed the Chapel congregation. The most striking instance of his power in this respect, that occurs to my mind, took place at Norfolk, at one of the Virginia Diocesan Conventions. Dr. K. was requested to open the exercises at an early morning prayer meeting. The church was nearly filled: and when he rose, and the people were expecting a short address before Prayer, he used, instead of language of his own, the Exhortation which usually introduces the Morning and Evening Prayer of tiie Episcopal Church. Many of us had heard that address, several hundred times; yet, as he began, " Dearly beloved brethren," there was an instantaneous hush, and before he had finished the recital of these familiar words, there were, I su.s- pect, few eyes in that assembly that were not sufi"used with tears. It was heart answering to heart: a tribute, not to studied or artistic eloquence, but to the holy glow of a soul that felt all it uttered, and that was restrained by no con- ventionalism from uttering all just as it was felt. It was my privilege to be admitted to a rather more intimate personal acquaintance with Dr. K. than most of the students enjoyed. On one occasion, the Doctor, riding on a winter's day, was thrown from liis horse which stum- bled by breaking through some ice in the road, and was brought home with a broken arm. While he was thus disabled, I was permitted to spend much time in his society; and I learned there lessons of the practical application of the doctrine of a particular Providence, such as I never can forget. His organ- ism, both physical and mental, was such that he seemed peculiarly sensitive to pain; yet he bore this trial with more than cheerfulness, — with a positive Vol. V 80 634 EPISCOPALIAN. thankfulness, — not merely " that it was no worse," but that it had been sent at all. He told me one day that his physician (who was understood to be a sceptic) could not conceive it possible that a Christian could find occasion for thankfulness in such an injury. " Yet," said Doctor Keith, "I can truly say that such has been my enjoyment in the strong confidence I have that God sent this trouble, dnd meant it for good, that I can even rejoice that it has happened." But he whose faith was thus firm, and whose patience was so exemplary, found, under more severe trials, that though the spirit might be willing the flesh was indeed weak. His wife, — who had been, in every way, his helper, who had studied after their marriage (if I mistake not) both German and Hebrew, that she might read to him, in those languages, when his eyes troubled him, — his beloved wife fell a victim to her own kind sympathies for some of the youths of the High-School, who were prostrated by fever. Nursing them in their sickness, she herself sickened ; and, after a very short illness, fell asleep in Jesus. In a brief interview with the Doctor, not long afterward, I saw the ravages that grief had made, not only in his altered appearance as to bodily health, but in the evident tokens of a mind trembling under insupportable anguish. Even then, like Cowper in his desponding hours, he spoke in a vein of pleas- antry : but his lacerated and sinking heart was mysteriously permitted to drag down to its own depths his once active and powerful intellect; and so, from this sin-disordered world he passed away, to wake to a new, a holy, a happy con- sciousness, when, in his Saviour's presence, he should be restored to the society of her, "dimidium animse suse," whose loss had been too much for nature — (shall I say, even for grace.') to be able to bear. Yours with respect and Christian afiection, R. BETHELL CLAXTON. FROM THE REV. CLEVELAND KEITH. MISSIONART AT SHANQHAI, CHINA. Petersburgh, Va., March 16, 1858. Dear Sir : As I have been apprized of your intention to include a sketch of my honoured and revered father in your work commemorative of American cler- gymen, I take the liberty to communicate to you a few well authenticated anec- dotes that I have gathered concerning him, that may help to illustrate some of his more prominent characteristics. At the commencement of his professional career, he was greatly sfmbarrassed, by constitutional difBdence, in his public services. "While pursuing his studies, and at the same time engaged in teaching, he was called to fill the ofiBce of lay reader in Westmoreland, Va. A casual hearer of the Service, and a stranger to him, on leaving the church, remarked, — "Well, that young man has mistaken his calling." But the observer lived long enough to hear him when his gifts as a preacher and reader of the Service of our Church were everywhere acknow- ledged. Another friend mentioned to me that his difficulty of speaking extempore in the early part of his ministry was so great, that he had actually been known to give up the attempt, and sit down in silent defeat. But some of the extempo- neous efforts of his later years were, in the judgment of his friends, among the best efforts which he ever put forth. A gentleman in Alexandria mentioned to me that my father's memory was so tenacious, that a sermon he composed the latter part of the week, was thus com- pletely in his memory, and he had ordinarily no occasion to refer to the manu- script, which he always kept snugly deposited in his pocket. On one occasion, however, my friend remembered that his memory failed, and he stopped and fumbled in his pocket for the manuscript, and, after finding the desired passage. REUEL KEITH. 635 folded up the sermon, and put it back in its accustomed place. Again, however, his memory proved treacherous, and the sermon was again withdrawn in a sim- ilar manner, and when the purpose was answered, it was restored to its old hiding-place, and he went on with his discourse with unbroken composure. The narrator added, — " No one else could have done it without detracting from the solemnity of the occasion." The same friend also recalled another scene in connection with my father. It was in -one of the early years of Bishop Meade's Episcopate, and on the occasion of the meeting of the Virginia Episcopal Convention, in Christ Church, Alexan- dria, of which, at that time my father was pastor. The Bishop's sermon before the Convention was on " the Responsibilities of the Ministry." My father was observed to lay his face in both his hands, and weep bitterly. The next day, he arose before his congregation, and confessed his own short-comings in the most affecting manner. The Bishop was then in the prime of his power as a preacher; and I may add, as an interesting incident, though not connected with my father's history, that the discourse aUuded to led anotlier distinguished clergyman, who has since become a Bishop, to say that if he had not already entered the ministry, he would not dare to do so. I will only add one more anecdote — and that is illustrative of his power of attracting the young. A young lady, a member of his parish in Alexandria, met a young man with whom she was on intimate terms, and who asked her where she was going. "I am going to get Mr. Keith to explain a text to me," was the answer. He said, — "Not that solemn looking man!" To this she replied, — " You had better come with me and get acquainted with him." The}' went; and, as the lady told me herself, they could not bring themselves to leave his study for more than two hours, and not till it was actually dark. I find that the great holiness of his life has made the strongest impression upon all. I have been told, in this connection, that his wife (my step-mother) would sometimes wake in the night, and find him kneeling in an agony of prayer for his charge. These are but a small part of the illustrative anecdotes which might be fur- nished concerning him, but probably they are as many as your Umits will allow you to record. Yours very respectfully, CLEVELAND KEITH. JAMES WALLIS EASTBURN.* 1818—1819. James Wallis Eastburn, a son of James and Charlotte Eastburn, was born in the city of London, on the 26th of September, 1797. His father came with his family to this country, and settled in New York, as a merchant, in 1803. Subsequently, however, in consequence of the non- intercourse which led to the War, and which occasioned an entire suspen- sion of commerce, he became an extensive publisher, and for many years kept one of the largest bookstores in the United States. As I remember him, I should say that he was a man of excellent sense, of very consider- • Account of the Celebration of the First Semi-centennial Anniversary of ths Incorporation of Columbia College Memoirs of Kobert C. Sands, prefixed to his Works. — MSS. from Bishop Eastburn and G. B. Eapelye, Esq. g36 EPISCOPALIAN. able cultivation, of urbane and gentlemanly manners, and altogether of high and honourable bearing. His admiration of Dr. Mason, with whoni he was most intimate, seemed scarcely to have a limit. After the arri- val of the family in New York, this son was put to a school taught by Malcolm Campbell, well known at that time as a classical teacher ; was afterwards under the tuition of the Eev. Edmund D. Barry, D. D.,* of Trinity College, Dublin ; and subsequently was placed with his younger brother (now Bishop Eastburn) at what was known extensively as tKe New York Grammar School, of which Dr. Mason was one of the Trustees. From this school he was removed to one under the care of the late Rev. Thomas T. Warner, t and his brother, H. H. Warner, Esq., and went thence to Union College. In the autumn of 1813, having taken his dis- mission from Union, he joined the Sophomore class in Columbia College, New York, where he graduated in 181G. Having been early impressed with religious truth, he was confirmed at St. George's, New York, and became a communicant not far from the time of his graduation. Shortly after this, he commenced his theological studies at Bristol, R. I., under the direction of the Right Rev. Bishop Griswold, and remained with him through his whole course. The following extract from a letter addressed by his father to Bishop Griswold, in acknowledg- ment of a letter of sympathy from the Bishop, on the occasion of young • Edmcnd D. B abry was born at Einaale, County of Cork, Ireland, in 1777, and in his nine- teenth year entered Trinity College, Dublin. About this period the famous Irish rebellion broke out, which terminated so disastrously, especially for its leaders. The existence of a Society composed exclusively of students, whose professed object was to resist the measures of Government, came to the knowledge of the authorities of the College, and Mr. Barry was sum- moned before the Lord Chancellor, and ordered to reveal the names of his associates. On his declining to do this, the charge of contumacy was preferred against him, and he was obliged, in consequence, to leave the College, after an attendance of nearly three years, and embarked for the United States, where he was subsequently followed by Emmett, McNevin, Sampson, and others. After his arrival here, he supported himself by teaching a school in which young men were fitted for College, and at the same time was pursuing his studies immediately preparatory to the ministry. He was ordained by Bishop Moore in the year 1804, just about the time when the ^Trench congregation changed its relation from the Church of Geneva to the Protestant Episcopal Church, — and became Assistant Minister to the Kev. Mr. Albert, the Rector; the former officia- ting in English, and the latter in French. This connection lasted only between two and three years, when it was dissolved by the death of the Rector. Mr. Barry, hovvever, continued his school until 1816, when he removed to Baltimore, and became Professor of Languages in the Univer- sity of Maryland. Here he remained for eight years, and then returned to the city of New York, and resumed his school there, at. the same time officiating to a small congregation in Jer- sey City. This arrangement continued until a few years before his death, when, the congrega- tion having gained so much strength as to be able to erect a decent edifice (St. Matthew's Church) and to afford Dr. Barry a comfortable support, he abandoned his school, and devoted himself entirely to the ministry. Several of the present Bishops and many of the inferior Clergy have been prepared for College under his tuition. He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity about the year 1819. He died as Rector at Jersey City on the 20th of April, 1852, in the forty-ninth year of his ministry, and the seventy-fifth year of his age. PiEttRE Ahtoine Albert, above referred to, was born, in 1765, in Lausanne, Canton of Bern, Switzerland. He was admitted to the ministry of the Church of Geneva, and officiated for some time in his native country. He came to the United States in 1797, having accepted a call to the Pastorship of the French Church in the City of New York. In 1804, the greater part of the congregation being Episcopalians, it was resolved to adopt the Episcopal mode of worship. The Church (Du bt. Esprit) was consecrated, and Mr. Albert was reordained by Bishop Moore, to qualify him to officiate in conformity to the resolution. He died in the forty- first year of his age. He is represented as having been " an accomplished gentleman, an erudite scholar, a profound theologian, and a most elegant and exemplary preacher." t Thomas T. Warner was a native of Columbia County, N. Y. j was graduated at Union College in 1808; was Tutor there in 1811-12; was admitted to the ministry by Bishop Brownell, of Connecticut, in 1821 ; and immediately accepted a call as Rector of the Danish Episcopal Church on the Island of Santa Cruz. Here he married and remained several years. In 1828, he was appointed, by President Adams, Chaplain and Professor of Moral Philosophy at West Point, which station he held for about ten years, and then went to Europe. He officiated occa- sionally in the English language in Paris, for some time previons to his death, which occurred in thatoity in 1849, at the age of about sixty-one. JAMES WALLIS EASTBURN. 637 Eastburn's death, reveals a fact of great interest concerning him, which, otherwise, might not have transpired : — There is one most interesting fact, which James communicated to his mother, and which 1 feel it my duty to mention to you. When he went to Bristol, he was, exter- nally, a Christian, without reproach; but he said ' his heart was unchanged, and his views uusanctified.' He added, — ' it was under your searching ministry that light first broke in upon his mind, and was followed by an entire renewal of heart, and a conse- quent change in all his views.' It was this circumstance, in connection with many others, which determined the nature, and fixed the strength, of his attachment to you." He was admitted to Deacon's Orders by Bishop Hobart, in Trinity Church, New York, on the 20th of October, 1818. Almost immediately after his ordination, he became Rector of St. George's, Accomac County, Va., where he had a very brief, but uncommonly successful, ministry. His fine talents and remarkable acquirements were laid as an humble offering at the foot of the Cross ; and the one great work of saving souls awakened all his zeal, and enlisted all his energies. During a ministry of about eight months, he was instrumental, as he believed, in the hopeful conversion of seventeen persons. Bishop Meade, in alluding to him in his " Old Churches, Ministers, and Families of Virginia," says, — " From every account we have received of him, whether from New York or Acco- mac, he must have been one of the most interesting and talented young men of our land. He came to Virginia at a time when ample material still remained in Acromac for the exercise of his pious zeal, and it was exercised most diligently in all the depart- ments of ministerial duty, but especially in the instruction of the young by means of Sunday Schools. He is still spoken of in the families of Accomac as ' tliat extraor- dinary young man.' " Mr. Eastburn had naturally a good constitution ; but he had always through life applied himself too closely to study, and the severe winter climate of Bristol gave him a cold which was the precursor of the malady that terminated his life. In the summer of 1819, in consequence of his excessive labours, he was attacked with bleeding at the lungs, and he returned to his father's in New York, with consumption evidently fastened upon him. About the close of November, he sailed with his mother and brother (the Bishop) for Santa Cruz ; and on the 4th day after leaving port, 2d of December, he expired ; and was buried at sea. There is a monu- ment to his memory, in St. Greorge's, Beekman Street, New York, executed by Prazee, with a Latin inscription by Eobert C. Sands. Mr. Eastburn's publications, though not numerous, have impressed his name indelibly on the literary history of his country. At the age of eigh- teen, he composed the beautiful Trinity-Sunday Hymn in the Prayer Book Collection, No. 77 ; beginning,—" Oh, holy, holy, holy Lord," &c. In 1819, during his residence in Virginia, he composed an exquisite lyric, of five or six stanzas, entitled " The Summer Midnight," which appeared, shortly after, in the New York Commercial Advertiser. He was also the author of various anonymous Essays in different periodicals, which, in their day, attracted no small attention. But that with which probably his literary reputation is more identified than any thing else, is the Poem entitled " Yamoyden, a Tale of the Wars of King Philip," which he com- posed in company with his friend, Robert C. Sands, and which was edited by the latter, and published in 1820. g38 EPISCOPALIAN. FKOM THE EEY. JAMES ROMETN, D. D. New Beunswick, N. J., March 29, 1858. Dear Brother: You are right in supposing that James Wallis Eastburn was my classmate at Columbia College; but I regret to say that, owing partly to impaired health, affecting in some degree my memory, and partly to the lapse of years, I have only the most general recollections of him. I linew'him well, but was never in the most intimate relations with him. I am not sure that I ever saw him after we parted at Commencement in 1816, and the most striking fact that I remember to have heard concerning him was that he had, in an almost incredibly short time, written out fifty sermons ! Of course I do not vouch for the truth of it. Of his person I retain a vivid recollection. T think he was about five feet nine inches in height, with rather sharp features and an intelligent expression of coun- tenance. His large feet and remarkably long taper fingers are yet in my mind's eye. His habits were retiring, and his intimacies restricted to a few; and there was probably . less of freedom and grace in his movements and manners than there would have been if his tastes had led him to mingle more in general society. The late Robert C. Sands was his Jonathan. I remember that they conjointly projected and executed a Poem called " Yamoyden;" and so very similar was the structure of their minds that it would not have occurred to you that the whole Poem had not a common origin. He had an extraordinary facility in com- position and in chirography. He had an exuberance of wit, and a quiet mirth- fulness, without any approach to the boisterous. His disposition was gentle and kind, and well fitted to endear him to those with whom he was intimate. Hi.s love of books was intense; and his father spared no pains to gratify his taste, and surround him with those influences which were favourable to the culture of his intellect. I remember him'altogether as having been an agreeable and profit- able companion. To make up for the scantiness of my own recollections, I take the liberty to add the following beautiful tribute to his memory, from an Oration delivered by his brother, the present Bishop of the Diocese of Massachusetts, at the celebra- tion of the First Semi-centennial Anniversary of the Incorporation of Columbia College. " I shall not apologize for here introducing the name of the late Eev. James Wallis Eastbukn. For I feel the firm conviction that, while I am weaving a garland of fraternal affection to hang upon a brother's tomb, I am performing an office in which many whom I now see would gladly join me; — many in whose memory still dwells the recollection of his refinement, his various attainments, his simplicity unfeigned; many also, who, though they never knew him, have seen some of the effusions of his mature and richly furnished mind. Conge- niality of tastes led him to the formation, during his College days, of an intimacy with Sands, which lasted until death. It was during the period of this literary friendship that, as the public already know, he formed, and , in company with Sands, executed, the design of embodying in a poetical narrative the fortunes of Philip, the Rhode Island Indian King. Pursuing his preparation for Holy Orders in the immediate vicinity of Mount Hope, the residence of this fated chieftain, he found in these scenes a strong excitement for his imagination; and was enabled to give the most perfect accuracy to the local descriptions of the Poem. This work, completed and arranged by Sands, after the death of his friend, is now before the world; and, with all the defects to be expected from the early age of both its composers, has acquired for itself the character of an uncommon production. " The remains which Eastburn has left behind him are amazingly voluminous. I will venture to say that there are few who, on arriving at the age of twenty- two, which was the limit of his mortal career, will be found to have accomplished JAMES WALLIS EASTBURN. g39 so nmcli literary composition. Ilis prose writings, many of which appeared anonymously, in a series of periodical essays, conducted by himself and some of his friends, take in an extensive range of moral and classical disquisition; and are models of the purest Addisonian English. The great charm, however, of all his writings is the tone that breathes through them. Whatever be the sub- ject, the reader is never allowed to forget that the pages before him are indited with a pen, dipped in the dew of Heaven." With much regard, yours, JAMES ROMETN. FROM THE REV. MAURICE "W. DWIGHT, D. D. Brooklyn, April 16, 1858. My dear Sir: Your request respecting my early and lamented friend. Bast- burn, I cheerfully comply with. We entered Oollege together in 1812, and were members of the same Society, as well as the same Class. Excepting the late Robert 0. Sands, who belonged to the class above us, but was connected with him in some literary engagements, no individual was more intimate with him than myself. Your letter, waking up the recollections of years long since passed away, has brought him before me in all the freshness of early manhood, his heart expand- ing with generous emotions, and nobly aspiring not after worldly distinctions, but after the qualifications necessary to extended usefulness. Though a young man, surrounded with temptations, and connected more or less closely with many who yielded to their influence, he never strayed from the right path. Gentle and aft'ectionate in his disposition, and unaffected in his manners, he was respected and loved by all who knew him. His taste was for the classics and belles lettres, rather than the severer branches of study; and his classical attainments were equal, if not superior, to those of any other member of his class. To a thorough acquaintance with Greek and Latin he added such a knowledge of French and Italian as enabled him to read the best authors in those languages with ease and fluency. A large proportion of his time was spent in general reading, by means of which he acquired an amount and variety of information seldom possessed at his age. But though his resources were such as qualified him to write with ease on any subject, yet, from diffidence or some other cause, he was far from being a ready extemporaneous speaker. Like Addison, his mind would not work freely, when he took the floor in debate; but let him take pen in hand, and he was per- fectly at his ease, and in a very short time would produce a well digested and instructive essay, on a subject upon which he found it difficult to utter even a few words extempore. He was much devoted to literature, and the productions of his pen that have been given to the world, especially the Poem on the Wars of King Philip, which was the joint production of himself and his friend Sands, secured to him no inconsiderable degree of literary fame. His talents were unquestionably of a high order, and, with his habits of indus- try, would, if he had been spared, have given him a high rank among the distin- guished men of his country. He wrote with great facility, and showed himself possessed of ample resources for both argument and illustration, on any subject to which his mind applied itself. In the days of his youth he became sensible of the unsatisfying nature of earthly things, and in his manhood he seemed to be almost a stranger to those workings of the soul which are ever goading men to the pursuit of gain, or honour, or power, or disposing them to waste life in scenes of amusement. He was sober-minded, yet always cheerful. His mind was early set upon the ministry, and his grand object evidently was to quahfy him- self thoroughly for the discharge of its duties. Much as he loved learning, and strove to enrich himself with its varied treasures, it was not with ostentatious g^O EPISCOPALIAN. views, or through a fondness for admiration. Humble in his views as well as feelings, he desired a home -where he might devote himself to the improvement and salvation of a plain, simple-minded, honest-hearted people. To such a place the hand of Providence directed him; and there, in the spirit of the true man of God, he spent the brief period of life that was allotted to him. Nor was his strength spent for naught. He was an eloquent preacher, a faithful pastor, a wise counsellor, a devoted friend. Too soon, alas ! removed from the sphere he was so admirably fitted to adorn and bless. With great respect and consideration, I am yours truly, M. "W. DWIGHT. JASPER ADAMS, D. D * 1819—1841. Jasper Adams was born in East Medway, Mass., August 27, 1793. The first sixteen years of his life he spent upon his father's farm, where he obtained a plain English education. At the age of seventeen, he resolved on obtaining a collegiate education, and commenced his preparatory studies under the instruction of the Rev. Luther Wright, the Congregational min- ister of his native place ; and so diligent was his application that he was fitted to enter College the following year. He, accordingly, entered Brown University at the age of eighteen, and graduated in 1815, taking the second honour in his class. Mr. Adams had been educated a Congregationalist ; but, during his Col- lege course, his mind was directed to the arguments in favour of Episco- pacy, the result of which was that, when he made a public profession of religion, he joined the Episcopal Church. It had been his early purpose to study Medicine ; but the change in his religious feelings, which led him to become a communicant in the Church, led him also to direct his atten- tion to the Christian Ministry. On leaving College, he went to Andover to pursue the study of Theology at the Theological Setoinary, and at the same time accepted the place of assistant teacher in the Andover Academy. At ihe close of this term, in 1818, he accepted an invitation to return to the College at which he had graduated, in the capacity of Tutor ; and, hav- ing served in that capacity for a year, he was chosen, in 1819, to the Pro- fessorship of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy in that institution. On the 2d of September, in this year, he was ordained Deacon, by Bishop Grriswold, and Priest shortly after. He retained his connection with Brown University until 1824, when he accepted an invitation to become Principal of the College in Charleston, S. C. This institution had had, for many years, only a dubious existence, but an effort was now made to resuscitate it, and fix it upon a permanent basis. Mr. Adams was encouraged to believe that the enterprise might succeed, * MS. from Mrs. Adame.— Do. from Eev. Dr. Gilman.— Fun. Serm. by Rev. C. C. Phick- ney, Jr. JASPER ADAMS. 641 and he consented to identify himself with it the more readily from a convic- tion that his health, which was somewhat impaired, would be benefitted by a Southern climate. He arrived in Charleston in May, (1824,) but retired from the city early in the season, in consequence of the appearance of Yel- low Fever, and passed the summer on Sullivan's Island. Mr. Adams found that he had many serious difficulties to encounter, some of which he had, and others he had not, anticipated ; but he set him- self to meet them with the utmost diligence and resolution. After having laboured with great zeal until the autumn of 1826, and finding himself still greatly embarrassed in his efforts to raise the institution, he resigned his place, and accepted the Presidency of Greneva College in the State of New York, to which he had a short time before been appointed. The Trustees, in accepting his resignation, adopted Resolutions, testifying their great respect for his character, their high estimate of his services to the institu- tion, and their deep regret at his departure. In 1827, Mr. Adams was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Columbia College, in the city of New York. In October, 1827, some important changes having taken place in respect to the College at Charleston, that were thought to be favourable to its pros- perity, the Trustees were led to consider the expediency of inviting Dr. Adams to return to it as Principal ; and the result of their deliberations and of a correspondence with him on the subject, was, that he consented to return, and actually did return and take charge of the institution, about the end of April, 1828. He was infiuenced, in some degree, to this deter- mination by the fact that, during the two winters which he had spent at Geneva, his health had suffered from the severity of the climate, and he was apprehensive that he could not remain there but at the peril of his life. His return gave a new impulse to the College, and the number of students rapidly increased until it rose to two hundred and twenty. His connection with the institution continued until the close of 1836, when, owing to various adverse circumstances affecting his usefulness and com- fort, as well as the prospects of the College, he resigned his office. The Trustees, at the close of his administration, bore explicit testimony to his " faithful services." During two years of his connection with the College, he was Rector of St. Andrew's Church, near Charleston, — the only pasto- ral charge he ever had. In 1838, Dr. Adams was appointed Chaplain and Professor of Moral Philosophy in the United States Military Academy at West Point. He accepted the place, but, having discharged its duties for two years, resigned it, and returned to South Carolina, and took up his residence at Pendleton, where he rendered very acceptable services to an Episcopal congregation. It was his intention still to devote himself to the education of youth, and he was contemplating the establishment of a large Episcopal school, when his purposes were broken by death. He died of a typhoid fever, after a week's illness, on the 25th of October, 1841. He was delirious from the time that his case became alarming, so that he was not able to render a dying testimony to the sustaining power of the Gospel; but such testi- mony was not needed, for his whole life was an epistle known and read of all men. A Sermon was preached at Pendleton on the occasion of his- Vol. V. 81 642 EPISCOPALIAN. death, by the Eev. C C. Pinckney, Jr., then of Greenville, now (1857) of Charleston, and was afterwards published. Mr. Adams was married to Mercy D. Wheeler, of Medway, Mass., in May, 1820. She died in November, 1821, leaving one son. He was married a second time, on the 4th of September, 1823, to Placidia, daughter of the Hon. William Mayrant, of Statesburg, S. C. By this marriage there were five children. Francis M., his eldest child, was graduated at Yale College in 1841, studied Law, and was admitted to the South Carolina Bar, and now resides in Greorgia. Another son, Joseph, has graduated honourably at the Military Academy of South Carolina. One daughter was married to Dr., J. C. Calhoun, a son of the Hon. John C. Calhoun, in 1849, and died within a little more than a year after her marriage. The following is a list of Dr. Adams' publications : — An Inaugural Dis- course delivered in Trinity Church, Geneva, N. Y., 1827. The Belations of Christianity to Civil Government in the United States of America : A Sermon preached in St, Michael's Church, Charleston, before the Conven- tion of the Protestant Episcopal Church of the Diocese of South Carolina, 1833. Law of Success and Failure in Life : an Address delivered in the Chapel of the College of Charleston, before the Euphradian Society, 1833. Characteristics of the present Century : A Baccalaureate Address to the Graduates of the College of Charleston, delivered in St. Paul's Church, at the Annual Commencement, 1834. The Moral Causes of the Welfare of Nations : An Oration delivered in the Chapel, before the Society of the Graduates of the College of Charleston, 1834. A Sermon preached in St. Paul's Church, on the Morning of Advent Sunday, being the day of the Total Eclipse of the Sun, 1834. An Eulogium on the late Elias Horry, 1835. A Baccalaureate Address delivered in St. Paul's Church, at the Annual Commencement of the College of Charleston, 1835. A Sermon on Advent Sunday, 1835. The Elements of Moral Philosophy, 1837. This last work was the subject of high commendation from many of the distinguished men of the country. The Hon. Justice Story writes thus to the author con- cerning it : — " It appears to me to be an exceedingly valuable addition to our present literature on Moral Philosophy, and to possess a peculiar excel- lence in the fulness and comprehensiveness of its practical views and pre- cepts. In this respect it is far superior to any treatise that has fallen under my observation. I have been also much gratified by its blending the pre- cepts of Christianity with those derivable from natural justice, and also with the illustrations which you have drawn from the moral precepts of our municipal jurisprudence — a source of information which has been hitherto neglected." FROM THE EEV. CHARLES C. PINCKNEY, JR., KEOTOR OP GKACE CHUKCH, CHAKLESTON. S. C. Charleston. August 4, 1858. My dear Sir: Having been under the care of the Rev. Jasper Adams, for six years, while at school, and in the Charleston College, I feel justified, in compli- ance with your request, in furnishing you some brief sketches of his character. The impressions created by our association as teacher and pupil, were subse- quently confirmed by neighbourly intercourse. JASPER ADAMS. 643 As a Christian minister, Dr. Adams was acceptable to those under his care. But the leadings of Proyidence did not carry him far in the pastoral office. He never had the charge of but one church, and that for only two years; but he was still always ready to aid his brethren, and fill a vacant pulpit. Several of his sermons which be delivered in Charleston were published, by request of his auditors, and will well repay perusal. They are plain, didactic, logical. They exhibit deep thought, extensive reading, and accurate research. To condense his thoughts as much as possible, and to convey the largest amount of instruction, seems to have been his leading aim as a preacher. As a teacher, I can say more of him, for this was the chief occupation of his life. For nearly thirty years he was employed in this capacity, and had, during this period, upwards of two thousand young men under his care. And I can truly say that he was the most patient, conscientious and successful teacher I have ever linown. Punctual and indefatigable himself, he would often inspire the habitual sluggard with the desire for mental improvement; and so indomita- ble was his perseverance that the most sturdy foe of Greek and Latin would generally succumb, and learn to cherish a, friendly feeling for Homer and Livy; and even those most disposed to eschew Mathematics, would sometimes bow in reverence to Euclid and Legendre. As a writer and a man of learning, Dr. Adams had a place among the distin- guished men of our country. His thirst for knowledge was Intense; and his knowledge, when acquired, uncommonly exact and well digested. Besides his occasional Sermons and Addresses to which I have already referred, he pub- lished nothing, so far as I know, but his Treatise on Moral Philosophy — a work which evinces profound thought, and which has received the highest praise from many most competent to judge of its merits. Its object is to place morals more clearly than Paley has done on a Christian basis. It is on this work chiefly that Dr. Adams' claims to high intellectual distinction must rest with posterity. If I were asked what was the most striking trait of Dr. Adams' character, I should say, patient, untiring industry. As an economist of time, it would be difficult to find his equal. In all my intercourse with him, I do not remember to have ever found him unemployed. He was always acquiring or imparting knowledge, or stowing it away for future use. It was by this means that he gained his large literary stores; that, notwithstanding he began his education late in life, he became an eminent scholar. And this unquestionably is the most important element in all human success. There are few blessings, temporal or spiritual, which God has not put within the reach of the diligent. And when " the hand of the diligent " is outstretched in faith and prayer, it can pluck the fruits from the topmost boughs not only of the tree of knowledge, but of the tree of life. In person Dr. Adams was tall, erect and muscular. His complexion was florid: his eyes blue; his features regular; his hair somewhat inclined to curl, and in his latter years quite gray. His manners were grave and dignified. He was in a remarkable degree a man of method, and seemed to live by rule in all things. There was a precision almost mechanical in his habits, his studies, his gait, which led one of his students humorously to speak of him as " a rectan- gular man." There are many still living by whom he can never be forgotten. Verv truly yours, C.C.PINCKNET, JR. FROM THE REV. SAMUEL OILMAN. D. D., CHARLESTON, S. 0. Jlev. and dear Sir : Mj' acquaintance with the late President Jasper Adams com- menced soon after his first arrival in Charleston. He was preceded by a reputation for scholarship of the highest distinction; and every succeeding year only added to the estimation he had already attained . He had a love for publication, and was 544 EPISCOPALIAN. constantly engaged in bringing before the world the matured productions of his pen. Desiring, myself, to make some farther advances in German literature, which I had somewhat cultivated, I found Mr. Adams to be in the same predica- ment, and we soon formed a plan of pursuing the task together. We resolved to read in company some standard German writer, and to devote to the object one hour of every day, which was as large a portion of time as either of us could spare from our other duties. In consideration of his multiplied avocations through the day, and his liabilities to interruption at night, we were compelled to fix upon the hour between five and six o'clock in the morning. Accordingly, as he lived in my neighbourhood, I visited his house every morning at that hour, summer and winter, for about two years. I always found him at his post, awaiting my arrival, with his fire glowing and his candle burning, in the short and gloomy winter mornings. The next hour, from six to seven, he was occupied in his President's room, at the Charleston College, preparing for his tasks with his pupils, and then returned home to his breakfast, while his less indomitable fellow-student was constrained to yield himself up, during the same hour, to his interrupted slumbers. I mention this to show the iron application and perse- vering habits of the man. I have no doubt that it was characteristic of his course throughout the whole period of his manhood. The author whom we selected for joint perusal was Eichorn, who was at that time in the height of his reputation, as a writer on biblical criticism and general literary history, and whose works, occupying some thirty or forty octavo volumes, I had recently imported. With all the ardour of youthful scholarship, we anticipated the accurate perusal of the entire series, to be followed by new and boundless fields of achievement in the same career. But long periods of indisposition or of absence from Charleston, on the part of the one or the other, and then of enforced removal of residences, dissipated these fond dreams, and we conquered comparatively but a few volumes of the learned Eichorn. The slenderness of this result was still further occasioned by the propensity of Mr. Adams to master every difBoulty, to verify every allusion, and to appreciate every idea and shade of meaning involved in the compositions of our author, — an infirmity in which his companion not a little sympathized and shared. For some time we mutually wondered, each at the patience of the other, for endu- ring so many interruptions in the progress of the common task. But on dis- covering ourselves both to be victims of the same stolid propensity * FROM THE REV. E. A. PARK, D. D.. PEOFESSOE IN THE ANDOVEE THEOLOGICAL SEMINAET. Andovee Theological Semikakt, i August 12, 1858. My dear Sir: Mr. De Quincey somewhere speaks of himself as deciphering in his manhood what he had felt in cipher when he was a child, and as interpreting in his mature life, the handwriting which he had often read in his earlier days. If it be true that a child's impressions concerning distinguished men are impor- tant for attaining a just idea of those men, it may not be useless for me to com- municate to you my views of Professor Jasper Adams; for, with regard to his inherent character, I can say nothing now which I could not have said, for substance, when I was thirteen years old. Then I had resided two years with him in my father's family, and then I knew him to be a teacher, a disciplina- rian, and a mathematician. His countenance was strongly marked by the stra- bismus, which gave to him an air of abstractedness, but which was in striking contrast to his innate abhorrence of all real or seeming duplicity. His person was erect; the muscles of his neck were not very flexile; and his bead appeared tc * This unfinished letter is, I understand, the last production of the lamented writer's pen. JASPER ADAMS. 645 be habitually inclined toward the astronomical investigations which then per- tained to his Professorship. His gestures were angular; when he walked across the room, or along the side-walk, he turned at right angles, if he turned at all; and all his movements seemed to form a " diagram," a " figure " of the Mathe- matical Propositions which I knew that he illustrated at the University. In sauntering through the garden where he took his daily exercise, and in noticing the vine-hills and the corn-hills, all in the form of squares, or parallelograms, I formed one of my most picturesque conceptions of mathematical discipline; and at this day I cannot form an image of my first mathematical teacher except as a precise, exact, particular, straight-forward man, willing to be slow but meaning to be sure. His life illustrates what can be done by resolute industry. His native talent was respectable but not extraordinary. Throughout his early life, he was called to rather minute calculations with regard to the means of procuring his few text- books and his midnight oil. While he was a student and a Tutor at College, his dress, though always neat and sometimes a little prim, was yet symbolical of a student pressing on per angusta ad augusta. But his stern will and inflex- ible perseverance overcame the obstacles which lay before him, and gave promise of even a higher eminence than he ultimately attained. In his class at College he moved forward, shoulder to shoulder, with President Wilbur Fisk; and in his class at the Andover Theological Seminary he retained an honourable position among such men as Dr. Orville Dewey, Dr. Jonas King, Professors Ripley, Tor- rey and Haddock, Presidents Wayland, Wheeler, and Worthington Smith. His official career at Providence, Charleston and West Point; his published Dis- courses, his "Elements of Moral Philosophy," afford satisfactory proof of his wide researches, and of his rare scholarship. Still the life of Dr. Adams illustrates what can not be done by even the most assiduous application. His untiring study did not give him a sprightly imagi- nation, or a brilliant genius, or any marked originality of mind. His style of writing was proper, neat, and sometimes elegant; it breathes the spirit of a pure-minded and a high-minded man; but it does not fascinate us with any splendour of imagery, and does not unveil before us any new recondite or pro- found analyses. He wrote slowly, carefully, and with great pains-taking; — "not a line but he knew quite well how it came there," — ^yet his persevering diligence never made him an electric preacher, more than a deep diving philosopher. Had he consulted his reputation alone, he would not have sacrificed his mathematical tastes to his ethical or mere literary investigations; for the structure of his mind fitted him to move along mathematical lines, and he would have gone farther on them than on any other. The life of President Adams also illustrates the changes to which an honest mind is liable amid the diversified influences of society. He was trained in his youth under the most rigid rules of Puritanism, as they are exemplified in the ministry and the writings of Samuel Niles, David Sanford and Nathaniel Emmons. His home was near the birth-place of such men as Alexander M. Fisher, Joel Hawes and Enoch Pond. Yet he became not only a firm Episco- palian, but an admirer and an advocate of the Oxford Tracts. Once peculiarly plain and Republican in his modes of thought and of action, simple in his pre- dilections, somewhat austere in his manners, he became at length not only cour- teous, but even courtly in his address; not only social but even genial among the scholars and statesmen of the sunny South, and he defended, in word and in deed, the " peculiar Southern Institution." Seemingly made for hard work, having the New England instinct for the self-denying toil to which his early life was inured, he yet, in his later years, indulged himself in literary leisure, and in mrld agricultural employment on a Southern plantation. He was an aspiring man, but single-hearted and guileless in all his efforts for excellence or for influ- 546 EPISCOPALIAN. ence. He was unbending in his adherence to what he deemed true or right. He knew more of books than 6f men; and more of the spirit of Jesus than of all things else. "Albeit not of the melting mood," he was a sincere disciple of the meek and lowly One. He retained until his death a dignity of character as of mien, which revives now a reverence for his memory, as it awakened once a respect for his person. Very truly, your friend, EDWARDS A. PARK. GEORGE McELHINEY, D. D.* 1820—1841. George McElhinet was the eldest child of William and Mary Anne McElhiney, and was born near Londonderry, Ireland, in the year 1799. His father was a farmer, in comfortable circumstances ; and both parents were members of the Episcopal Church. At the age of ten, he was taken to London by his uncle to be educated. Having remained there three years, he was sent to Prance to complete his education ; but, the school at which he was placed in Paris being dispersed by the arrival of Napoleon's army, his uncle brought him to the United States. On his arrival in this country, he was placed under the care of the Kev. E. D. Barry, then a teacher in Baltimore, afterwards settled as a clergyman in New Jersey. His education was designed to prepare him for mercantile life ; but, at the age of nineteen, his mind having, in the mean time, taken a decidedly serious direction, he relinquished the purpose of being a merchant, and resolved to become a minister of the Gospel. Accordingly, he commenced a course of theological study under the direction of the Eev. Dr. Wyatt of Baltimore, on whose ministry he had attended from the time of his arri- val in this country. Mr. McElhiney was ordained in St. Paul's Church, Baltimore, in the year 1820, by the late Bishop Kemp. He immediately commenced his labours in the parish of St. James, in Baltimore County, and continued there about six years. In December, 1825, he was married to Elizabeth Bond, a lady of his own parish. He resigned his charge in the latter part of the ensuing spring for a parish in Charles County. His wife died shortly after his settlement here, and he himself suffered from a severe attack of bilious fever, which, for a considerable time, incapacitated him for active labour. Shortly after this, he embarked for Europe, for the benefit of his health, and travelled through England and France. On his return home, he accepted an invitation to resume the charge of his first parish. Here he remained till September, 1829, when he removed to Prin- cess Anne, Somerset County, on the Eastern shore of Maryland. In December, 1830, he was married, a second time, to Jane D. Bell, of Prin- cess Anne. He remained there till October, 1834, when he took the Eeo- MS. from Mrs. McElhiney. GEORGE McELHINEY. g47 torship of St. Anne's Church at Annapolis, which he held at the time of his death. lor about eighteen months previous to his death, he had been employed in an agency, in behalf of the Convention, for obtaining funds for the sup- port of the Episcopate. He had secured upwards of fifty thousand dollars, and was still vigorously engaged in the work, when he was overtaken by his last illness. While in St. Mary's County, a violent congestive fever attacked him, which terminated his life in five days. He died May 2, 1841, in the forty-third year of his age; and his remains lie in the Epis- copal burying-place near Leonardstown. His Funeral Sermon was preached at Annapolis, by the Rev. Dr. Humphreys,* President of St. John's College. He received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Trinity College, Hartford, in 1840. He left a widow and two children, both by the second marriage. FKOM THE RET. HECTOR HUMPHREYS, D. D., PRESIDENT OF ST. JOHh's COLLEGE. St. John's College, ) AnnapoliS; Md., August 25, 1853. 5 Rev. and dear Sir: I am glad to hear that the Rev. George McElhiney, D. D., late Rector of St. Anne's Church in this city, will have a place in your forth- coming work. Many of his sermons ought to have been published, — they were so highly evangelical and practical. His life was in beautiful accordance with his doctrine; and no pastor ever had a firmer hold than he upon the affections of his people. He was a man of strong mind and inflexible purpose; and these lineaments were prominent in his countenance, which always reminded me of the portrait of Dr. Johnson, the great English Lexicographer. He was cut down in the middle of his course, while engaged in an important agency. He was in a remote county when the Master called for him, and we had no warning which could enable his friends to reach the spot. We keenly felt what Tacitus says of the death of Agricola — "Novissima in luce desideravere aliquid oculi tui." He cheerfully bore this, as he had done the many sacrifices of his whole walk in Christ; and of such are the names that will be had in everlasting remembrance. With the highest regard, I am. Rev. and dear Sir, sincerely yours, HECTOR HUMPHREYS. • Hectoe Homphbeys was born in Canton, Conn., June 8, 1797. He was fitted for College at Westfleld Academy, Mass., was entered at Yale in 1814, and graduated with the highest honours of his class in 1818. Though he had been educated a Congregationalist, he became convinced of the validity of the claims of the Episcopal Church and Ministry while he was in College. After his graduation, he studied Law in New Haven, but subsequently turned his attention to Theo'ogy, and in 1824 was admitted by Bishop Erownell to the Order of Deacons, and in 1825, by the same Bishop, to the Order of Priests. Soon after his ordination as Dea- con, he was chosen, first, Tutor, and after a few months, Professor of the Ancient Languages, in Washington College, then lately established at Hartford, and held this place until 1831, dur- ing which time he also had charge of St. Luke's Church, South Glastonbury. In 1831, he was called to the Presidency of St. John's College, Annapolis, Md., where he spent the remainder of his days. He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Trinity College, in 18.33. He died at Annapolis on the 25th of January, 1857. He was a highly accomplished scholar, and an able and effective preacher, though in his later years his ill health kept him out of the pulpit. He published his Inaugural Address as President of the College, and one or two occasional Discourses. 648 EPISCOPALIAN. FROM THE REV. WILLIAM PINKNEY, D. D., Eeotoe or ST. Matthew's and st. mark's, primce geoege's county, md. Bladensbueg, Md., October 12,1863. My dear Sir: In compliance with your request, and not without a painful dis- trust of my ability to do any thing like justice to a theme so replete with moral and intellectual beauty, I will give you my personal recollections of the late George McElhiney, D. D., — a Presbyter of the Diocese of Maryland, and my impressions of his character. The first time I saw him was at my own exami- nation for Orders. From that period to the day of his death, I was honoured with his warm personal friendship — I say honoured, because the disparity in our years, and his high standing in the councils of the Church, would not have war- ranted the intimacy which subsisted between us. Through his influence I was called to succeed him in the interesting charge in Somerset County, where he had laboured with such self-denying zeal and distinguished success. I corres- ponded with him regularly to the day of his death. So that I testify of what I know, and bear witness of wliat I have both seen and felt. Dr. McElhiney was a man of rather remarkable personal appearance. He was not above the medium height, but possessed a physical frame of uncommon vigour. His face was strongly marked, rather stern in its general expression, but at times illuminated with a smile of singular sweetness. His eyes were blue, and his head admirably shaped, the only model a phrenologist would have desired for his illustration of high intellectuality and firmness of will. Energy rather than grace was the type of the physical man. His face was the looking- glass of the soul, and the transparency of the mirror was never obscured. His manners were frank and open. Naturally diffident, he was nevertheless sufficiently self-possessed to be quite at ease in company. He loved to mingle in the society of his friends, and, from the extent and variety of his acquire- ments, the salient vigour of his intellect, and genial sunshine of his disposition, he was always a welcome and agreeable companion. I never knew a man of more evenness of temper. Cheerfulness was with him a Christian duty. He strove to make every one satisfied and happy who came within the range of his influence. True it is there was at times a straight-forward honest bluntness in his manner, which was rather displeasing to strangers. But it was the impres- sion of a moment, for the abruptness soon disappeared, and you were charmed with the ingenuousness and frankness of the refined Christian gentleman. He could not bear seeming — he detested hypocrisy, and like most men who dread the appearing to be what they are not, he appeared sometimes to disadvantage. He was particularly fond of intelligent society, and no man was more competent to mingle in it, and leave his impress upon it. At home upon all subjects, he possessed a natural fluency in conversation which enabled him, from the rich stores of his disciplined mind, to bring out, when he willed, things new and old, to interest and instruct others. His mental and moral character were remarkably developed. Strength and beauty were happily combined in the former, and high-toned integrity and love of truth in the latter. He was quick in his perceptions and deliberate in his judgment. With a memory singularly retentive he united a keen power of logi- cal precision, and a beautiful appreciation of all that was elegant in taste and rich in imagination. I should say that strength was the predominating intellec- tual faculty. Cogent in argument, he saw at a glance through the most subtle sophistry, and threaded the perplexing labyrinths with ease. His love of truth and high-toned manliness of soul were in exquisite keepim* with his mind. To see him once was to see him always. Those who knew him well, knew always where to find him. Consistent in himself, he loved consis- GEOEGE MoELHINET. 549 tency in others, and respected honest differences of opinion, though he never sought to coalesce things in themselves incongruous and incapahle of union without a gross compromise of principle. In all my correspondence with him, I do not remember a line that I did not approve of, con amore, so far as the moral tone was concerned. Love and truth were the sparkling lights that shone all through and through it. This is saying a great deal; for our correspondence was of tlie most unreserved character, carried on, too, at a time when there was much to excite and arouse the most gentle and loving spirit. He was singularly free from selfish ends and aims. Qualified to fill the highest position in the Church, and eminently fitted for the most extensive sphere of usefulness, he was contented to toil on in the most quiet and retired path. He never troubled him- self about results — they belong properly to God, and with God he ever delighted to leave them. I have known him to be disappointed in the sanguine expecta- tions of his friends, who believed him to be suited to another sphere than the one he occupied, but I never saw him ruffled or discomposed by the result. Fail- ures which depressed others, excited and stimulated him. He was hereby roused to greater exertion. And it was no marvel that it was so, for he was satisfied, and only reluctantly yielded to the suggestions of his friends, who, on more than one occasion, laboured to secure for the Church his services in a field worthy of his rare endowments. Humility was the ornament of his private and public life. His character, as a preacher, may be quickly told. He always used manu- script. His enunciation was beautifully distinct and clear. He practised more successfully than any one I have heard the noble rule of giving utterance to the vowels, and leaving the consonants to take care of themselves. He was not less accurate in orthoepy. His manner was nervous and energetic, ftill of sin- cerity and earnestness. He was neither rapid nor slow. He used but little action, but the little he used was natural and unstudied, forcible and impressive. His great fear of being artificial or affected impaired to some extent his powers of oratory. His voice was strong and clear, capable of a good deal of richness of modulation, although somewhat wanting in tenderness. Had his tones but faithfully echoed the deep yearning sympathy of his heart, he would have been truly eloquent. His matter was admirable. His uncommon command of lan- guage, his rich vein of thought, his deep, practical, earnest piety, his profound theological attainments, his strong statement of his subject and close textual adherence to the theme discussed, all conspired to make him a powerful sermon- izer. He did not divide his subject in the formal way, common with many of his day. His divisions were gradually developed in successive stages, and that gave a freshness and beauty to his discourses, that were pleasing in the extreme. He was a rapid writer, generally throwing off at a single sitting the whole ser- mon or lecture. I have known him to write two sermons from Friday evening to Saturday night. He suffered nothing to interfere with his habits of pre- paration for the pulpit, and therefore he never failed to impart instruction and delight. I do not hesitate to assign to him all the quahties of a first rate pulpit teacher, taking into consideration the power to combine pleasure with instruc- tion, beauty with strength, weight of matter with clear perspicuous language as the vehicle of its transmission. His character, as a pastor, presents a noble field for observation and com- ment. Dignified and grave in all his deportment, he diffused into his holy calling the breathings of an earnest, laborious, self-denying spirit. He loved the people of his charge, and sought to do them good. Calm and deliberate in judgment, he was competent to guide them in difficulty, and, full of sympathy, he was as prompt as he was competent. Labouring in season and out of season, he was scrupulouslj'^ exact in his fulfilment of all his engagements, and no man could have exceeded him in strict punctuality. Nothing was permitted to inter- Voi.. V. 82 ggO EPISCOPALIAN. fere with his official duties. Neither company, nor the charms of his studio, in which his soul seemed to revel, could divert his mind from the calls of distress or the offices of love. His heart was in his work, and his work above every- thing beside. There was a powerful moral influence in this beautiful punctuality and whole-souled devotion to the calling of his life and choice. The rich and the poor shared equally in his tender regard and soothing sympathy. And never have I witnessed a more noble specimen of the true-hearted, dignified and earnest man of God, than when I have seen him by the bedside of the poor disciple, and beneath the lowly roof that sheltered him. So soft and touching was his manner, so earnest and glowing the spirit that burned within him, as he pointed Heavenward the meek-hearted saint, and set forth the soothing influences of the Cross in the midst of life's perplexities and cares, that it seemed to be a foretaste of Heaven for him to go forth, as God's ambassador, to the hovels of wretched- ness and want. A splendid casuist, deeply versed in the spirit and doctrines of the Word of God, and singularly clear in his views of truth, he was able, at a moment's warning, to give, with the tongue of a ready speaker, sage counsel to guide, and words of power to comfort. For, strange to say, he who on the floor in debate was confused and embarrassed, in conversation by the side of the sick and afflicted, was fluent and copious in the outgush of soul and the sugges- tions of comfort. Dr. McElhiney was a most valuable member of the Councils of the Church — not as a debater, for he seldom, if ever, spoke; but as a man, wise in judgment, firm in purpose, cautious in spirit and conservative in principle. His influence was felt where his voice was not heard nor his presence seen. It was the influ- ence of settled, established character and habitual prudence, the influence of moral honesty and manly straight-forward independence of thought and action. He was a member of the Standing Committee of the Diocese for years; and I do no disparagement to either of his able and accomplished compeers, when I say that no one displayed, during the critical and excited period of his public service, a more enlarged wisdom, or exerted a more healthful and conservative influence. I have thus traced the character of my friend, as I read and understood it. I knew him intimately, and I have never known a more honest man. His mem- ory is still cherished by many; and if you desire to test the soundness of my estimate of his moral and intellectual worth, you have only to go to those who were his contemporaries, or look into the history of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Maryland, while he participated largely in her councils, and served at her altars, and you will find that sweet indeed is the recollection, and savoury indeed is the fragrance, of the holy active life he led. For varied and exact knowledge, admirably disciplined mind, the heart to feel for another's woes, and the heart " to grapple, as with hooks of steel," those it loves, fidelity to his holy calling and the bright gifts to adorn it, he had but few equals in his day, and no superior that I know of. Qmescat pace — His works survive him. Very truly yours, WILLIAM PINKNEY. WILLIAM JACKSON. 651 WILLIAM JACKSON * 1820—1844. William Jackson was born at Tutbury, in the County of Stafford, England, on the 30th of January, 1793. His parents were persons of great worth and devoted piety, and they were often visited by clergymen of distinction, among whom was the celebrated Legh Richmond. But scarcely any influence seems to have operated so powerfully in the forma- tion of his character as that of his own beloved pastor, the Rev. G. W. Hutchinson, — a grandson of the last Colonial Grovernor of Massachusetts. For the memory of this excellent clergyman he always cherished a truly reverential and affectionate regard ; and he was accustomed to say that, next to the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls, he was the model whom he desired to follow. At an early period he became deeply impressed with a sense of his guilt and danger, and most of his reading was of a very serious character. He was particularly fond of reading the Pilgrim's Progress ; and before he was twelve years old, he had read it through seven times. But, notwithstand- ing these promising developments of his early youth, as well as the good instructions and vigilant care of his parents, he came under the influence of evil associates, and at the age of fifteen, he was, to use his own expres- sion, " a rank Deist." During this fearful period in his history, however, his outward life was uniformly correct, and there was no approach to pro- faneness, or sensuality, or any other vice ; but, at the same time, he after- wards said that he " was ripe for any sin." But even then he was ill at ease; his scepticism would not bear the test of solitude ; but it often, in his lonely hours, recoiled upon him like the shadow of death. About this time Providence placed in his way a copy of " Jenkins on the Truth and Certainty of the Christian Religion;" and that book was instrumental of breaking up his infidel dreams, and bringing him to repose in his former convictions of the Divine authority of the Scriptures. But, notwithstanding he had recovered his speculative belief in Chris- tianity, he was still in deep darkness, from the conviction that he had no interest in its gracious promises ; and it was not till he had undergone many severe struggles, and passed many days of darkness, that he reached the point at which he felt that he could consistently declare himself on the Lord's side. And even after this, he was not a little harassed with doubts, not only in regard to his true character, but especially on the question whether he should devote himself to the Christian ministry. His attention had first been directed to this subject as early as 1807, by Legh Richmond, who was then on a visit to his father's ; and though he was much disposed to heed the suggestion, and ever after kept it fresh in his thoughts, yet he imagined that there were obstacles in his way, which it would be difficult, if not impossible, to surmount. After he had made considerable progress in his studies, he became impressed with the conviction that he was too * Memoir prefixed to bis Sermons. 652 EPISCOPALIAN. young to judge correctly on so important a subject, and that his desires to enter the ministry were prompted by improper motives. In this state of mind he resolved to relinquish his studies, and wrote to Mr. Hutchinson, informing him, for the first time, of the hopes he had cherished, in connec- tion with the obstacles to their accomplishment, and his determination to take no farther steps in that direction. But his worthy and faithful pastor urged him to persevere, and encouraged him to expect that his way would ere long be made plain. Other ministers also gave him similar advice ; but all did not relieve him from his perplexity. As a sort of last resort, he wrote to his mother, in whose wisdom as well as affection he had the utmost confidence, stating to her frankly all his diificulties, and evidently intending to repose in her judgment, whatever it might be. For some rea- son or other, — probably from being doubtful what to say, or unwilling to assume responsibility, — she did not answer his letter ; and he seems to have considered this as a providential intimation that he ought not to proceed ; and he made up his mind to act accordingly. But still he was far from being satisfied with this decision. He could not resist the conviction, or at least the apprehension, that Grod's claims were upon him for service in the ministry of reconciliation ; and this deprived him of all enjoyment. But, after having thus passed several months,' his prospects began to brighten, and in his diary for August 10, 1815, he makes the following record : — " This Dight, after attending the monthly meeting to hear the missionary accounts, and feeling my heart warmed by them with missionary zeal, I found courage to com- municate to my dear mother, for the first time personally, my intentions. 1 thank my God, she received it apparently very well, and only expressed that reluctance which a tender mother naturally would feel in the prospect of separating forever, in this world, from her child. The way opens, anJ the view brightens; may my zeal increase, and may I be made daily more fit for the work by a continually deepening heart knowledge of the truth I would communicate." But the great question with him was not even yet decided — his mind still continued to vibrate between strong hope and deep discouragement ; and it was not till the year 1817 that he could see that Providence had opened before him a clear path. In the spring of that year, an elder brother, who had been on a visit to England, returned to America, and Mr. Jackson was induced to ajccompany him. After his arrival here, the cloud which had so long hung over him passed away. In view of the wide field of use- fulness which here opened before him, and the comparatively small number ofi labourers by whom it was occupied, he could not resist the conviction that the Providence of Grod called him to carry out his hitherto half-formed purpose, and to cast in his lot with the ministry on this side th« Atlantic. Accordingly, in the autumn of 1818, he entered on his studies under the direction of the Rev. Mr. Henshaw, who had just been called to the Rec- torship of St. Peter's Church, Baltimore. On the 14th of May, 1820, he was admitted to Deacon's Orders by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Moore of Virginia, in St. Paul's Church, Alexandria, D. C. Soon after his ordination, he was called to the Rectorship of St. George's Parish, Havre de Grace, Md. Here he laboured about two years ; and, during this period, was permitted to witness a very considerable advance- ment of the religious interests of the parish. In 1822, he was ordained WILLIAM JACKSON. 653 Priest, and about the same time was invited to the Rectorship of St. Paul's Church, Chestertown, on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. In accepting this invitation, he consented to become the successor of several ministers of acknowledged ability and eminent usefulness ; but his sound and vigo- rous mind, his earnest piety, Ms untiring devotion to his work, and his uncommonly felicitous and attractive style of preaching, soon rendered him a general favourite with all classes, and secured to him an influence not inferior to that of the most distinguished of his predecessors. His ministry here was attended with great comfort to himself, and with a rich blessing to his people. He also became very generally known and highly respected throughout the Diocese, and was more than once elected a member of the Standing Committee. Early in the year 1827, he was called to the Rectorship of St. Paul's Church, Alexandria, D. C, as successor to the Rev. Dr. Wilmer, who had been removed to the Presidency of William and Mary College. Here also the manifest presence of the Holy Spirit soon followed in the train of his labours. In May, 1831, while he was attending the Convention at Nor- folk, an unusual religious interest commenced in his congregation, which extended also to Christ Church, and very soon grew into a quiet but pow- erful revival. The result of this was that, in July following, after some extra services conducted by the late Dr. Bedell, and Mr. (afterwards Bishop) Henshaw, about ninety in the two churches were admitted to the rite of Confirmation. During his residence in Alexandria, Mr. Jackson exerted an important influence in aid of the various benevolent institutions of the Church, though his energies were more particularly enlisted in behalf of the Society for the Education of Pious Young Men for the Ministry, and the Theological Seminary of Virginia. In both these institutions he felt an interest that not only prompted him for the time to the most vigorous efi'orts, but never grew less to the last hour of his life. In the spring of 1832, he was called to the Rectorship of St. Stephen's Church, New York; and, though he declined the first call, yet when it was repeated, — seconded by the opinion and wishes of many excellent minis- ters, whose judgment he felt bound to respect, he was constrained to regard it as a call of Providence and to treat it accordingly. He, therefore, removed to New York, though the separation between him and his people was an occasion of deep mutual regret. The Church in New York, of which he now took charge, had, owing to a concurrence of adverse circumstances, fallen into a state of great depres- giQn — t]ie congregation had become divided and scattered ; the Sabbath School broken up ; and the spirit of Christian activity well nigh extin- guished ; so that his work there seemed almost like beginning and carrying forward a new enterprise. But here, as in the places where he had pre- viously laboured, he was eminently successful ; so that when he made his final remove to the West, five years afterwards, he left behind him a large, united, and every way flourishing congregation. In 1836, he made a short visit to his friends in England, which seems to have been a source of great enjoyment to him. Shortly after his return, in 1837, he contracted a severe cold, and while suffering from the effect of 654 EPISCOPALIAN. it, indulged in repeated efforts in public speaking, and thereby brought on an affection of the throat which threatened the most serious consequences. Being now invited to take charge of a church in Louisville, Ky., his best friends, much as they valued his services, felt that they had no right to interpose any obstacle to his acceptance of 4he invitation, believing, as they did, that the change of climate would be favourable to his health, and might possibly be the means of lengthening out his life. It was deemed important that he should cease from preaching altogether, after relinquish- ing his charge in New York, until he should enter upon that in Louisville ; but his zeal got the better of his prudence, and he preached one sermon at least in each place where he stopped to visit his friends. The consequence was that, when he reached Ohio, his voice had so entirely failed him that he was unable to speak above a whisper. He regarded this as a dark shadow falling upon his path, and perhaps as ominous of the approaching end of his labours ; but his heart was fixed, trusting in the Lord, and he feared not what the future might have in store for him. In writing to his friends in New York, he had alluded to his somewhat darkened prospects, and by the time he reached Louisville, no less than three different propo- sals had come to him from those authorized to make them, to fill important posts of usefulness, which would give entire rest to his voice. He was not a little affected by this instance of the Divine goodness, as well as the gene- rous consideration of his friends ; but as he had been entirely conscientious in going to the West, and had done it at a great sacrifice of feeling, he could not consent to be diverted from the immediate object which had car- ried him thither, by any thing short of imperious necessity. Shortly after his removal to Louisville, and chiefly through his instru- mentality, the erection of the noble edifice of St. Paul's, which had been commenced, and then abandoned on account of the financial distress of the country, was resumed and carried successfully forward to its completion. It is a noble specimen of church architecture, creditable alike to the enter- prising spirit of the congregation, and the wisdom and efficiency of the Hector. Mr. Jackson's labours, while in Louisville, as during every preceding part of his ministry, were at once highly acceptable and useful. He, in turn, became very strongly attached to the people of his charge, and it was his earnest desire that nothing but death might effect a separation between them. He was strongly urged to be a candidate for the Episcopate of Indiana ; but he refused to listen to the proposal, and said more than once that rather than be called to occupy the place of a Western Bishop, he would pray that he might be taken to his Master's more immediate ser- vice in Heaven. That event proved to be nearer probably than either himself or his friends had anticipated. During a visit to Cincinnati, in November, 1843, whither he had gone to attend the first semi-annual meeting of the American Bible Society, and, by request of the Board in New York, to deliver an Address on the occa- sion, he contracted a severe cold from which he never recovered. He, however, continued his labours during the greater part of the winter, though not without much difilculty from the affection of his throat, and the conse- quent feebleness of his voice. WILLIAM JACKSON. 655 On the evening of Thursday, February 15, 1844, the day preceding that on which he was attacked by the illness which had a fatal termination, he was on a social visit to one of his parishioners, when the conversation hap- pened to turn on the superstitious notion that Friday is an unlucky day. " I have always been surprised," said he, "that superstition should have selected that day as unlucky. To me it is the best day of the week, next to the Lord's day. I always think of it as Good Friday, — the day on which the greatest good was accomplished for our sin-ruined world. If I regarded days in this way at all, I would sooner select than avoid Friday for under- taking any great work." It was a somewhat remarkable coincidence that the next day (Friday) the mortal malady seized him, and the Friday following accomplished its work. During the whole intervening period, he was speechless, though not entirely insensible. The greatest anxiety for his recovery was manifested throughout the whole surrounding community; and on Sunday prayers were offered up for his recovery, and affectionate allusions to his illness made in their Sermons, by ministers of the Episcopal, Presbyterian, Metho- dist, and Roman Catholic Churches in the city in which he resided. He died just at the dawn of day on the 23d of November, 1844, in the fifty- second year of his age. Mr. Jackson was married, not far from the time of his ordination, to Margaret A. Byron, whose mother was an English lady, and resided at that time in the city of New York. They had no children. Mrs. Jackson still (1858) survives, and resides in England. FROM THE RT. REV. B. B. SMITH, D. D., Kalorama, near Louisville, Ky., ) February 24, 1857. J My dear Sir : I met the Kev. William Jackson, for the first time, in Baltimore, in the fall of 1818, at the house of the Rev. Dr., afterwards Bishop, Henshaw; just abandoning, at a mature age, the walks of business life, to enter upon the higher sphere which he adorned so well. Except in compactness, and in a shade perhaps of gravity and of measured movement, his personal appearance never varied much from that by which I was then so favourably impressed. He was somewhat under the medium height, rather than above it, decidedly compact and broad-shouldered, with a massiveness of features which at once pronounced him the sturdy Englishman that he was; and the impression of firmness of prin- ciple and determination of will, which it raised, might, perhaps, at first, have been somewhat repulsive, had it not been for the benignant eye, and beaming smile, which at once assured you that all the elements of his character were sweetly tempered by a gentleness and kindness of heart, wliich brought his whole life into most beautiful harmony with the spirit of the Gospel which he preached, and of the dear Saviour whom he so lovingly served. Of all the clergymen whom I have intimately known, he best contrived, by incredible labour, and by admirable methods, to supply those manifold deficien- cies which result from the want of early classical training; and the lack of which he never Ceased deeply to deplore. His books of reference, his record of topics and of texts, his repository of illustrative excerpts, were more extensive and perfect, and far better arranged, than those contained in any of the books. And the result was that his pulpit was more various and more instructive than is often the case with much more original minds; who, drawing exclusively from their own resources, and exhibiting those resources in their own peculiar way. 656 EPISCOPALIAN. and under the narrow limits of a. single genius, are much more apt to weary than to edify their hearers. Enlarged views of the pure Gospel, and still larger personal experience and observation, in all the exercises of the Divine life, sus- tained by aids like these, rendered him, everywhere, a favourite preacher; and, in the estimation of his own people, an instructer to be preferred above all. Very truly yours, B. B. SMITH. FROM THE REV. THOMAS C. PITKIN, D. D. Albany, May 15, 1858. My dear Sir: On the first or second Sunday after my arrival in New York, as a student of Theology in the fall of 1836, Mr. Francis Vinton, the present popu- lar minister of Trinity Church, called at my room and said that I must certainly attend St. Stephen's Church with him, and hear the Farewell Sermon of the most popular preacher in the city. This was my first personal knowledge of the Rev. William Jackson. I remeinber well the impression that he left upon me. I did not think him eloquent; but I thought that I saw something better than the finest oratory. His appearance, and his manner, and his sermon, were entirely different from what I had expected. I seemed to see a man who entered into the whole truth of his position; and, as he rose up in his pulpit, and took the words of the Pro- phet Samuel as his own, — "Behold here I am; witness against me before the Lord and against his anointed; whose ox have I taken; or whose ass have I taken; or whom have I defrauded; whom have I oppressed; or of whom have I received any bribe to blind mine eyes therewith ? and I will restore it to you," — and sustained himself throughout in the same high tone which blended into one. Christian humility and the manliness of conscious rectitude, I gained a new impression of the powers of the Christian ministry. He was then leaving St. Stephen's for his new, and, as it proved, his final, home in Louisville, K}'. Four years from that time I was settled in the same city with him, where we exercised our separate ministries in perfect harmony until his death. And I can truly say that the impression that he first made upon my mind was not effaced, but rather deepened, by our future intercourse. He was reputed a Low Churchman, and belonged decidedly to what is tech- nically called the Evangelical School of Theology; but practically he had very high views of the work and the oflBce of tlie Christian Priesthood, (though he would perhaps have scrupled at the name,) and in conducting the Church Ser- vice, he impressed on others his own sense of its dignity, and strength, and beauty. He held his convictions very strongly, and there was occasionally something in his manner, which gave him the appearance of severity; but he was withal genial, and tolerant of a great deal that did not accord with his own views of Christian doctrine, where there was apparent honesty of purpose. I remember, on one occasion, he had objected to a sermon preached by a young man of whom he had not a very favourable impression, and I replied by reminding him of precisely the same view presented lately in our hearing by a Bishop whom he very highly esteemed. " Well," said he, laughing, " the man makes all the difference in the world. I say many things myself in the pulpit, which I should think very suspicious if said by certain persons," and then he immediately added, seriously, — " because I qualify the statements, and more- over my well known views of Christian doctrine and Church polity prevent all mistakes." His preaching was direct and practical, always interesting, and fre- quently rising to great power. He delighted in expositions of Scripture. He was a good extemporaneous speaker, and was always ready, not only in the pul- pit, but on any occasion of public interest. "WILLIAM JACKSON. 657 He was very strict in many of his views of Christian duty, and resolute in practically maintaining them. At the close of the first quarter of his ministry m St. Stephen's Church, New York, the Senior Warden, with a promptness which characterized the parish, gave him a check for his salary in the Vestry room before service on Sunday morning: Mr. Jackson refused it, not only with great dignity, but with an air that implied a censure on its being offered on Sun- day; and the circumstance led to a temporary coolness between them. This, however, passed away, when they came to understand each other's distinctive characteristics and excellences. I have great pleasure in thus recording my impressions of a man whom I shall never cease to hold in affectionate remembrance, and who is well entitled, by his substantial worth, and his good use of the talents given him, to a high place among the Clergy of the Protestant Episcopal Church. Tours very truly, THOMAS C. PITKIN. FROM THE REV. EDWARD P. HUMPHREY, D. D. PROFESSOK IN THE DANVILLE (PKKSBYTEKIAn) THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY. Danville, Ky., February 22, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir : My personal acquaintance with Mr. Jackson commenced Soon after he assumed the Rectorship of Christ Church in Louisville, in 1837, and continued until his death, in 1844. My intercourse with him matured rather slowly, for the reasons that he was, by many years, my senior in age; we were, also, in the service of different branches of the Church; and the professional labours of both were so exacting as to limit us very much to our respective spheres. But this distance gradually diminished under the attractions of his manly virtues and Christian graces; so that I am able to write these lines from an intimate knowledge of his character and course of life. In person, he was of ordinary stature, and wore the appearance of robust health. His hair was short, thin and graj'; his countenance placid; his step firm, his air prepossessing and gentlemanlike; his temperament calm and uniform. In his intellectual character, a certain vigorous common-sense was the pre- dominant quality. He was not brilliant, perhaps, or profound, or keenly dia- lectic, so much as accurate and judicious in the processes of the understanding; and not unfrequently thorough also and forcible therein. Among his favourite authors were Cecil and Legh Richmond. He had something in common with both of these excellent men. His conversation and sermons exhibited the epi- grammatic point of Cecil, and his exemplar3'^ and useful life, and his thorough evangelical spirit, reminds us of the career of Richmond. The particular communion to which he belonged has reason to cherish a grateful remembrance of his labours in Louisville. During his ministry there, of about seven years, he formed a new Episcopal congregation, and secured the erection of a fine house of worship. He became the Rector of the new parish,, leaving behind him a vigorous congregation in Christ Church; and accomplish- ing the whole work — confessedly one of the most difficult and delicate under- takings of the pastor — in such manner as to preserve harmony and good feeling- among all the parties to the movement. The success of this labour is the high- est tribute to his good sense, piety, and discreet and sober zeal. His private life was wholly blameless; and, in his intercourse with the world, he mingled, with singular skill, the dignity of his vocation with the amenity and cheerfulness of the Christian gentleman. He never challenged, and never failed to win, the respect due to his exalted worth. It was understood that he enjoyed an eminent standing among the Clergy of his own communion, and that he was generally regarded by his brethren as a. prominent candidate for the Episcopate. To the affectionate respect in which. Vol V. 83 658 EPISCOPALIAN. he was held by the ministers of other persuasions^ for his piety, soundness in the faith, devotion to his work, exemplary and godly life, I bear the most ample and willing testimony. His sudden death was lamented by the people of God of all denominations in the city, not less sincerely than by those whom he served in the Gospel. And to this day his memory is fragrant and honoured among them all. Very truly yours, EDWARD P. HUMPHREY. STEPHEN WILSON PRESSTMAN. 1822—1843. FROM THE REV. J. C. CLAY, D. D. Philadelphia, November 10, 1857. My dear Sir : I take pleasure in furnishing you with some brief notices and recollections of the late Eev. Mr. Presstman of Newcastle, and I do it with the greater readiness and confidence, because, during most of the time that he resided there, -there was a personal intimacy between him and myself, which gave me frequent opp.ortunities of seeing him, and observing his many admirable qualities. Stephen Wilson Puesstman, the son of William and Ann Ferguson (Cattell) Presstman, was born in Charleston, S. C, on the 1st of October, 1794. On the father's side, he was of Irish descent ; on the mother's side, of English ; and both parents were connected with the Episcopal Church. His mother's father, Major Ben Cattell, was an officer in the Revolutionary army, and at an early period was taken prisoner of war, and in consequence of his confinement in a damp room, fell into a consumption which very soon terminated his life. He was greatly esteemed for the zeal and liberality which he evinced in the cause of his country. His widow, after the war was over, was married to General Mordecai Gist, a distin- guished ofiicer of the Maryland line. Mr. William Presstman was a native of Baltimore, but removed early to Charleston, where he was engaged in extensive mercantile business for many years. He, however, retired from business, and returned to Balti- more, about the year 1808 ; and there his son, Stephen Wilson, received the greater part of his education, at an excellent school, taught by a Mr. Brown. He had entered a counting room but a short time before the war of 1812 was declared ; when, evincing an ardent desire to enter the ser- vice, he obtained, through the friendly ofiices of General Smith of Mary- land, a Lieutenant's Commission in the army of the United States. On reaching the Canada lines, he took a conspicuous part in several engage- ments. Among others, (mentioned in Niles' Register,) he was selected by General Smyth to take charge of the land force sent to aid Commodore Elliott in his expedition at Sackett's Harbour, in capturing the British war vessels, Detroit and Caledonia. This was regarded as a very successful and brilliant action, especially as being among the first of a series of naval successes on the Lakes. He was afterwards highly distinguished in the • battle of Lyon's Creek, where he acted as Brigade Major. Such was the STEPHEN -WILSON PRESSTMAN. 659 good opinion entertained by the War Department of his military qualifica- tions, that, after the Declaration of Peace, he was still retained. as an officer in the army. But his inclinations were leading hitn in a direction in which he felt it to be his duty to engage in a higher warfare, and to devote all his energies to subduing the enemies of Christ, and extending his Kingdom among men. He did not often speak of the scenes through which he had passed, when engaged in active duty as a soldier. But I have been told, on good authority, that, in a conversation which he had with the late Chief Justice Booth, who was one of his Vestry, and a personal friend, he mentioned that his mind was first awakened to the importance of religion, when, as an Aid to the Officer in command, he was led to think of the uncertainty of life, in finding his horse leaping over the bodies of some who had been slain in battle. The impressions, thus produced, were, under the influences of the Holy Spirit, cherished by him, until he became a decided and earnest Christian. After the War terminated, he resigned his commission, and was, for some two or three years, engaged in business in Baltimore. He, however, on mature reflection, became convinced that it was his duty to enter the ministry; and, accordingly, he withdrew from secular engage- ments, and entered upon a course of study preparatory to the sacred office, under the direction of the Rev. Mr. Dashiell of Baltimore. Mr. Presstman was ordained Deacon by Bishop Moore, of Virginia, on the 11 th of July, 1822, and Priest by the same Bishop on the 15th of June, 1823. Soon after his ordination as Deacon, he accepted a call to the Church at Dumfries, in the same State. Here he remained until 1823, when, upon the death of the Rev. Robert Clay, who had been, for many years. Rector of Immanuel Church, Newcastle, De., he was called to that old and interesting parish, where he laboured with much faithfulness, and great acceptableness to the congregation, till the time of his death, which took place in the year 1843, in the forty-ninth year of his age. Most persons in this region remember the sensation that was produced in the public mind by the burning, about the year 1884, of the steamer William Penn, one of the Baltimore line of boats, running on the River Delaware, and of the loss of life thereby occasioned to some of the passen- gers. Mr. Presstman was on board at the time, on his way to Philadel- phia, and narrowly escaped with his life. Mr. Presstman was married to Ann Brundige, of Dumfries, Va., on the 3d of November, 1822. By this marriage he had five children. Mrs. P. died in 1834 ; and in October, 1836, about two years after her death, he was married again to Sarah Booth, of Philadelphia, a lady of great excel- lence of character, and who, in all that pertains to the relation of a cler- gyman's wife, proved a " help meet " for him. He had no children by his second marriage. Mr. Presstman occupied a most respectable position as a ckrgyman. He had a clear and vigorous mind, and his sermons were always listened to with interest and profit by the highly intelligent congregation to whom they were addressed. And while he commanded the respect of his congregation by his pulpit performances, he won their esteem and love in his every day intercourse with them, by his afi"able and agreeable manners, his pleasant 660 EPISCOPALIAN. and instructive conversation, and his uniformly consistent deportment. They could not but feel that in him were delightfully blended the Gentle- man, the Christian, and the Faithful Minister of the G-ospel. He was a man who cared little for popular applause. His temperament led him rather to avoid than to court observation. His desire manifestly was npt so much to be prominent, as to be useful, in the Church. Yet the respect and esteem in which he was held ior his excellent qualities, both of head and of heart, led to his being often appointed to places of honour and responsibility. He was, for many years, President of the Standing Com- mittee of the Diocese of Delaware. Of the General Convention of the Church, composed in its triennial sessions of four clerical, and four lay, delegates from each Diocese, he was uniformly elected a member ; and on one occasion was appointed by the President of the Convention to the honourable and difficult position of Chairman of the Committee on Canons, — a position which he filled with credit to himself, and entire satisfaction to the Convention. Among the most cherished incidents of Mr. Presstman's life was the fact that several officers, with whom he had served in the army, became communicants of the Church under his ministry. The illness which terminated the life of this excellent man was of short duration, — only about two weeks ; and affecting, as it did, his brain, and producing delirium, there was little opportunity of conversation with him in regard to his feelings and hopes in the near view of eternity. In his lucid intervals, however, his thoughts were of God, and the interests of his flock. The approach of death gave him no alarm ; and all who witnessed it felt, and all felt who had known how beautifully religion had been exem- plified in his life, that he slept in Jesus, to awake at the last to a joyful resurrection. With great regard, I remain truly yours, J. C. CLAY. FROM THE KT. KEV. ALFRED LEE, D. D., BISHOP or THE DIOCESE OP DELAWARE. Wilmington, De., Jan. 20, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir: My acquaintance with my highly esteemed and lamented friend, the Rev. Stephen W. Presstman, embraced only the last two years of his life. On account of its brief continuance, it is not therefore in my power to con- tribute much in the way of personal recollections to your biographical sketch. When I first met Mr. Presstman, in 1841, his appearance was that of robust health, and gave promise of a long life. It is probable, however, that his consti- tution had suffered from exposure incident to his service in the army during the war of 1812, and was already giving way to an extent which his friends by no means suspected. He was in person about the middle stature, and during his later years inclined to corpulency. His complexion was dark, and his style of countenance massive and strong. The expression of his face was grave and seri- ous; to a stranger, at first glance, it might have seemed austere, but benignity and kindliness might be soon read there, upon closer observation. It required, however, an intimate acquaintance to appreciate the innate wit and genial humour which belonged to his character. In manner he was always courteous STEPHEN WILSON PRESSTMAN. QQl and gentlemanly — among his particular friends, very companionable and agree- able; and in the domestic circle, extremely affectionate. Mr. Presstman must have appeared a very different man in early and in later life. The daring soldier, the volunteer for posts of peril, had become emi- nently a man of peace; exceedingly averse to controversy or collision. To those unacquainted with his history, and ignorant of his firmness and resolution, his sensitiveness and caution might seem to border on timidity. But while his cour- age was unquestionable, prudence became more developed with advancing years, and he shrunlc with dread from the asperities of strife, or the interruption of the peaceful tenor of his quiet pastoral duties. Mr. Presstman performed public religious services with great solemnity. In the pulpit his manner was impressive, but he used little action, and was not impassioned in delivery. But he was so evidently sincere and earnest that he secured the confidence and attention of his hearers, while the good sense and practical tone of his sermons rendered him an acceptable and profitable preacher, lie ever enjoyed the high respect and unfeigned affection of his parishioners. Though Mr. Presstraan's last illness was of such a nature as to forbid his bearing, in any considerable degree, what might be called a death-bed testimony, yet his blameless and holy life, after professing his faith in the Redeemer, gave the best and most satisfactory assurance that for him to depart and to be with Chi-ist was far better. I remain, Rev. and dear Sir With sincere regard^ yours, ALFRED LEE. EDWARD NEUFVILLE, D. D * 1824—1851. Bdwaed Neufville was born in Washington City, in the year 1802 ; but was early adopted, and subsequently educated by a distinguished mer- chant of Charleston, S. C. He came to the North for both his classical and theological education. He had, for a while, some connection with Columbia College, New York, but all that I can ascertain concerning it is in the following extract of a letter from the Rev. Dr. McVicar, one of the Professors in the College : — " I have searched in vain the College Eecords for the date and continuance of Mr. Neufville's connection with our insti- tution. I know that he attended Lectures for some considerable time, and during that period was an inmate in my family; but I have no record of dates, and only know he did not graduate. My only recollections of him, at that period, are of marked gentleness and amiability, with per- fectly correct deportment." Mr. Neufville passed from Columbia College to the General Theological Seminary, in New York, where he received his education immediately pre- paratory to the ministry. He was admitted to Deacon's Orders by Bishop Bowen of South Carolina, in 1824, when he had not yet attained his twenty-second year. He was settled shortly after, in the small rural parish' ' Bishop Elliott's Funeral Address.— MS. from I. K. Tefft, Esq. gg2 EPISCOPALIAN. of Prince William's, in South Carolina, where he laboured most acceptably till the winter of 1827, when he was called to the Rectorship of Christ Church, Savannah, Gra., then recently vacated by the lamented death of the Rev. Abiel Carter. He accepted the place, though it involved great responsibilities, — considering especially that he was only twenty-five years of age, and had been in Priest's Orders but a few months. In 1828, he was married to a daughter of the Hon. William B. Bullock, who died in 1833. By this marriage he had two children ; — one son who died very young, and a daughter who survived her father about two years. He was subsequently married to a daughter of Dr. Lemuel Kollock, by whom he had two sons, who, with their mother, still (1855) survive. In 1845, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Franklin College, Ga. Dr. Neufville's death was attended with circumstances of peculiar inter- est. His disease, which, in its earlier stage, excited little or no alarm, took a sudden change for the worse, developing rapidly delirium and stupor. On the Friday before his death. Bishop Elliott resolved to make the attempt to administer the Communion to him ; though he was not without appre- hension that his mind was too much unstrung to permit him to engage intelligently in the celebration of that ordinance. But to the surprise of all who witnessed it, the dying man seemed to rally for the occasion, and responded distinctly through every portion of the Communion Service ; and when the Bishop, approaching him to administer the elements, put to him the question, — " Do you understand what I am doing ?" his distinct answer was "perfectly;" and he stretched out his hand to receive the bread, just as he had been accustomed to do. It was a gleam of light in the midst of surrounding darkness. Once again, he joined in prayer with those around his bedside, and then sunk into a lethargy from which he was never aroused. He died on the 1st of January, 1851, aged forty-eight years. His Funeral was attended on Sunday morning, the 5th, on which occasion Bishop Elliott delivered a highly pathetic and appropriate address, which was published. FROM THE REV. WILLIAM BACON STEVENS, D. D., HECTOR or ST. ANDKEw's CHURCH, PHILABELPHIA. Philadelphia, June 18, 1855. Rev. and dear Sir: You have asked of me a difflouU work, — to portray the character of my friend and pastor, Dr. Neufville, whose warmth and purity of heart and gentleness of life made him beloved of all. He had few of those salient points or well defined characteristics, which constitute the head-land of Biogra- phy. He was not a man of vast intellectual power, nor of very profound acquire- ment; yet his knowledge was varied and extensive, and his mind acted with promptness and vigour. His sermons were attractive without being remarkable for strength; his delivery was graceful without rising to what I should call very decided oratory. The point in which he especially excelled in the ministration of the sanctuary, was in performing the Service of the Church. I have never heard our sublime and admirable Liturgy read so truthfully or impressively as it was by him. The silvery clearness and musical ring of his voice, the just conception of the words he was to utter, the exquisite modulation and emphasis which he gave to EDWARD HEUFVILLE. gg3 its various parts, the deep and earnest feeling and apparent obliviousness of self, which pervaded the whole Service, gave to his reading a charm, a finish, which I have never seen equalled, and which I never expect to see excelled. His reading of the Bible was so efiective and critically accurate as often to prove an exposi- tion. He seemed to depict the scene with what maj^ be termed the lights and .shades of a perfectly modulated voice ; and when he read such chapters as con- tain the History of Joseph and his brethren, the Fight with Goliath, the Healing of the blind man in the ninth of John, or the unfolding of the Resurrection in the fifteenth of the First of Corinthians, the mind would be wholly enchained; and I have seen his audience as much entranced under the melodious intonations and well adapted emphasis of his voice, as under the power of the most eloquent discourses. In his pastoral duties, Dr. Neufville went in and out among his people, like a moving blessing. The memory of several scenes associated with this branch of his duty, in connection with the serious illness of myself and family, will never fade from my mind. The soothing tenderness of his manner, the genuine sympa- thy of his heart, and his earnest eftbrts to impart spiritual consolation and bene- fit to the sick and afflicted, made him peculiarly welcome to the houses of sorrow and bereavement. And he knew how to rejoice with those who rejoiced, as well as to weep with those who wept. His vivacious manner, his lively conversation, his graphic delineation of men and scenes, his imperturbable good-humour, and his uniform inoffensiveness, made him everywhere agreeable and popular. His intercourse with persons of other denominations was frank, generous and Christian, and though he was devotedly attached to his own Church, he yet loved all those who loved our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. His influence in Savannah was great and eminently salutary, but its power was particularly seen in the Diocese of Georgia, of which he was, for many years, the Ecclesiastical Head, by virtue of his office as President of the Standing Com- mittee. Through his influence it was compacted and strengthened; and gener- ously waiving what might have been considered as constituting a claim to the Episcopate, by reason of his long and faithful service in Georgia, he was mainly instrumental in electing to that high office the noble-minded man who now occu- pies the post of Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church in that Diocese. It was a beautiful exhibition of Christian meekness to see the elder thus give way to the younger, the leader take the place of a subordinate; and no less delightful was it to behold the generous aid and uninterrupted harmony which ever marked his intercourse with Bishop Elliott, of whom he felt justly proud, and of whose Episcopate he was such an important and supporting pillar. In person. Dr. Neufville was slightly built, of delicate proportion, with a beaming face, the muscles of which he could control in a marvellous manner. His eyes sparkled under his heavy eye-brows, and his fine forehead was crowned with thick curly hair. He very much resembled some of the portraits I have seen of Bishop Heber. His step was quick, his movement rapid, his dress par- ticularly neat, and every thing about him bore the air of a Christian gentleman. I will only add that the Address delivered by Bishop Elliott, at the Funeral of Dr. Neufville, sketches his character in a most faithful and felicitous manner, and is alike creditable to the generous appreciation of the one, and the exalted virtues of the other. I am, with great regard. Your obedient servant, WILLIAM BACON STEVENS. gg4 EPISCOPALIAN. EDWARD THOMAS* 1825—1840. Edwakd Thomas, the third son of Thomas Hasell and Ann Thomas, was born in St. Stephen's Parish, S. C., on the 28th of September, 1800. On the paternal side he was descended, in a direct line, from the Rev. Samuel Thomas, t who was the first Missionary sent to South Carolina by the Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts ; and on the maternal, from Thomas Walter, a celebrated Botanist, and the author of " Flora Caroliniana." At an early age he lost his father^ and was left to the care and direction of his mother, — a person of a richly endowed and highly cultivated mind, and of consistent and elevated piety. To her judi- cious training and excellent example he was indebted, under God, for his earliest religious impressions ; and her many virtues he ever held in most grateful remejnbrance. His early childhood was spent in a village called Pineville, — a favourite resort for health during the summer months ; and there, at a Grammar School of some repute, was laid the ground-work of his education. He is spoken of by all who knew him, in his earlier years, as the amiable and pleasing child, and the discreet, studious and pious youth ; and it has been stated, on good authority, that probably, neither then nor in maturer years, did he ever make an enemy. He very early discovered a great fondness for reading the Scriptures ; as an illustration of which it is related of him that, when he was only twelve years old, one of his friends, on entering the room where he was, found him so absorbed in reading a book, that he did not even notice his entrance ; and, much to his surprise, on approaching him, he found that the book which had so riveted his attention was the Bible. With such a turn of mind, it is not strange that his eye should have been early turned toward the ministry. In 1817, he left the school at Pineville, and became a member of the Sophomore class in the South Carolina College, at Columbia. Here he maintained a high rank for both scholarship and deportment, and graduated with honour in 1819. By this time death had deprived him of his excel- lent mother ; and, by the advice of a friend, he went to reside for a while at Cambridge, that he might avail himself of some of the advantages for improvement afforded by Harvard College. After a few months, he trans- ferred his residence to New Haven, and had some general connection with Yale College, where he prosecuted his studies for a longer period. In 1822, he entered the Theological Seminary in the city of New York, and was received as a candidate for Orders in South Carolina. Here, by his cour- teous manners and meek deportment, he won the love and admiration of • Churchman, 18il. — MS. from Mrs. Thomas. t Rev. Samuel Thomas arrived in South Carolina from England in 1!'02, and was afterwards appointed by the Governor, Sir Nathaniel Johnson, to the Cnre of the people Eettled npon the three branches of Cooper River j but he was directed to make Goose Creek the principal place of his residence. His labours were attended with considerable success. He devoted a portion of hia time to the instruction of the negroes, and taught twenty of them to read. He went to England in 1705, and returned in October of the same year. In a few days after his arrival he died, " much lamented for his sound doctrine, exemplary life and industry; after having laid a good foundation for his sucoesaors to carry on the work he had begun." EDWARD THOMAS. 665 all ; and of the few of his contemporaries in the Seminary who survive, there are some who bear a grateful testimony to his good influence in moulding and improving their characters. In the autumn of 1824, he returned to his native State ; and in February, 1825, was admitted to the Holy Order of Deacons in St. Philip's Church, Charleston, by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Bowen. He immediately entered on his work, and became a mis- sionary, first to Fairfield District, and afterwards to Greenville, in both which Districts he rendered acceptable service to the few members of his communion whom he found there ; and in Greenville he was instrumental, by his unremitting exertions, in establishing the first Episcopal Church. He had some opposition to encounter in this enterprise ; but it gradually died away before his bland and conciliatory spirit, united with the utmost fidelity to his own convictions ; and even those who differed from him most widely could not but admire his pure and elevated character. In February, 1826, he was married to Jane M., daughter of the Hon. Theodore Gaillard, for many years a highly respected Judge of the Court of Common Pleas in South Carolina, — a lady whose fine intellectual and moral qualities eminently fitted her to be the companion of his life, and the helper of his labours. In April following, he was admitted to Priest's Orders by Bishop Bowen. The term of his mission not having expired, he returned to Greenville, and in February, 1827, he was called to the Rectorship of Trinity Church, on Edisto Island, where he was greatly beloved and emi- nently useful. In 1834, his health began to decline, and then for the first time he betrayed symptoms of a pulmonary disease, which, from delicacy of con- stitution, as well as hereditary tendency, he had always feared. Under these circumstances, he thought it his duty to resign his charge, and he actually tendered his resignation to his Vestry, but, instead of accepting it, they gave him leave of absence for the summer, hoping that travelling and consequent change of air would restore his health, so that he might be able to resume his labours among them. He acceded to their proposal ; but, as the experiment resulted less favourably than he expected, and he still continued an invalid, he requested that the resignation of his charge might take effect, without any qualification. He immediately directed his course to St. Augustine, Fa., where he hoped that rest from his labours, and a milder climate, would so invigorate his constitution that he might resume his official duties. During his residence there, his health gradually improved so that he was able to render occasional assistance to the clergy- man of the place, as well as to administer counsel and consolation to many who, like himself, had resorted thither as invalids. The manner in which his services there were appreciated may be judged of by the fact that, when a vacancy occurred in the Episcopal Church of the place, the Rectorship was offered to him. This, however, he declined, on the ground that what- ever service he might be able to perform, was imperatively called for in his native State. Having realized the beneficial effect upon his health of a residence for some time in St. Augustine, he returned to South Carolina, and in 1836, accepted a call to the Parish of St. John's, Berkeley County, in that State. Here he prosecuted his labours, with great assiduity, among the coloured as well as the white population, and continued in good health Vol. V. 84 666 EPISCOPALIAX. until the winter of 1837-38, when the disease of which he died (an affec- tion of the bowels) began first to show itself. In the early stage of his illness, no serious alarm seems to have been felt, in respect to it, either by himself or his friends. In the summer of 1838, he made a short excursion into the upper part of the State, and was much recruited, so that he was able to labour with little or no interruption during the succeeding winter. In the summer of 1839, as he had become more feeble, he made another journey, by request of his congregation, and returned, having experienced apparently a like favourable effect. It turned out, however, that the hopes which were now awakened in respect to his continuance were delusive. On the 26th of April, 1840, his youngegt child, a little boy of sixteen months, was taken from him by death ; and the very strong affection which he had for his children rendered this a very severe affliction. He performed the service at the funeral of the child, little suspecting that the time when he should follow him was so near at hand. From that time a perceptible change for the worse appeared in the state of his health. On the 24th of May, he preached, morning and after- noon, and baptized two children, which exhausted him so completely that he went to bed never to rise again. His disease, which had now reached to ulceration of the bowels, occasioned him the most intense suffering, but he endured it with calm submission to God's will ; and, though feeling a desire to live for the sake of his family and the Church of Christ, he could never- theless rejoice that his times were in God's hand, and had a delightful con- fidence that it would be gain for him to die. During an illness of six weeks, his Bible was constantly kept under his pillow ; and not a small part of his time was spent in prayer. He took a most affecting leave of his family, tenderly charging his young children to read the Bibk and love their God and Saviour ; and shortly after, with his mind clear and vigorous in its exercises till the last moment, he passed gently and triumphantly to his reward. He died on the 11th of July, 1840, in the fortieth year of his age, and the sixteenth of his ministry. On the day following, his remains were interred in the middle aisle of Strawberry Chapel, one of the churches which he served. The other church — that of Biggin — reared a tablet in grateful remembrance of him, in the inscription upon which they speak of him as " a well-learned, sound and practical theologian, a success- ful instructer, a persuasive preacher, a patient and condescending catechist, a true friend of th^ir children, and a lively example of Christian kindness, meekness, moderation, and heavenly-mindedness." Mr. Thomas left a widow and five children, — two sons and three daugh- ters. One of his sons is a lawyer in Nebraska Territory, and the other a physician in New York city. Soon after the death of Mr. Thomas, a selection from his manuscript sermons was published, in one volume, duodecimo, with a brief Introduc- tion by his widow. The discourses are highly creditable to both the head and heart of the author. EDWARD THOMAS. 667 FROM THE RT. REV. W. R. WHITTINGHAM, D. D., BISHOP or THE DIOCESE OE MARYLAND. Baltimoke, March 31, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir: I would gladly fulfil the wishes of Mrs. Thomas, by giv- ing you information concerning my long departed, but still freshly remembered and loved, friend, had I any thing of value to impart. But I knew him only as we were connected in the Theological Seminary in New York, and by a corres- pondence of no long duration after his removal thence to enter on the duties of the ministry. It was but for a year that we were together in the Seminary, circumstances of a domestic kind, — the death of a near relative, I think, having compelled him to relinquish the third year of his course, which would have corresponded with my second. To his high standing among his fellow-students, and with the Professors of the institution, others, I am sure, can testify as strongly as I should feel dis- posed to do, were it necessary. Quiet, patient, steady attention to all his duties, and consequent success in their discharge, was the distinguishing charac- teristic of bis student life. But the genial cheerfulness of his temperament cast a roseate hue over the even tenor of his way, and shed a kindly influence on all around him. To me, in particular, it made him more than a friend, — a life-long benefactor. Together with another member of his class, the Rev. J. Lawrence Yvonnet,* (too soon taken from us by an early death,) and my beloved and revered friend, the pre- sent Rector of St. Paul's Church, Buifalo, beseemed to take delight in correcting asperities and extravagances in a young and very inexperienced fellow-student, whose subsequent career has been favourably affected by their joint attentions most disinterestedly bestowed. The mild steadiness of my friend's character is that which now remains deepest impressed on my memory, as having been influential with me for good. His patient endurance and imperturbable good-nature won my love: and that gained, he was unwearied in turning it to account for his own kindly ends, of checking and correcting a disposition that must have been any thing but attrac- tive to his mature, well-balanced, and yet femininely gentle, mind. His quiet, soft way of carrying on his work was efficient to a degree, which, however much may have remained unaccomplished, no sterner or harsher discipline would ever have attained. After almost forty years, this is really nearly all that I remember of him — the benefit derived from his society. Never for a day has it ceased to call forth my gratitude, nor has the sense of it diminished with the lapse of time. The ripe scholarship and sound judgment, that then commanded the respect of a young associate, might have been soon forgotten ; but the claims of love, which the brother's heart availed itself of the opportunity to throw around its captive, are fresh and strong as ever. You, my dear Sir, must be answerable for the egotism of this note, as you insist upon having what I know of Mr. Thomas, and I know only how much I owe to him. Very respectfully. Your friend and servant, W. R. "WHITTINGHAM. * James Lawrence Ttonnet was a graduate of the General Theological Seminary in New York in 1824, received Deacon's Orders on the 1st of Septemher of that year, from Bishop Croes'of New Jersey, in St. Paul's Church, New York, and died shortly after his ordination. He was a young man of great promise. ggg EPISCOPALIAN. FROM THE REV. ALEXANDER W. MARSHALL, D. D., MISSIONARY OF ST. JOHN's CHAPEL, CHAELESTON. Charleston, S. C, February 26, 1858. Reverend and dear Sir: It affords me much pleasure to state (according to your request) some " personal recollections" of the late Rev. Edward Thomas of this Diocese, whom I had the privilege of numbering among my most intimate and valued friends. My acquaintance with him commenced when he was a mem- ber of the General Theological Seminary, then located at New Haven, and I, a student of Yale College. Though at different institutions, we were much together. He was about five feet, ten inches, in height. His countenance bespoke the amiability and benevolence which were the predominant traits of his character. His natural abilities, which were of high order, were well improved by study. Few clergymen (as I learned from many sources) were more faithful and success- ful in their pastoral relations. His many excellences commanded the respect and love of all who knew him. He ardently loved his Church, and so convinced was he of the truth of her distinctive principles, that he spared no pains to bring them to the notice of all who were not acquainted with them. His whole demeanour was so earnest and persuasive, that he seldom failed to bring over to his views those who differed from him. He was a strict observer of the Canons and Rubrics. It has been a source of great regret to me that I could not see him often during his ministry, as, after my return to South Carolina and ordi- nation, my parish was in the upper part of the State, where I resided until after his death. Our mutual regard continued undiminished. Wishing you success in your laudable undertaking, I remain yours respectfully, ALEX. "W. MARSHALL. FROM THE RET. PAUL TRAPIER KEITH, RECTOE or ST. MICHAEL'S CHURCH, CHAELESTON, 3. 0. Charleston, January 15, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir: Mr. Thomas, of whom you ask me to give you some account, was reared in a different part of the State from myself, and when we came into the ministry, our charges were much too remote for frequent or inti- mate intercourse. We were a year together at the South Carolina College, though he was so modest and retiring that I scarcely knew him, our rooms being in separate buildings. At the Theological Seminary in New York, however, we were thrown closer together; and during the nine months of our intercourse there, I felt it to be a privilege to hold communion with one so amiable, sensible and pious. Plain and simple in his wants and manners, and studious in his habits, it required the nearest approach to appreciate his worth. He was very highly esteemed by Bishop Bo wen; who, I remember, on my return from the Seminary, asked my opinion of him, and on my replying that he was one of the loveliest and most attractive characters I had ever known, promptly added, — " I am glad to hear you say so, for I have been impressed in the same way." Mrs. Thomasj after the death of her husband, committed a number of his ser- mons to me for correction, with a view to their being published; but, although they were written without any expectation that they would ever see the light, and had apparently never undergone any revision, they were characterized by such remarkable accuracy, that I scarcely had occasion for an erasure or inter- lineation. The sermons, though by no means highly elaborate, contain a great EDWARD THOMAS. 669 amount of Divine truth set forth in a simple, direct and impressive form, and are well fitted to assist the Christian in his conflicts, to sustain the mourner in his trials, and to quicken and elevate the general tone of evangelical piety. Very respectfully yours, PAUL TRAPIER KEITH. EDMUND DORR GRIFFIN * 1826—1830. Edmund Dokr G-bifpin, son of George and Lydia G-riffin, was born at Wyoming, Pa., on the 10th of September, 1804.- His maternal grand- father was Colonel Zebulon Butler, a distinguished officer of the Revolu- tion. In 1806, his father removed his family to the city of New York, where, for many years, he was well known as one of the most eminent law- yers in the State, and still (1858) survives at a very advanced age. Edmund's earliest years were marked by an uncommon gentleness of tem- per and great love of study ; and, as his constitution was delicate, he was kept chiefly in the country, at different schools, until he was twelve years of age. At that period, his strong attachment to home led him to request of his father that he might be placed at some school in the city ; and, accordingly, that of Mr. David Graham was selected, at which he continued for two years. Here his progress in the different branches of study was very rapid, and both his intellectual and moral developments such as to give promise, if his life were spared, of a career of honourable usefulness. In his thirteenth year, during one of his vacations, he made a visit to Wyoming, the place of his birth ; and kept a journal of his tour and visit, which is still preserved, and which exhibits at once minute observation, refined taste, and glowing sensibility. Among other objects of interest, he sought out the field on which the disastrous battle had been fought, in which his grandfather. Colonel Butler, was a commander, and he seems to have been quite indignant at certain mistakes into which historians had been betrayed concerning it. The visit proved highly gratifying to him, and he would gladly have remained longer, but that his father, who accom- panied him, found it necessary, after a short time, to return to New York. When Edmund was fourteen years of age, Mr. Graham's school was dis- continued ; and as Mr. Griffin thought his son too young at that time to enter College, he placed him for a year at a school then just rising into great celebrity under Joseph Nelson, LL. D., afterwards a distinguished Professor of Languages in Eutgers College. In this school, as in those in which he had been before, he was the master spirit, especially in classical learning ; and some of his Latin poems, as well as his poetic versions of portions of the classics, were considered by competent judges as worthy of a much older and more advanced scholar. In the autumn of 1819, when he was fifteen years old, he was admitted a member of Columbia College ; * Memoir hy Dr. McVickar. 670 EPISCOPALIAN. and the very severe examination, continued through several days, to which the candidates were subjected, placed him at the head of his class, — a posi- tion which he never lost during his whole college life. He graduated with the highest honour in August, 1823. On leaving College, he was exercised with serious doubts in the choice of a profession ; and at length determined to enter his father's office as a student at Law. After being thus engaged for about two months, he found that the study had but little attraction for him, and he felt himself secretly drawn towards a more sacred vocation. After considerable hesitation, he resolved to devote himself to the ministry in the Protestant Episcopal Church, to which, at that time, no member of his family belonged. Being doubtful, however, of his spiritual qualifications for this office, he deter- mined to enter only as a probationer, reserving to himself the privilege of withdrawing at the close of a year, provided the doubts which he then felt should not be removed ; 'and meanwhile he declined becoming a communi- cant in the Chureh. This arrangement, though somewhat irregular, was acceded to by Bishop Hobart ; and, at the opening of the General Semi- nary of the Protestant Episcopal Church, in the autumn of 1823, young Griffin's name was enrolled on the list of students. As the time of probation which he had prescribed to himself drew near to a close, he consulted his father in regard to his future course, and the only advice which his father gave him was to seek Divine guidance by devout meditation and earnest prayer. This advice it was believed he faithfully followed ; and within less than a week, his purpose to enter the ministry was distinctly formed. On the Sunday following, he became a communicant in Christ Church, New York, of which Dr. Lyell was then Hector. Between Dr. L. and himself there quickly grew up an intimate friendship, the last office of which, on the part of the Doctor, was the administering of the consolations of religion to his young friend on his death-bed. In August, 1826, he was admitted to Deacon's Orders, by Bishop Hobart, in St. George's Church, in the village of Fishkill. . As the duties of Dea- cons are appointed by the Bishop, that prescribed for Mr. Griffin was to accompany his Diocesan in his Episcopal Visitation. This he did as far as Utica, and there stopped to supply, for a time, the pulpit of the Rev. H. Anthon, who took his place as the Bishop's travelling companion. On his return to New York, he was appointed, in connection with his intimate friend, the Rev. George A. Shelton, as Agent of the General Theological Seminary in which they had both been educated. In pursuance of this appointment, they immediately proceeded to Philadelphia, and prosecuted their agency for several weeks. About this time, Mr. Griffin received a call from the Vestry of St. James' Church, Hamilton Square, New York, to become their Rector. Having resigned his situation as Agent, he accepted the call, and entered on his duties in that church, and the associate church at Bloomingdale. But scarcely had he commenced his labours here, when he was invited to officiate temporarily in ^Christ Church, New York, as the associate and assistant of his friend. Dr. Lyell. This invitation, with the consent of the Vestry of St. James' Church, he accepted ; though he still continued to EDMUND DORR GRIFFIN. Q^l officiate at St. James' a part of the time. So acceptable were his services la Christ Church, that a unanimous call was soon made out for him, and strongly seconded by the wishes of his friend and pastor. He was himself somewhat inclined to accept it, but the judgment of his father, in the opposite direction, finally prevailed. He declined the call, and completed his engagement at St. James'; at the close of which, in the spring of 1828, ho made a short visit at Baltimore and Washington. Shortly after his return, he had some alarming symptoms of an affection of the lungs ; in consequence of which, under medical direction, he gave up his studies and for the most part his professional duties, for three months, and spent the time chiefly in travelling. The result was favourable, and he returned home apparently restored. He now formed the purpose of crossing the ocean, and visiting some of the European countries, with a view to general improvement ; though, as his health did not seem to demand a suspension of his labours, he was somewhat embarrassed in making up his mind to such a step, and did not finally do it without the full approba- tion of Bishop Hobart. He sailed for Havre on the 17th of October, 1828 ; and on his arrival there, after a passage of thirty days, he proceeded to Paris, where he remained two months. He then passed on to Italy, where he spent a few weeks in visiting the most interesting points ; after which he made his way, by the Netherlands, to England, reaching London early in August, 1829. Here he remained some time, and then made a tour to the Lakes of Cumberland, and visited Robert Southey at his residence in Keswick. Thence he went to Scotland, where he spent three months in making himself acquainted with the institutions of the country, and in familiar intercourse with some of its ablest men. He sailed from Liver- pool on the 1st of April, 1830, and reached New York, after a passage of sixteen days. His tour had been one of great interest ; his health had been improved and confirmed ; his knowledge of men and things greatly increased ; and it was matter of common rejoicing with him and his friends that this episode of foreign travel had occurred thus early in his professional life. Within a week after his return, Dr. McVickar, one of the Professors in Columbia College, being obliged to suspend his college duties on account of ill health, applied to Mr. Griffin and another accomplished scholar, both of whom had been his pupils, to take his place in the business of instruc- tion, during his temporary absence from the institution. In addition to the general charge of History and Composition, Mr. Griffin undertook the immediate preparation and delivery of a course of lectures, which, though written with but little premeditation, were listened to with great interest, and still remain as the monument of a ready and beautiful as well as rich and highly cultivated mind. The uncommon ability with which he discharged this, as well as every other part of academic duty, was gratefully acknow- ledged by the students, and suggested to the Trustees the idea of establish- ing a new Professorship, with the special view of securing his services in it. But his premature death prevented the plan from taking effect ; and, indeed, had his life been spared, it is doubtful whether his views of duty would have allowed him thus, in a measure, to disengage himself from the appropriate work of a minister of the Gospel. 672 EPISCOPALIAN. Being released from active engagements at the commencement of the college vacation, he spent a few weeks at the sea-side, by way of relaxa- tion, and then proceeded to pay a visit to a younger brother in the Western part of Massachusetts, who, during his (Edmund's) absence from the country, had become deeply concerned for his personal salvation. On the 25th of August, accompanied by his brother, he returned to New York, where they spent a few days together in the closest and most endearing intercourse. On Saturday afternoon, (August 28,) the two brothers crossed the river to Hoboken ; and, in the course of their conversation, the younger brother described to Edmund a death-bed scene he had witnessed a few weeks before ; and he listened to the narrative with the most intense and solemn interest. Before they reached their home, the fatal malady — an inflammation of the bowels — had attacked him ; but, being unwilling to give needless anxiety, especially to his mother, he said little about it, and sat up until his usual hour of retiring. In the course of the night, however, he became much more seriously ill ; and the next evening his case was pronounced by two physicians to be extremely critical, and a third eminent practitioner was called in. He lingered until Tuesday morning, (Septem- ber 1st,) and then gently breathed his last. Though his sufi"erings, during much of the time, were intense, his mind was perfectly tranquil, and until within an hour or two of his death, acted with its accustomed clearness and vigour. His character, life, and death were alike beautiful. In 1831, the " Bemains " of Mr. G-riffin were published, with a Memoir of his Life, by the Eev. John MeViekar, D. D., in two volumes, octavo. FROM THE REV. MANCIUS S. HUTTON, D. D., New York, April 10, 1858. My dear Sir : You ask of me some personal recollections of my early friend, Edmund D. Griffin. I can hardly tell you how many sad yet pleasing memories your request has excited ; and yet the task which you have imposed is no easy one j for although I could give you many a little incident, to the memory of which my heart still clings, and which is full of interest to myself, yet I feel that it would not be right to make them public. This you will yourself acknowledge, when I tell you that my acquaintance with him commenced when we were about fifteen, and that the events and developments of a schoolboy's days, or of col- lege life, are so quiet and uniform that the outside world can feel but little inter- est in them. I have, however, a stronger reason, and that is, the closeness, the perfect unreserve, and if the term be allowable, the identity of our intimacy. This was such, that were I to record the incidents around which memory lin- gers, I should have to speak almost as much of myself and of my own feelings, as of him. Of his personal appearance I might speak with all the partiality of our early friendship, and yet would not surpass the simple truth. He possessed an almost faultless form and face. More than six feet in height, with straight muscular limbs, his carriage, even when but a boy, was very erect, his head was large and ■ intellectual, his hair light with a graceful curl, his eye bright and blue, and the mouth seemed made only to smile. As to the character of his intellect and attainments, T was perhaps too young and unformed myself to be able to give a very discriminating account. But they were both certainly of a high order. As a Greek and Latin scholar, he was undoubtedly very superior — I have heard him translate, without previous study, EDMUND DOKR GRIFFIN. 673 some of the most difiBcult Odes of the Greek poets, with almost the ease and readiness with which he would have read an English sonnet. His own compo- sitions were characterized by beauty rather than strength, and were admired especially for their classic taste. He was doubtless ambitious, but it was a noble ambition. He was very anxious to retain the eminence upon whicli he was placed on his entrance into Columbia College. The students in this College were, at that time, ranked numerically according to merit. Griffin entered No. 1. Immediately below him stood two young men of superior talents, and aspirants for the highest place,— the Rev. Dr. Young, late President of Danville College, and Lorenzo Da Ponte, a brilliant Italian. These were the only stu- dents in the class whom Griffin feared — but this very fear displayed the real nobleness of the man. I think that it was never mingled with the slightest envy, and I am sure would never have prompted him to even a doubtful action, to retain his position, highly as he prized it. Indeed, there was notliing little or mean about him: his might have been a proud spirit, but it certainly was not a vain one — he desired his own respect more than the praises of others. He admired the brilliancy of Da Ponte, and freely acknowledged the logical superi- ority of Young. I remember, upon one occasion, when speaking of a certain train of thought, he remarked, — " that was the only time when I felt that I tri- umphed over Young in argument." He was both modest and self-reliant, and possessed the most untiring diligence. He was excitable, and yet could move on with the most perfect calmness of manner, giving no other intimation of the deep inward feeling than a flushed cheek and a kindled eye, which seemed to look over and beyond the exciting cause. I think he had more real dignity of soul, than any young man whom I ever knew. In delicacy of feeling he was very remarkable. When insulted, he seemed to feel and act more like what we would expect from a sensitive and intelligent woman, than from a man; and yet there was nothing which could be called effeminate about him, and certainly no lack of real courage. I have often wished that his life might have been spared, for this as well as other reasons, — to show into what he would have matured. But you must not forget that my close intimacy with him was only between the ages of fifteen and twenty-three. After we graduated, I left the city to pursue my theological studies at Princeton, and death summoned him away at the early age of twenty- six. If the fond clinging of memory to our departed friends be any evidence of their worth, my friend Griffin surely has that evidence. No one of my early compan- ions that have passed away, occupies so large and high a place in that circle of unseen friends, which is so rapidly increasing. I know not, my dear Sir, whether in this unstudied record of some of my memories, I have met your wishes. If I have not, I will gladly act upon any suggestions which you may please to make. For highly as I prize the memory of departed friends, it interferes not with the claims of those friends who have been acquired in riper years, and I rejoice to number yourself among the latter,, and to be able to subscribe myself, Your friend and brother, M. S. HUTTON. Vol. V. 85 Q74 EPISCOPALIAN. JOHN ALONZO CLARK, D. D. 1826—1843. FROM THE REV. "WILLIAM BACON STEVENS, D. D. Philadelphia, November 23, 1855. My dear Sir : Dr. John A. Clark, as I suppose you are aware, was one of my predecessors in the Rectorship of St. Andrew's Church in this city. My appreciation of his character is such that I am glad to do any thing I can in aid of any effort to honour and perpetuate his memory ; and my familiarity with the circle in which he so long moved and accomplished a most important part of his work, and I may add, where his name has an enduring fragrance, supplies to me the material for what I suppose to be a suitable estimate of his character. The leading facts of his history, which I shall state, I have obtained from his family. John Alonzo Clark, the son of John and Chloe (Atwater) Clark, was born in Pittsfield, Mass., on the 6th of May, 1801. Both his father and grandfather had participated in the scenes of the Revolution, and his ancestry, for several generations, had been professors of religion, and some of them eminent for their piety. He was the youngest of eleven children, and inherited from his mother a delicate constitution, which continued to manifest its weakness through his whole life. Two of his elder brothers, William Atwater Clark, and Orin Clark, were ministers of the Protestant Episcopal Church. At the age of fifteen, John, while residing in Manlius, Onondaga County, N. Y., whither his parents had removed two or three years before, — became interested in the subject of his personal salvation, was confirmed by Bishop Hobart, and had his attention directed to the Christian ministry. Having pursued his preparatory studies chiefly under the direction of his two brothers, he entered the Junior class of Union College in 1821, and gradu- ated in July, 1823. He studied Theology first at Geneva, under the Rev. Dr. McDonald, and then passed a short time at the Greneral Theological Seminary, in the city of New York. On the 12th of April, 1826, he was admitted to Deacon's Orders by Bishop Hobart, in All Saints' Church, New York ; and imme- diately after took charge of the missionary station at Palmyra, Wayne County, N. Y. Here, and in the neighbouring towns of Lyons and Sodus, he laboured with great zeal and acceptance for three years, when he was called to be the Assistant Rector of Christ Church, New York City, of which the Rev. Dr. Lyell was Rector. His labours in this field were very arduous, but the impression made by his sermons was deep and enduring. In the autumn of 1832, he accepted an invitation to the Rectorship of Grace Church, Providence, R. I., — then a feeble parish, but which, under his energetic ministry, grew in size, in importance, in piety, and in influence, until it holds a place second to none in the Diocese. He laboured here with a zeal which was utterly regardless of bodily health and comfort. In addition to his public labours on the Lord's day, and his weekly lectures, JOHN ALONZO CLARK. 675 he established meetings at private houses, gathering in the neighbours, and preaching to them the truth as it is in Jesus. These latter services were attended with a great outpouring of the Spirit, and it was remarked that wherever those meetings were held, salvation came to that house. Intent only upon his Master's work, he was not aware that his ministry was watched and applauded far and near. But so it was that his reputa- tion was going forth, as a man of power, and influence and grace, and such was the hold which it had taken of the large and intelligent congregation of St. Andrew's, Philadelphia, that when their beloved Rector, Dr. Bedell, was called to his rest, Mr. Clark was selected as his successor. This invi- tation was made to him in the year 1835 ; and, after due consideration, he accepted it, though much to the regret of his devoted people, and not with- out much sorrow of heart at leaving a field which had become so much endeared to him by manifold tokens of the Divine presence. He entered upon his duties, as Kector of St. Andrew's, in August, 1835. So great, however, were the inroads which disease had made on his over- tasked and overworked body, that, in two years, he was compelled to take a voyage to Europe, as the only probable means of arresting his disease. While abroad, he visited several of the most interesting countries, and on his return, after an absence of nine months, he published an account of his Travels in two volumes, entitled "Glimpses of the Old World." The benefit which he derived from this voyage soon passed away, under his exhausting labours, and in the spring of 1843, his health had so far declined that he felt constrained to resign his Rectorship. This was to him a severe trial, but he met the exigency with firmness, and bowed submissively to the will which removed him from the pulpit that he loved, to a chamber of sick- ness and a bed of death. He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity, from Kenyon College, in 1840. He fell asleep in Jesus on the 27th of November, 1848. He offered himself a living sacrifice unto God. He was consumed by the fire which the love of Christ had kindled, and the love of souls had fanned into a devouring flame. Few men, it may safely be said, have performed, during an equally brief period, more or better service for the Redeemer's cause, or have gone down to their graves more deeply lamented. The following is a list of Dr. Clark's publications : — Christian Expe- rience as displayed in the Life and Writings of St. Paul. The Pastor's Testimony, 1835. The Young Disciple ; or a Memoir of Anzonetta R. Peters, 12mo., 1836. Gathered Fragments, 12mo., 1836. A Walk about Zion, 12mo., 1836. Glimpses of the Old World, 2 vols. 12mo., 1838. Gleanings by the way, 12mo., 1842. A volume of his Sermons was pub- lished after his death entitled "Awake thou Sleeper," 12mo. He was married, in October, 1826, to Sarah Buell, of Fairfleld, Herki- mer County, N. Y.; by whom he had nine children, six of whom preceded him to the grave. The personal character of Dr. Clark was made up of many interesting traits, such as a delicate sensibility, high moral sentiment, reflnement of feeling, and warmth of emotion, largeness of heart and gentleness of demeanour, combined with firmness of purpose and general Stability of mind. 576 EPISCOPALIAN. He was not what would be called a pulpit orator ; but his sermons were well written, thoroughly digested, full of the very marrow and -fatness of the Gospel, and delivered with a seriousness, earnestness, and unction which told with thrilling effect upon the minds and hearts of his audience. He was baptized with affliction. Death seemed to delight to visit his house- hold, and when he was laid in the tomb, it was to slumber with six of his children who had gone thither before him. This gave great solemnity and impressiveness to his manner, and influenced his whole tone of preach- ing, and enabled him to minister with peculiar advantage to the bereaved and sorrow-stricken of his charge. Few have laboured with more, or even equal, success. Many will be the stars that shall shine in the crown of his rejoicing. His pulpit and parochial labours were enough to tax the full powers of an ordinary mind ; but to these he added the toils of authorship and editor- ship, and sustained himself in each with high honour. Many of his works will be perpetuated through distant generations. By them he became widely known throughout the Church, and through them, he, "being dead, yet speaketh." It would be a pleasing task to go more particularly into the character, labours, and influence of this excellent minister, but I suppose the plan of your work does not contemplate any thing like minute detail. It is enough perhaps to say that he was eminently a man of prayer — it was his " vital breath." He was a man of faith, being ever found " leaning on the Beloved." He was a man of zeal, being earnest and forward in every good work. He was a man of wisdom, being wise to win souls. And he ful- filled the ministry which he had received, with a conscientiousness, a fidelity, a soundness of judgment, and singleness of heart, which have won for him a high name in the Church on earth, as a man full of faith and of the Holy Ghost. Believe me, dear Sir, Your obedient servant, "WILLIAM BACON STEVENS. FROM THE REV. FRANCIS PECK, BECTOK OE ST. MAKk'S CHURCH, BROOKLYH, N. T. Brooklyn, October 16, 1857. Rev. and dear "Brother: Your request that I should communicate to you my recollections of the Rev. Dr. Olark revives, the memory of one whose influence over rae I shall ever regard as one of the signal blessings of my life. The work of the ministry, in its duties, and difficulties, and responsibilities, was just open- ing upon me, at the period of my first meeting him. A quiet village of New- England, on the shores of the Narragansett, was the scene of my first Rector- ship. A meeting of the " Clerical Convocation " was to be held there with a view of awakening a deeper interest in the great subject of our common salva- tion. Much prayer had been offered, and strong hopes were entertained that a blessing would attend our propos.ed services; and these hopes were strengthened by the fact that among the clergy who were expected to be present, was the Rev. Mr. Clark; for, although he had been but a short time Rector of Grace Church, Providence, he had already won a high reputation as a fearless, faithful and emi- nently successful preacher of the Gospel. I had not then seen him; but the JOHN ALONZO CLARK. gY7 strong terms of commendation in which I had heard him spoken of, had awa- kened both my cin-iosity and interest; and it was not long before 1 was to be gratified. The opening service of the series had been appointed for the evening, and Mr. Olark was to take part in it by following the preacher in a brief appli- catory address. As the hour drew near, crowds from the village were seen approaching the house of God; but they were all the familiar faces of my parish ■ ioners, or of clerical brethren whom I well knew. At length a group came on who seemed absorbed in serious and earnest conversation, among whom there was one, and only one, who was a stranger to me. He was of slight figure, per- fectly erect, and in his walk there was a firm, self-reliant bearing, which indi- cated a man of earnest mind and decided purpose. This proved to be no other than my expected and most welcome brother, the Rev. Mr. Clarii. He greeted me with a whole-souled, Christian cordiality, which at once drew my heart towards him, and marked the beginning of an intimate and affectionate friend- ship that continued to his dying day. The first sentiment which the appearance and manners of Mr. Clark naturally excited, was that of high respect for his official character. You felt yourself in the presence of a man, acting under a deep conviction of the solemnitjr and importance of the work to which he had consecrated his life. As you first looked upon his countenance, you saw nothing specially attractive in his dark complexion, and the rather irregular grouping of his features; but these were soon lost sight of in his general expression, which revealed a spirit that had evi- dently been touched and moulded by the Divine power of Christianity, and which withal was no stranger to the gracious chastening of our Heavenly Fatlier. There was habitually an atmosphere of seriousness about him, which a stranger might scarcely distinguish from melancholy. Yet there were times when the cloud would rise and disappear, the settled and almost sad expression of his e3es change to that of sparkling pleasure, and the soul within beam out with a radiance all the more intense from its contrast with his ordinary aspect. I have heard his laugh ring for a few moments, among the loudest, in a happy group of friends, when some playful repartee or sudden burst of wit took him by sur- prise. But such departures from his usual gravity were like the variations of the needle from the pole : they might have furnished the true index to his consti- tutional temperament, but the more sedate habit which grace had introduced and established, was generally in the ascendant. Doubtless the sad expression of countenance to which I have referred, might have been caused in part by the exhaustion incident to excessive labour; but probably it was to be attributed still more to the hidden encroachments of that disease to which he ultimately fell a victim. With him Death, Judgment, Eternity, were not only realities, but ever pre- sent realities; and in view of these, he formed his estimate of the worth of the soul, and of the duties and responsibilities of human life. Here indeed may be said to have been the key to his whole character — he lived habitually under the influence of the powers of the world to come. Of few men could it be said more emphatically than of Dr. Clark that he redeemed time. He was prompt to the moment in meeting his engagements, and never seemed more delighted than when those engagements succeeded each other so rapidly as to crowd each day with the monuments of his beneficent activity. It was my privilege, for a considerable time, to be an inmate of his family. His labours had been greatly blessed; a spirit of revival rested on his congregation, and the harvest of souls demanded another reaper. Then it was that I saw him to the best advantage, in the midst of his work, and learned that ministerial suc- cess comes to the servant of God through a spiritual legitimacy ascertain, nay, more certain than that providential arrangement in respect to temporal matters, which brings wealth in the train of persevering industry. The earliest dawn 678 EPISCOPALIAN. found him at his toils, and that too, not unfrequently, after an hour had been preyiousl}' spent in secret devotion and physical exercise. His morning hours were sacredly given to study and earnest mental effort. But I do not mean by this that he either was or aimed to be an eminent scholar. His studies were all conducted with a view to practical utility; and he attached little value to any intellectual attainments that could not in some way be rendered subservient to the higher interests of his fellow-men. It was a principle with him always to be occupied with present duty. No passing event of the day but seemed to fur- nish him a fresh subject of devout contemplation. Some dispensation of provi- dence, — a distinguished mercy or awakening calamity of the week, often sug- gested the theme for the discourse of the ensuing Lord's daj'. And the sermon thus produced, instinct with living interest, secure of the sympathy of its audi- tors, and delivered with all the earnestness of thorough conviction, was no doubt often productive of results, which the records of eternity alone can fully declare. Measured by the standard by which many judge of preaching. Dr. Clark could not be considered as having any claim to superiority. You heard no finely turned periods, — not a sentence which indicated the least thought, on the part of the preacher, of oratorical display. His sermons were always plain and direct, — consisting of Divine truth clearly conceived and forcibly stated; and the staple of his discourses consisted of those truths which are peculiarly evangelical. He dwelt — some might think too much — upon the more alarming truths of religion; but when he could see those truths taking effect in the awakening and conviction of his hearers, he never failed to direct them with the utmost tenderness to the Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world. Owing to his remarkable diligence as a pastor, he seemed always to be fully acquainted with the spiritual condition of his flock. His discourses in the pul- pit often had their origin in private conversations with his people in their own dwellings. Did his eye on the Sabbath detect a newly awakened interest in any one before him, — that person was sure to be called upon at the earliest moment possible, bis state of feeling carefully ascertained, and the requisite instruction and counsel given him. It is rare indeed that we find the Pastor and the Preacher so beautifully and perfectly combined as they were in the case of Dr. Clark. And, in addition to his manifold labours in both these departments, he redeemed time to send forth several works which have already done, and are des- tined still to do, good service to the cause of Christ. They present important truth invested with the charm of great simplicitj', and naturalness, and familiar illustration, and breathing a spirit of Christian earnestness and affection that was evidently imbibed at the foot of the Cross. Few men in our communion, or any other, have arisen, done their work, and passed away at the early age at which Dr. Clark was called to his reward, who deserve better to have their names embalmed in the grateful and affectionate remembrances of the Church.. Many men we may find of superior natural endowments, and of broader and more finished scholarship, but rarely one who has made such full proof of his ministry. Even when disea.se had so far accom- plished its work that the weak flesh refused to obey the willing spirit — yes, even then, was he about his Master's business, — faithful to the last. Well do I remember — never can I forget — my last interview with him. The scene of his labours had been changed. As the successor of the lamented Bedell, he had accepted the Rectorship of St. Andrew's Church, Philadelphia. In that more ample field he pursued the same untiring course of labour, which had been crowned with such abundant success in Providence. The same results followed; but alas ! the price which he paid for them was nothing short of his life. The rest- less energy of the man, the untiring devotcdness of the Christian minister, were an overmatch for the amount of strength that remained to him. His ministry in Philadelphia was extended over a period, brief indeed, but embodying more JOHN ALONZO CLARK. g79 memorials of substantial Christian usefulness than we ordinarily expect to find in connection with the labours of many years. The interview to which I have alluded took place a month or two before his death. My name was announced, and soon I heard a slow and feeble step descending the staircase. I arose and grasped the emaciated hand of my friend. Consumption had been silently but irresistibly doing its work. It was to myself a painful greeting; but I saw upon his countenance a smile that seemed to beto- ken the clustered blessings of a well-spent life — peace with himself, with the world, and with God. He felt that his work was done — most imperfectly indeed, in his own conception, but still acceptably, for the Redeemer's sake. Thus he passed away, leaving blessed fruits of his labours here on earth, to enter upon the glorious rewards reserved for those who turn many to righteous- ness. I am, dear Sir, with sincere regard, Faithfully yours, FRANCIS PECK. JARVIS BARRY BUXTON * 1827—1851. Jarvis Barry Buxton was born at Newborn, N. C, on the 17th of January, 1792. His father, Jarvis Buxton, was a native of Mold, in the Principality of Wales, but had migrated to North Carolina sometime before the commencement of the War of the Revolution. His mother, whose maiden name was Ursula Barry, was born in Switzerland : her family had come to this country for the purpose of raising silk, but the attempt, not proving successful, was abandoned. His mother died when he was fifteen years old, and his father when he was eighteen. Both parents lie interred in the old grave-yard in Newborn, beneath the same tombstone. He spent his early years at school in his native place, and was, for some time, under the instruction of the Eev. Mr. Irving,t at that time Eector of the Church in Newbern, and distinguished as a classical and mathema- tical teacher. Here he was attentive and docile, and made rapid improve- ment in his studies ; but, after a while, his father sent him to the North, where he remained for some time. On his return, he settled at Newbern as a merchant. He was now a decidedly religious man ; and, though edu- cated in the Episcopal Church, yet, owing to various circumstances, espe- cially the depressed state of the Church in North Carolina, he was, for some time, strongly inclined to join the Methodists, and actually became intimate with several prominent families of that communion. His attach- * Memoir prefixed to his printed SermoDS. — MS. from his sod. Rev. J. Buxton. f Thomas Pitt Irvino was born on the Eastern shore of Maryland, and was graduated with high honour at the College of New Jersey in 1789. He was Preceptor of the Academy at Newbern, N. C, from 1790 or 1791, until 1811 or 1812, when he wo^ called to the double service of presiding over the Academy, and officiating as Rector of the Church, at Hagerstown, Md. While residing at Newbern,— some time before the year 1797,— he went to Philadelphia, and received ordination from Bishop White, and afterwards acted as Rector of Christ Church, New- bern, as long as he remained there. He was much distinguished as a teacher, and was regarded as one of the best Greek scholars and Mathematicians of his day. gSO EPISCOPALIAN. ment to the Prayer Book, however, had not been diminished; and a slight change in his associations brought him back to his wonted preference for his own Church. He began now to examine carefully into the Consti- tution and Ministry of the Church, and the result was that he received, on intelligent conviction, the views which he had before held loosely as an hereditary faith. On the 24th of March, 1819, Mr. Buxton was married to Ann, daughter of Ealph Potts, of "Washington, N. C, who was the patriarch of the Methodists of his 4ay in that town. Shortly after this event, he left New- bern, and went to reside in Beaufort County, where, after a few years, he became a candidate for Holy Orders. Bishop Ravenscroft, in his First Annual Address to the Diocesan Convention, in 1824, refers to the improved condition of two congregations, and " the deep interest felt for the revival of the Church," as owing in a great measure to the zealous and well directed efforts of two lay readers, one of whom was Mr. Buxton. On the 9th of December, 1827, he was admitted to Deacon's Orders, at Elizabeth City, by Bishop Ravenscroft, who, on the same occasion, consecrated the new church, and the newly ordained Deacon was forthwith invested with the charge of the parish. Here he continued till 1831, when he removed to Fayetteville. But before entering on this last charge, — Bishop Ravens- croft having deceased the preceding year, — Mr. Buxton visited Richmond, Va., for the purpose of receiving Priest's Orders from the venerable Bishop Moore; and he was,. accordingly, ordained to the Priesthood, in St. John's Church of that city, on the 8th of May, 1831. What Bishop Moore's estimate of his character was, may be inferred from the fact that, a year or two before this, he took measures (which, however, proved inef- fectual) to procure his services as Assistant in the Monumental Church. On Sunday, the 15th of May, 1831, Mr. Buxton preached his first ser- mon in St. John's Church, Payetteville, the scene of his after labours, from Luke X. 5. The same week the Convention, which elected the Rev. Dr. Ives to the Episcopate of North Carolina, met at Raleigh. The Sunday follow- ing his return from that Convention, and just after the morning service, a fire broke out which laid the town of Payetteville in ruins. The church edifice in which he had been called to minister, shared in the common desolation. The parish, being destitute of the pecuniary resources neces- sary to repair their loss, resolved to appeal for aid to their more favoured brethren ; and the newly constituted Rector readily consented to undertake the self-denying mission of commending their cause to public sympathy. He, accordingly, travelled extensively, visiting many of the more opulent churches of the North, and in about six months obtained the sum of seven thousand six hundred dollars. With this a new church was erected on the site of the old, and was duly consecrated on the 13th of January, 1833. Mr. Buxton's ministry seems to have been marked less by striking inci- dent than by a steady, laborious and earnest discharge of the duties of his oflice. While he was in principle and practice a thorough Episcopalian, he had little relish for controversy, and maintained the most pleasant relations with his brethren around him of different denominations — as an illustration of which, it is mentioned that both the Presbyterian and Baptist ministers of the place were at his death-bed. He held on the even tenor of his way JARVIS BARRY BUXTON. 681 year after year, until he finally and suddenly received his summons to depart. He had often expressed the wish that, if it were the will of God, his last illness might be of brief continuance. For several months pre- vious to his decease, he had' seemed somewhat depressed in spirits, and would sometimes speak of resigning his parish, and spending the residue of his life in the Missionary Department of the Diocese. His bodily health, however, continued vigorous up to the time of his being attacked by the disease (strangulated hernia) which occasioned his death. " I well remem- ber," says his son, the Kev. Jarvis Buxton, in a letter addressed to myself — " I well remember the morning of the attack. He had just commenced the reading of one of David's Psalms, for family worship, in the parlour. At his request, I took the Book, and finished the service. A mattress being brought down into the parlour, he was laid thereon, uttering the words, — ' Lay me down to die.' He lingered for two days in great pain, yet with- out losing his presence of mind. During this time, he recognised and quietly shook by the hand his many friends who clustered around him, calling each by name. His testimony for Christ had already been given by his life and works." Mr. Buxton died on Friday, May 30, 1851, in the sixtieth year of his age. The Convention of the Diocese, which was then holding its annual session in his parish, immediately adjourned on the announcement of his death, and, on reassembling, testified their grateful and reverential respect for his memory by appropriate llesolutions. His death was regarded as a public loss, and produced a deep sensation throughout the whole commu- nity. In 1853, a large octavo volume of Mr. Buxton's Discourses was published, together with a brief Memoir of his Life, by his son, the Rev. Jarvis Buxton. The Discourses are marked by decided ability, and though dis- tinctly showing their denominational origin, cannot fail to be read with pleasure and profit by Christians of any communion. Mr. Buxton's first wife became the mother of four children, one of whom, Eev. Jarvis Buxton, is (1857) Eeotor of Trinity Church, Ashville, N. C. She died on the 5th of October, 1826 ; and on the 3d of April, 1834, Mr. Buxton was married, a second time, to Mrs. Harriet H. Jennings, who still survives. FROM THE REV. JOSEPH C. HUSKE, KECTOK OP ST. JOHn's CHnRCH, FAYETTEVILLE, S. 0. Fatettbville, November 3, 1857. Rev. and dear Sir: The grateful task of calling up and recording for your use my recollections of the character of the late Mr. Buxton, my predecessor in this parish, I now undertake with pleasure, although I am doubtful of my ability to do justice to the subject, or fulfil the purpose which you have in view. But my intimate friendship with that excellent man, the fact of my succeeding him in his ofBce as Pastor of the Church, and allow me to add my desire to respond in fitting terms to your request, and my appreciation of the laudable work in which you are engaged, all seemed to make it proper, indeed imperative, that I should do what I could to help you to present a faithful sketch of my departed and venerated friend. Vol. V. 86 Q82 EPISCOPALIAN. My acquaintance with Mr. Buxton commenced iu early boyliood. In May, 1831, when I was not quite ten years old, he entered upon the ofiBce of Rector of this parish; and from that time until his lamented death, the history of my life was in great measure interwoven with his. I can well remember the first time he preached in St. John's Church; and also how soon after he was settled in this parish the influence of his very remarlcable character began to be exerted upon my own life and the lives of other boys connected with the Episcopal Church. Indeed, 1 think one of the most distinguishing traits of iiis character, and the surest proof of an extraordinary knowledge of human nature, for which he was noted by all who knew him, was a facility of acquiring influence over the minds of the young, and especially of boys. If I may be allowed the expres- sion, " he knew a boy by heart " — he knew perfectly well how to win his confi- dence and love; and it was by showing him that he not only understood his feelings, but sympathized with him. It is the practice of some who are in a relation of authority towards boys, to watch them closely, and endeavour to spy out their secret movements by coming upon them unexpectedly. But nothing could be farther than this from Mr. Buxton's mind and heart. He knew human nature too well to be guilty of this ruinous folly. On the contrary, his wisdom seemed to be to put confidence in the boys; to presume somewhat upon tiieir virtue, for the purpose of inspiring them with a feeling of self-respect, and regard to duty as enjoined of God, that so they might avoid mere " eye-service, as men-pleasers." I recollect an incident which illustrates my meaning. In passing from his study, which was in an upper room of the school-house, on one occasion he surprised a number of the larger boys who were playing at cards in a thicket near by. Of course they were much alarmed, thinking the fact would be reported to the Master; and thej' well linew the consequences, if that sliould be the case. But Mr. B. stopped and kindly expostulated with them on the impropriety and evil of their conduct, and concluded by saying, — " Now, young gentlemen, if you will throw away your cards, and promise me not to play again, I give you my word, you shall never hear of this from me." And to the day of his death no one ever did hear of it from him. And although we cannot reasonably suppose that the boys were as faithful to their word as he was, yet his kind treatment of them, and ready confidence in their fidelit}' to truth, had its effect, in awakening their affectionate regard towards him; and this, I know, was the means of saving some of them from the greatest possible evils. In this spirit it was that he always dealt with us, while we were thoughtless about religion. He first won us to confidence in himself, that through that he might bring all the power of Divine truth to bear upon us. And this he failed not to do, as we grew older, making every occur- rence in the town that was suited to produce religious impressions on the mind, the basis of powerful exhortations in his frequent lectures to us. So that when we arrived at a suitable age to make a public confession of Christ, there was hardly one of my coevals, who did not make that confession in the rite of Con- firmation. And I believe it is owing, under God, to his faithful instruction of us, both before and after Confirmation, and to the peculiar influence of his character, that I am now able to say that, of twelve or fifteen young men, confirmed with nie, and of others confirmed soon after, nearly every one still remains faithful to his vows to God, and grateful for the fidelity of our lamented friend. The fact that our Communion table is filled up with young men to a larger extent than in any other place of which I have any knowledge, is the monument which he himself built to perpetuate his memory, — more durable than the marble shaft erected by the ladies of this congregation to mark the spot where his remains are deposited. As it was always my design to enter the ministry from the time of my Confir- mation, I was, for that reason, brought into close intimacy with Mr. Buxton. JARVIS BAKKY BUXTON. 683 And I am fully convinced that to his public teaching and private conversation 1 am more indebted for the moulding of my religious character than to any other person; excepting always that mother who is never to be included by any of us in any comparison with others. I often spent Sunday evening with him; and, notwithstanding the depth and power of his sermons, which 1 always listened to with a feeling akin to rapture. It seemed to me that his ordinary fireside conversation (with his pipe in his mouth, which he seemed to relish infinitely) was not inferior in the depth of its spiritual wisdom to any of his sermons. But I must not dwell too long on these sacred memories. On my return from College, I was removed from under the immediate influence of Mr. Buxton, for the space of two years, having taken up my residence in the city of Ealeigh, with a view to prosecute my theological studies more advantageously. But the spirit which he had infused remained with me, and I felt his influence wherever I was, and shall continue to feel it until the day of my death. At the conclusion of this period, I returned to Fayetteville; and though, in my theological studies, I was not under the direction of Mr. Buxton, yet I derived very important aid from associating with him, — especially I gained deeper views of the Gospel of the Grace of God. He was my spiritual father, and I gladly listened to all his instructions. I remained thus in close and affectionate inti- macy with him for eighteen months more, when, after an examination by him and another Presbyter, according to our Ecclesiastical Canons, I was ordained to the ministry in his parish church. I mention my examination by him for the purpose of saying that it lasted four or five hours every day for three days. There has been some complaint among us that examinations for the ministry were too slight. I have often thought, when 1 reflected upon the sifting he gave me, that he at least was guiltless of that charge. After my ordination, I removed from Fayetteville to take charge of a congre- gation. From that time till his death, 1 saw him but seldom — on my visits to Fayetteville, or when I met him in Convention. And this reminds me of a very peculiar and original way he had of applying the Scripture. When he would express to me his satisfaction in having me visit Fayetteville, and occupy his pulpit, he would say how much he was "comforted by the coming of Titus." Another instance occurs to me — at one of our Con- ventions, a lay delegate, in making a speech, inadvertently said " in my Diocese, it is done so and so," meaning in his parish. Mr. Buxton, in his indescribable manner, rubbing his broad hand roughly up and down his face, said in an under- tone, just loud enough to be heard by those around him, — "Ye take too much upon you, ye sons of Levi. Seek ye the Priesthood also.'" Mr. Buxton was a large, broad-shouldered, strongly built man, evincingin his appearance and gait, even up to the time of his last illness, great bodily strength. The word brawny, I should suppose, describes him best — abundance of muscle without superfluous fat. The expression of his countenance was that of great decision and firmness, — especially of the eye, which was of a very dark hue, though not black, and of the mouth, v/hich was compressed as if he had his teeth clenched. He had a habit of grinding his teeth, especially when in deep thought, which perhaps gave cast to the expression of his countenance. The colour of his hair was dark chestnut, which, at the time of his death, was slightly sprinkled with gray. In manners, Mr. Buxton might be called a plain, blunt man. He had, as I thoun-ht, but little ease or grace in company. Indeed I think he had no taste for fashionable society, or for mere social visiting. While he was indefatigable in visiting the poor at all times, and indeed all classes when there was need, he yet visited his parishioners in a social way less than they desired. AVhen it was 684 EPISCOPALIAN. intimated to him, in the way of complaint, that he did not visit enough, I have heard him say, — " Oh the rich can take care of themselves — I must look after the poor." And he had an idea that a minister lessened the dignity of his office, and caused an undue familiarity with himself, by much social visiting. But, at the same time, he always seemed very happy to have his parishioners at his house, without ceremony. I must not omit to mention his exceeding suavity of manner towards children, always noticing them, and calling them by some endearing appellation; and the consequence was that the children always loved to see him pass, and to put themselves within the reach of his kind expressions. Mr. Buxton possessed by nature an intellect of great vigour, which made its way, by its own inherent force, without the usual advantages of a liberal educa- tion. As he used to say of a true Christian, so I may say of him in this respect — " he had his root in himself, and not in some other man." It seemed to me that his mind disdained all rules that were not self-imposed. He educated him- self after his own way, and his mind would work after its own fashion. He had that peculiar faculty, of which Shakspeare is so illustrious an example, of seiz- ing on the most common things, and making them seem new and great by the use to which he applied them. The mention of Shakespeare brings to my recol- lection a definition of genius which I heard him give, of which he referred to Shakspeare as an illustration. He said, on the occasion to which I refer, that genius consisted in the power to discern veins of truth, and to work them out. An ordinary mind might strike the vein, but would run across it; but the genius would instinctively turn and work it until it was exhausted. Mr. Buxton's mind, in all its great strength, was given without reserve to the cause of Christ. Every thing that he knew, and every thing that he acquired, he carried to that great altar, and ofi'ered it a sacrifice to his Saviour. He had a great deal of practical knowledge, — knowledge of common things; but it seemed as if there was nothing that came within the range of his observation, but that he contrived in some way to render it subservient to the illustration or defence of Divine truth. Thus, seeing his horse eating grass in his yard, — choosing some kinds and refusing others, he was led by this circumstance to compose a powerful sermon in which he maintained that the true Christian had an instinctive sense of what was nutritious and wholesome in the pasture of the Church of God; and that though false doctrines might be introduced, and might grow up, like tares together with the wheat, yet that the true Christian would instinctively reject that which was poisonous or not nutritious, and receive that which was good and wholesome. This was about the time that Bishop Ives was taking his first steps toward Romanism. In one of those Sunday evening visits to which I have alluded, speaking of the Church, or an individual Christian, being in affliction, he remarked that, in such circumstances, we were apt to think that every thing was lost, — that all progress was at an end. " But," said he, " it is a great mistake;" and, look- ing out upon the bare branches of the trees, he added, — " in winter the trees look as if they were dead forever. But there are great works goin" on within them now, even in winter; and the time will come when we shall see it, in the buds, and leaves, and glorious fruits of summer. So it is in affliction — great works are going on, even in the midst of our desolation." Thus it was that his mind caught hold of every thing about him, and pressed it into the service of God. And this acquisitive faculty, this sensibility to every thing around us, that can minister to the understanding or the support of truth, seems to me to be the sign and token of true genius. The moral qualities of Mr. Buxton's character were, like the intellectual, such as would have made him remarkable any where. He was greatly distino-uished for moral courage. Of him it may be said, with literal truth, that, " he had not the fear of man before his eyes." This might be seen flashing from his JARVIS BARRY BUXTON. 685 countenance, whenever ho repeated such a text as " Cease ye from man, whose breath is in his nostrils: for wherein is he to be accounted of?" I do not mean merely that he had that courage which puts a man above the fear of bodily harm. That indeed he had in an eminent degree, and herein he was like his favour- ite author. Dr. Barrow. I remember one occasion on which I witnessed an exhibition of this, in connection with one of his moral characteristics, — namely, in his respect for law and authority. One Sunday morning, as a number of us, young men, were walking to church in company with him, we fell in with a young man, who was wantonly cutting an old free negro with a knife. The negro appealed to us for protection. Mr. B. was roused to the highest pitch of indignation, and said in a quick and angry tone, — "Young gentlemen, will one of you go for an officer i" Thei young man, walking up and down the side- walk, and brandishing his knife, remarked very contemptuously — " Any how, you can't take me." Instantly, upon the word, Mr. B. dilated with iiidignation, strode to the fence, threw off his cloak, and marching straight up to the man, boldly laid his hand upon his collar, and said, — " Young man, take care, you make me forget myself" The poor fellow, taken entirely by surprise, cowered like a dog before the giant form and flashing eye of the venerable minister. Mr. B. soon recovered from his excitement, and, as we walked on, quietly remarked that "some men were like horse and mule, which must be held in with bit and bridle; that he, for his part, did not agree with those, who held that every thing was to be done by moral suasion; that there was an animal in man that must be dealt with, not altogether by reason and persuasion, but by force also." But, besides this physical courage, he had true moral courage in the highest degree. When he took a position, he held to it with the most inflexible tenacity, and defended it with all the powers of his peculiar mind; often dealing blows, at once the most effective and the most unlocked for. I do not say that he could not be reasoned out of a position, though I rarely knew him to give up one which had been deliberately taken. But certainly no amount of opposite opinion — not the whole world arra3'ed against him — would, in itself, have moved him one jot from what he believed was truth. I remember, too, many things which he did, in the discharge of his office, which evinced the highest moral courage. I have already given you an intimation of the character of his preaching. He was a profound thinker, and usually took such striking views of his subject as to leave a deep, — often an indelible, impression. I think I have never heard any preacher who succeeded so well in securing a permanent lodgment of the truth in the hearer's mind. It is truly wonderful to me how many of his sermons I remember vividly to this day — not merely the general outline, but much of the filling up, and even many particular expressions, seem written upon my mem- ory with a pen of brass. The reason of his accomplishing so much in this way was that you were obliged from the beginning to give him your whole attention — otherwise he would soon leave j'ou. But, having once gained your attention, he held you to the end, in deep sympathy with the workings of his own mind, and by a power of attrac- tion that was absolutely irresistible. I cannot tell how often I have sat absorbed in his great themes, feeling, in the lowest depths of my soul, as if he were inspired. And yet he had not a single one of the external gifts of an orator. Indeed he was rather deficient in the graces of style and manner. Still there was some- thing about him that would command attention; and when he gradually warmed up, and his mind began to work with its prodigious energy, and his deep feelings became aroused, he was often, in a very high degree, eloquent. I have not unfrequently seen him, overcome by his theme, burst into tears, and pause until his intense emotion had subsided; and I have heard of his actually sobbing in the pulpit, — so overwhelming was the current of his feelings. 686 EPISCOPALIAN. And now, my dear Sir, I might go on, and write you page after page, of his excellent qualities as a Pastor; especially of his happy faculty of ministering to the poor, the sick, and the aflBicted. Whatever phase human nature presented, amidst the vicissitudes of this changeful life, it seemed to me that he was ready to meet it, and deal with it in the most felicitous manner. But I have, uncon- sciously to myself, indulged in these personal reminiscences too far already. I have made this friend of my early life to live again in my own soul. The effort to which your request has put me, has waked up a thousand memories which I supposed had long since perished. I find that his image is deeply engraven on my heart, and is associated with my earliest and holiest thoughts of God, and duty, and Heaven. I know not how I can convey the impression which he made upon me more faithfully, or how I can more fitly conclude this letter, than by adopting the beautiful sentiment of Lselius towards Scipio, in Oioero de Amicitia : — " Sed tamen recordatione nostras amicitiae sic fruor, at beate vixisse videar, quia cum Scipione vixerim." I am yours truly, With Christian regard, J. C. HUSKE. FROM THE REV. HENRT W. DUGACHET, D. D., RECTOR OF ST. STEPHEN'S CHURCH, PHILADELHIA. Philadelphia, August 12, 1858. My dear Dr. Sprague: When I promised to give you some account of my late friend, the Rev. Jaevis B. Buxton, of North Carolina, I did not sufficiently reflect upon my inability to do him justice, or to satisfy your reasonable expec- tations. But if the brief statement I now give of my personal recollections of that excellent man, can serve your purpose in any way, I shall be trulj' gratified. My acquaintance with him began in my early ministry, when I was the Rector of Christ Church, Norfolk, Va. He was, at that time, a Deacon only, recently ordained by Bishop Eavenscroft, the then eminent Diocesan of North Carolina. Being settled in the Church nt Elizabeth City in that State, not very far off from me, and subsequently marrying a lady some of whose relations lived in Nor- folk, I used to see him frequently in after years; and he was often a visiter, and sometimes a guest, at my house. And, a few times he occupied my pulpit, at my invitation. Having heard him preach so seldom, I can hardly venture to say much of him as a preacher. But, my recollection of him in that character is, that he was very plain, not elegant, not brilliant, — but remarkably clear, truly evangelical, and always very practical, and at times quite forcible and impressive. His manner had nothing of the oratorical about it, but corres- ponded, very strikingly, with the character of his discourses. I do not remem- ber that I ever saw him use a gesture in preaching. But his voice — indeed his whole delivery — impressed every one with the conviction of his great sincerity, his earnest piety, and his sole desire to do good. What sort of a preacher he became in his later years, when I had no opportunity of hearing him, — (not having seen him even for many years before his death,) — I do not know, except from report. But I know that he sustained himself admirably in the Church at Fayette- ville, in the long period during which he ministered to the intelligent, refined, and well-instructed congregation that worshipped there, and that he was regarded by them, and by the people in North Carolina generally, as one of the most respectable and useful of the Clergy in that Diocese. His personal character was of a kind always to command my entire confi- dence, and my cordial respect. I knew that he was a good man; and I saw that JARVIS BARRY BUXTOX. 687 he was a devout, true hearted, zealous minister of Christ. I am sure that every bod}' that knew him well, will say the same of him. Indeed, I will go further, and say that I considered him an eminently godly man. That he was a devoted, hard-working, self-denying pastor, was as notorious in the Diocese of North Carolina as his name. He excelled, I am told, in the discharge of the private duties of the pastoral office, — and was remarkably diligent, acceptable, and useful, in visiting his flock, and in ministering to the sick and the afflicted. Indeed, he always seemed to me to be just the man for that kind of work; and he always talked of it as his delight. He was cut off very suddenly, in the vigour of his days, and in the midst of a most respectable and signally useful ministry. Yet, under the severe suffer- ings always attendant upon a strangulated hernia, he maintained a, calmness and a peace worthy of a Christian; and exhibited an humble yet unwavering trust in Christ his Saviour, well befitting a faithful steward about going to ren- der his account, and to receive his reward. Now, dear Doctor, do what you please with this poor sketch. It has given me pleasure to pay even this feeble, but well-deserved, tribute to the memory and the merits of my esteemed brother Buxton ; and pleasure, also, to please you by complying with your request that I would furnish you a few lines about him. With sentiments of great esteem — nay, more than that — sincere attachment, I am, dear Doctor, your old friend, HENRY W. DUCACEET. THOMAS JOHN YOUNG.* 1827—1852. Thomas John Young, the youngest child of William Price and Dinah (Cox) Young, was horn in Charleston, S. C, on the 22d of October, 1803. His family, on the paternal side, belonged to the Episcopal Church ; on the maternal, to the Society of Friends. The years of his boyhood were passed chiefly at different schools in his native city ; and his frequent changes of schools, none of which were of a high order, were thought to have been unfavourable to his early intellectual development. He entered Yale College in 1819 ; but, owing to defective preparation, was obliged for some time to task himself to the utmost in order to maintain a fair standing in his class ; and, in doing this, he essentially impaired his physi- cal constitution. He, however, pursued his studies, during his whole course, with great alacrity and success, and graduated in 1823, with one of the highest honours of his class. His mind had early taken a religious direction, and he had been admit- ted to the rite of Confirmation at the age of fifteen. When he left College, it was with the full purpose of devoting himself to the ministry ; but, by reason, of pecuniary embarrassments consequent on the death of his father, he was obliged to delay his theological studies, until, by his own efforts, he had earned the means of prosecuting them. Accordingly, he was, for Oh. Rev., 1853.— Blake's Biog. Diet.— MSS. from Mrs. Young. 683 EPISCOPALIAN. one year, a Tutor in the College of Charleston, at the same time giving instruction to private classes ; and, at the expiration of this engagement, in 1824, he became a member of the Theological Seminary in the Protes- tant Episcopal Church in the city of New York. Here also he maintained a highly honourable standing, though, from the failure of his pecuniary resources, he was obliged to leave the institution a short time before he had completed his regular course. On the 11th of March, 1827, he was ordained Deacon in St. Michael's Church, Charleston, by the Kt. Eev. Bishop Bowen ; and on the 15th of March, 1829, he was, by the same Prelate, admitted to the Order of Priests, in Sheldon Church, Prince William's Parish. The first six months of his Diaconate he passed as a missionary in Green- ville, S. C, and though this was perhaps the least effective part of his min- istry, the Bishop, in his Charge, the next year, rendered a highly honourable testimony to his diligence and fidelity. In January, 1828, he accepted a call to the united charge of the Parishes of St. Luke and Prince William : neither parish reckoning itself able, independently, to sustain a Rector. Within two years, however, he resigned the charge of the latter, and con- fined his labours exclusively to the former. In this field he continued labouring with untiring diligence as well as marked success, until the 1st of November, 1836, when he became Rector of St. John's Church, on John's Island. He had accepted the call to this church about five months before he actually entered on his Rectorship ; and in the interval, so great was his concern that the people whom he was about to leave might be well provided for, that there was no clergyman free from parochial charge, whether in the Diocese or its immediate vicinity, who was not invited to his pulpit and his parsonage, in order that the congregation might have an opportunity of hearing and knowing those from among whom they were to select his successor. During the above named periods, he passed one sum- mer in charge of Grace Church, Sullivan's Island, and another as mission- ary in Spartanburg village. The principal motive which is said to have influenced Mr. Young in his acceptance of the call to the Church on John's Island, was a regard to the interests of the coloured population. In the parishes in which he had pre- viously laboured, especially in St. Luke's, he had succeeded in awakening so strong an interest in favour of the moral and religious instruction of the slaves, that he felt assured that it would not be imperilled by his removal ; but, on John's Island, little had been attempted in this department of benevolent effort, and he was strongly attracted thither by the prospect of being able to originate and direct an eflBcient movement on that subject. Nor were his expectations disappointed. He found not only his own con- gregation, but the planters belonging to other churches, more than willing to give him access to their slaves, and to co-operate with his plans for instructing them. Of his untiring perseverance and fidelity in this humble department of labour, something may be inferred from the fact that, " with the exceptions of Saturday and Sunday, he had some plantation appointment for every day in the year." On his acceptance of the charge of this parish, he found the congregation, in respect to both its accommodations for wor- ship and its attendance on religious services, at a low ebb ; but, in both THOMAS JOHN YOUNG. 689 respects, as well as in carrying out the ultimate and more spiritual ends of the ministry, his labours were instrumental in bringing about a most desi- rable change. The number of communicants reported in 1836 was seventy- two ; the number reported in 1847, was four hundred and fifty-seven ; and this increase was over and above such annual diminutions from deaths and removals as had largely exceeded all his previous experience in other places from similar causes. On the 6th of June, 1847, he became the Assistant Minister of St. Michael's Church, Charleston, — in the bosom of which he had passed his early days. In the sermon which he preached on his induction to this charge, he made the following' touching allusion to his early relations to the church : — " Bear with me a little longer, whilst I speak of the especial claim which he who addresses you has upon your forbearance, your sym- pathies, and your prayers. He enters upon an entirely new and untried field of labour. He leaves the quiet and retirement of a twenty years' ministry in the country, for the distractions, and temptations, and rivalries, of the city. The anxieties occasioned by the care of a small congregation, among whose members he went in and out, a part as it were of each household, are to be exchanged for the heavy burden which his present charge imposes, — a charge whose extent renders extremely difficult, if not almost impos- sible, that familiar acquaintance with the wants of each, so necessary for pastoral influence and success. Besides, Brethren, he is about to minister in this temple of the Lord, and among a people endeared to him by the fondest and most permanent of all associations, — those of boyhood and youth. It was at this altar, in early life, though within his own recollec- tion, that he was brought by Holy Baptism, from the midst of an evil world, and made a member of Christ, a child of God, and an inheritor of the Kingdom of Heaven. It was here that one who seemed to him as an angel of light, instructed him in those precious truths which he is now to impart to others. It was in this house, from this holy place in which he now stands, that the Word of God first reached his heart and awoke to life his slumbering spirit. It was at this altar that he renewed the solemn vow made for him at his Baptism. It was at this altar that he first fed upon that sacred food with which the Great Head of the Church strengthens and refreshes the souls of his redeemed ones ; and it was here, Brethren, that he received the commission to go forth and proclaim the glad tidings of salvation to the lost and ruined. He looks around him, and every pew and pillar, familiar as the lineaments of an early friend, carry him upward on the stream of time, and the days of boyhood are again before him.. But there is something wanting. He who first spake to him the words of eternal life, and he who laid his hand upon his head and blessed him in the- name of Jesus, and sent him forth to tell out the glad tidings of redemp- tion, now sleep beneath the altar-place, and these voices are hushed in death. Again, he looks around upon the assembled multitude, and of how many upon whom his eye once rested, may it be said, — ' the places which knew them shall know them no more forever.' A generation has passed away, and many a sorrowing heart in our midst can tell of the changes which thirty years have caused. Brethren, when he who addresses you thinks of the past, the Psalmist's words become his own — ' If I forget Vol. V. 87 ggO EPISCOPALIAN. thee, Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning; if I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth ; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy.' " Mr. Young very quickly showed himself abundantly adequate to the new and important sphere of labour to which he was now introduced. He made himself acquainted with all the families in his congregation, and while he was ever on the alert to carry the consolations of the Gospel to the sick and the sorrowful, he was no less ready to visit the healthy and the prosperous, always taking care to give to his visits to them also more or less the air of a Christian ministration. And here, as in his previous charges, his regard to the interests of the coloured people seemed to act itself out almost with the intensity of a ruling passion. As the number of this class who wished to attend his ministry outgrew the accommoda- tions at St. Michael's, with a view to make up for the deficiency, he estab- lished an additional weekly service expressly for them, which was held on Friday evenings in a private room, benevolently furnished by a member of the congregation. He collected a large Bible class of coloured girls ; and besides the instruction given them on one afternoon in each week, he had stated evenings for receiving such of them as were preparing for Con- firmation, and the holy ordinance of the Supper. He likewise gathered a large Sunday School of coloured children, which was taught at the close of the afternoon service. Indeed, he seems scarcely to have been at rest during his whole ministry, unless he was devising or carrying into effect some plan for enlightening the minds, reforming the lives, and saving the souls, of this unfortunate and too long neglected class of people. But BIr. Young's influence extended much beyond the parishes with which he was more immediately connected. He had much to do in ei-ect- ing church edifices ; in reorganizing decayed parishes and creating new ones ; in establishing parochial schools ; in directing the attention of promis- ing young men to the ministry, and in some instances in removing the pecu- niary obstacles which might otherwise have prevented their preparation for the sacred office. In the Convention of 1841, he was appointed one of a Committee of three to revise, and, if necessary, to redraft the Constitu- tion, the Canons, and the Rules of Order, of the Church. Of this Com- mittee he was the one selected to do the work. The results of this labour are the present Constitution, Canons, and Rules of Order of the Diocese. So early as in the Convention of 1836, there had been an effort to estab- lish a Diocesan School in South Carolina ; and this effort had been con- tinuously and unsuccessfully renewed at the succeeding Conventions, until that of 1841, when, by the appointment of a Committee of six clergymen and six laymen, with the Bishop as its Chairman, Mr. Young preached a Sermon on " The Duty of combining Religious Instruction with every sys- tem of Education." The effect of this Sermon was the immediate organi- zation of the Diocesan School. In the Diocesan Convention of 1838, he was elected a Delegate to the General Convention, and, at its next session, in Philadelphia, he took his seat among, the members of that Body. His election was renewed annually until 1850, when, owing to his impaired health and other circumstances, he declined to serve any longer. He was THOMAS JOHN YOUNG. 691 one of the originators of the Church Home, a highly benevolent institu- tion, and delivered the Address at its opening, in 1851. Mr. Young's whole ministerial life, though characterized by the most untiring zeal and devotion to his work, was an almost uninterrupted struggle with bodily infirmity. In 1849, his health had become so much reduced that it seemed imperative that he should separate himself, for a while, from the scene of his labours. Accordingly, he yielded to the wishes of his congregation who generously volunteered to pay the expenses of his tour, and made a brief visit, accompanied by his wife, to Europe. They left Charleston on the 5th of May, and reached it, on their return, on the 27th of November following, having, in the mean time, travelled in different parts of England, Scotland, Wales, and France, and experienced, in various quarters, the greatest hospitality and kindness. Though his system was somewhat invigorated by his European tour, and he resumed his labours with his accustomed interest and zeal, his tenden- cies were still manifestly towards decay. Early in the summer of 1852, there was a criminal, under sentence of death, in the Charleston jail, to whom Mr. Young had most kindly ministered on a former occasion, and in another place, and who especially requested that he might have the benefit of his services in preparing him for the final hour. He, accordingly, visited him frequently, and exerted himself to the utmost, — and not without appa- rent success, — to bring the poor creature to a knowledge and acceptance of the Saviour. As the time for his execution drew near, the criminal besought him to attend him in his last moments ; and though this required that he should make a trip to the country, which, at that season, was considered very hazardous, yet, taking counsel of his warm sympathies and his deep concern for the dying man, he forgot all personal considerations, and made the journey. He left home on the 30th of June, and returned on the 7th of July ; and, though he performed the sad and benevolent ofiice for which he went, the journey was made at the expense of contracting a disease (the country fever) which terminated his life. The fever, after some time, was subdued, but he had not vigSlir of constitution enough to rally ; and he died on the fifty-third day of his illness, October 11, 1852. His death- bed was a most serene, affecting and triumphant testimony to the all-sug- taining power of Divine grace, — well worthy to be the crown of a most devoted and self-sacrificing life. The most respectful notice was taken of his death in various quarters, and two Commemorative Discourses were preached in St. Michael's Church, — one by the Rector, the Rev. Paul Trapier Keith, another by the Rev. C. Wallace, both of which were pub- lished. A monument to his memory, erected in St. Michael's Church, bears the following inscription : — " To the memory of the Rev. Thomas John Young, Assistant Minister of St. Michael's Church, who was born Oct. 22, 1803, and died Oct. 11, 1852. " In his character were blended the affections that make the happiness of domestic life with the qualities that adorn the pastoral ofiice : a vigorous mind carefully cultivated ; a disposition earnest and firm, yet full of ten- derness ; a pure and holy life. He grasped the entire circle of his duties ; and disease, that wasted his strength for years, could not weaken his devotion to them. The goodness of Grod permitted him to crown the 592 EPISCOPALIAN. instructions of his life by the lessons of his death. Strong in Faith, Hope, and Love for his friends and people, he forgot nothing that concerned their welfare, and ceased his cares for Christ's Church on earth only when called to its joys in Heaven, where they that he wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars, forever and ever." On the 27th of April, 1828, Mr. Young was married to Anna Kebecca Grourdin, of Charleston. They had seven children, — five sons and two daughters. Mrs. Young and three sons still (1858) survive. The following is a list of Mr. Young's publications : — A Sermon on the Absolute Certainty of the Einal Triumph of the Gospel, 1829. A Ser- mon on the Duty of combining Religious Instruction with every System of Education, 1841. Remarks made in the Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the Diocese of South Carolina, on a proposed Amend- ment of the Constitution, (published in the Charleston Grospel Messenger,) 1842. A Sermon entitled " The Charities of the Church," 1850. An Address delivered at the Opening of the Church Home, 1851. The Aggressive Nature of the Gospel, and the Expansive Power of the Church : A Sermon preached on the occasion of the Third Jubilee of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, 1851. A Discourse entitled "The Time and Measure of Almsgiving." Besides the above, he contributed various articles, — Extracts from Sermons, Essays, and Criti- cisms, to the Charleston Gospel Messenger. Though I had no personal knowledge of Mr. Young, I have had a good opportunity, from an examination of some of his manuscripts, as well as from the testimony of those who knew him best, to form a judgment of his character ; and, from all the evidence that has been presented to me, I can- not doubt that he was an admirable specimen of a Man, a Christian, and a Minister. While his intellectual powers were evidently of a very high order, and his moral nature also of a fine generous stamp, his whole life, and especially his death, was a testimony to his utter oblivion of self, and his entire consecration to the service of his Master. Both in his labours and in his sufferings was clearly to be traced the influence of a ruling pas- sion — a love stronger than death to the souls especially of those who were committed to his care. The nobility of his character was in a course of progressive development through his whole Christian life. His path, ever brightening, became the brightest, at the connecting point between earth and Heaven. FEOM THE REV. JAMES "W. MILES, PBOVESSOR IN THE CHARLESTON COLLEGE. Charleston, S. C, May 18, 1858. Dear Sir : It is with pleasure that I respond to the request with which you have honoured me, although I cannot but regret the meagerness of the material which it is alone in my power to contribute. One so much the junior of Mr. Toung as myself can furnish no recollections of any value historically — thfese must be furnished by his contemporaries. lean only record the impressions left upon my memory and affections by the comparatively brief and occasional intercourse and friendship which it was my privilege to maintain with him. THOMAS JOHN YOUNG. 693 The earliest recollection of any personal intercourse with Mr. Young which I possess, is that of a visit to Rockville, made on behalf of a most mistaken and lU-starred, (as it proved to be,) although sincerely conceived and undertaken, scheme of a Mission to the Oriental Churches. During that visit, I enjoyed the hospitality of Mr. Young's house, and the hearty, generous Christian sympa- thy and support of Mr. Young himself and his excellent lady with regard to the objects of my visit. Young and immature, and wrapped up in a scheme, — a vision, as I then was, I should nevertheless have been strangely insensible, had I not been impressed with Mr. Young's fervent piety, pervading, like the principle of life itself, his whole being; with his sympathy with all which was good, — with his gentleness, his affectionate heart, his urbanity, his hospitality, his winning manners, and his appreciation of and love for learning. In after years, I not only found all those qualities in still riper perfection, but I learned to perceive in him the rarer, if not more universally appreciated, qual- ities of discriminating judgment, sound discretion, insight into character arid motives, and moral firmness, united with conciliation, the power of attracting affection and winning confidence, — all combined with genuine zeal and singular modesty. That he was laborious, minute, faithful, courageous, and yet tender, gentle, unweariedly patient and loTing, in the discharge of his official duties, is known to all; but all, perhaps, do not know, and would not know how to appreciate truly, the fact that, amidst the most absorbing and exhausting paro- chial cares; amidst the severest taxes upon time, and patience, and moral ener- gies; with an ear ever open to the humblest applicant for advice or sympathy; and thus amidst sometimes even unreasonable claims upon his time, he yet never neglected the constant cultivation of his intellect, nor relaxed in his pur- suit of solid information and learning. Of his actual acquirements T have neither the right nor the competency to judge; but, from my own pursuits, I think that I have a right to say that, relatively, his acquirements were far beyond those which any of his clerical brethren had made, who were at all engaged in any thing like the amount of official labours which devolved upon him. That he really practised and exemplified the religious and moral principles and advice which he inculcated upon others, was a decided trait of his charac- ter; and in his intercourse with his junior brethren, his modesty, kindness, consideration and affection were no less conspicuous than his deference and respect towards his seniors, even when it was evident that they were not always his superiors in wisdom and faithful laboriousness. His charity, in the highest sense of the term, was large and noble, and exhi- bited the rare and beautiful combination of the most decided views and princi- ples, ecclesiastical and theological, with the greatest toleration and the widest Christian sympathy, untinged by even the shadow of bigotry. Mr. Young was, therefore, one of the very few men to whom I should never have hesitated sub- mitting a view or opinion, however much I knew that it was at variance with his own maturely formed convictions. I would have felt sure of charity, kind- ness, uninterrupted friendship, and of a clear distinction made by his heart and wisdom between the man and the erroneous opinion. Such are some of the general but permanent recollections of Mr. Young's char- acter impressed upon my memory by the personal intercourse with him which I enjoyed. And perhaps these impressions may possess more value as testimony to the qualities really possessed by my lamented and respected friend, from the fact that, although my own ecclesiastical and theological views are totally differ- ent, in many respects, from those which he held, I yet would not abate one word which I have affirmed, and I feel deeply the loss of such a candid, generous and charitable friend, to whom I might freely confide, and with whom I could. 594 EPISCOPALIAN. without fcaV of being misunderstood or of losing his friendship, — freely discuss my peculiar views. The union in him of decided convictions and principles with the most compre- hensive charity consecrate him in my respect and affection, as a type of that highest style of man, — a Christian gentleman. Good Christians we often find, and yet as often, how narrow and bigoted! 6rOod gentlemen we often find, and yet as often, how deficient in a, comprehensive conception and practical adoption of positive Christianity! But the liarmonious union of the two characters is as rare as it is beautiful; and it can never fail to inalie an indelible impression upon every heart capable of a generous appreciation of character, whatever may be the difference of opinions and of intellectual convictions. If these " personal recollections " of the impression made upon one such hum- ble person as myself, by a man who must have impressed and won many hearts, can be of any value or use, among the many more important testimonies to his character and career, from sources which have a right to ^command attention, I shall feel honoured and grateful for having been permitted to contribute my lit- tle mite towards the memorial of him, who ever received me as a friend, and treated me as a brother. Respectfully and truly yours, J. W. MILES. FKOM MES. E. FLUDD. CHAKLESTOif, April 15, 1858. Dear Sir; In accordance with your request, I will endeavour to write out a few recollections of my dear lamented friend, the Rev. Thomas John Young — many such recollections are fresh enough in my mind, but my present physical weakness renders it difficult for me to mould them into a form suited to your purpose. And first, I will transcribe a leaf from my diary of 1838, because it i.s so characteristic of his kind, afi'ectionate and consoling ministrations to the sick. I was at that time lying very ill in Legareville, and Mr. Young, in com- pliance with my request, came from Rockville, a distance of many miles, to see me. I was, to all appearance, very near deatii, and was tempted to fear that, though my faith and hope in Christ were tlien so strong, they would fail me in the approaching conflict; and, having mentioned this fear to Mr. Young, he replied as follows: — " That suggestion comes from the enemy. Do you not know that when Jesus hung upon the cross. He cried, — 'My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me.'' Now, if Jesus our Lord was tempted thus by the enemy, while dying for our redemption, can we expect to escape being tempted ? But be of good courage, Jesus suffered, being tempted, that He might succour those who are tempted. Keep fast hold of your Saviour, and though Satan should follow you with temptations to your latest breath, yet he cannot prevail against you; for Jesus died triumphing over death and the grave, and by his help vou shall also triumph. Remember too that Christians are said to fall asleep in Jesus. Now what is it that sleeps.' Not the soul, because the soul cannot be dormant — no, it is the body that sleeps; and if our corruptible part is so well provided for that it is to sleep in Jesus till the Resurrection morn, how much more glorious must be the rest of the soul which is the image of God!" I remarked that I loved to think of Jesus as the Captain of my salvation. Mr. Young answered, — "Yes, and He not only leads on his soldiers, as other Captains do, but He goes before his army of saints, and does the hardest of the fighting for them. Ah, if we had to fight alone, we should soon faint in battle; but Jesus, our victorious Captain, both conquers for us and in us. And now that you are about to struggle with death, Satan, as far as he is permitted, will try to annoy you; but be not dismayed — he must conquer Jesus before he can THOMAS JOHN YOUNG- 695 conquer you; for your Captain will never leave you nor forsake you : He will go down with you into the swellings of Jordan, and will land you safe on Canaan's side." I told him that Jesus was always present with me, watched over me, and comforted me, as one is comforted of his mother. To which Mr. Young sweetly replied,— " Well, we are told 'He shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver.' The refiner sits by the reflning-pot, and watches it till his own image is perfectly reflected in the silver, and then removes it from the fire. Now just so God is dealing with you — He sits by you and tries you with pain and suffering, but as soon as He sees his own image sufficiently reflected in your soul. He will remove you from the fire of aflBiction and take you home to glory, where you will continue to grow brighter through eternity." I mentioned to him what I panted for, — to receive again those brilliant discoveries of the love and glory with which I had been favoured in a previous fit of illness. To this he replied, — " If God is now giving you such a clear, calm and peaceful entrance into life eternal, should you not be satisfied, and not desire those views of his glory which He sees best to witlihold fram you at this time ? Wait but a little— you will soon vanquish your last enemy, and as you resign this fleeting breath, those views which you now desire, will be lost in the excelling brightness that eternity will unfold to j'our enraptured vision." Mr. Young had a great gift in comforting the afliicted child of God, as well as in conversation on experimental religion in general; and I often recall some of the pleasant and profitable talks we used to enjoy in our social intercourse. And though we were personally attached to different bodies of Christians, J, a mem- ber of a Presbyterian church, and he, one of the Clergy of the Episcopal Church, our different views of the subject of Church pohty never occasioned the sem- blance of a jar in our fellowship as Christians, owning and loving one Lord, and bound for the same Heaven. that all Christians who are now divided by different names, parties, and communions, might be thus bound together by one Spirit. I remember with much pleasure some occasions on which I attended his mis- sionary ministrations among the negroes of the plantations on John's Island, — how faithfully he catechised and preached Christ unto them, and led the chorus of the hymns, as they swelled upon the air in loud and lively tones, such as our negroes know so well how to raise. And we know that he was instrumental of much good among them, as well as among his white congregations. His peculiarly mild, gentle and affectionate disposition not only greatly endeared him to his own immediate family and relatives, but secured to him a very large circle of warmly attached friends. But his great natural diflBdence and modesty made him appear reserved, and often rendered him silent, in the presence of strangers: it was only those wlio knew him intimately, who could fully appreciate all his extraordinary excellences. In regard to his intellectual powers and acquirements, there is no need for me to write, as there are many whose testimony on these points would be much better authority than mine. I will, therefore, only add that thougb he was a " High Churchman," or reputed so to be, I used frequently to unite with his congregation in receiving the sacramental elements from his hands, and that by invitation from him, extended to me as a sister in Christ, though he knew per- fectly well that I did not believe that the "Apostolic succession " belonged any more to his Church than to mine, or any other of the Gospel Churches now in existence. Thus we agreed to differ harmoniously in opinion, on what we both deemed points not essential to salvation, and to live practically as the disciples of Christ, and to unite in commemorating his dying love. I rejoice in the belief that we shall hereafter unite in singing " the song of Moses and the Lamb." I am, dear Sir, very truly yours, E. FLUDD. 69g EPISCOPALIAN. FROM ALFRED HT7GER, ESQ. Charleston, S. C, May 10, 1858. Dear Sir: There was a time when I could have written concerning the Rev. Thomas J. Young, of whom you ask for my recollections, with a good degree of confidence, and certainly with great satisfaction; but old age is upon me now, with some of its infirmities, and with all of its warnings. It would hare been easy for me to speak especially of his spiritual nature, because it was my privi- lege to be sensible of his spiritual influence. I was not indeed in every respect as closely connected with his ministry as he desired; but I was drawn to him as to a younger brother, and I listened to him as to an able and orthodox expounder of Christian doctrine. Mr. Young was eminently a man of a pure, disinterested and devout spirit. Without guile himself, he did not suspect it in others. His life, above that of almost any other man whom I have known, was given to the service of his Master; and it has ever been my firm conviction that he sacrificed his life in struggling to bring a wretched and friendless sinner to a consciousness of his own deplorable condition. Braving a pestilential atmosphere — unmindful of hi.s own feebleness — neglectful of his own comfort — undismayed by the chances of his own death, he sought the convict in his cell, and there, surrounded by dis- ease and misery, exhausted his little stock of strength, to render the judgment of human tribunals unappalling by exciting the hope of that mercy which is dispensed at the "High Chancery of Heaven." I will not say, with his eulo- gist, that he prayed " seven times a day;" for, according to my understanding, he may be said to have prayed but once during his sojourn here; and that "once" had its beginning in his early manhood, and found its termination in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. He was remarkable also for an humble and trusting spirit, leading him, as in the case I have already referred to, to the greatest self- denial and self-sacrifice. His intercourse was uniformly marked by the most con- siderate kindliness; and I always observed that in my conversations with him, even upon subjects on which I was fully conscious of my inferiority, he would do his utmost to keep me from being oppressed by the sense of it. He delighted especially to dwell upon the goodness of God, as manifested in the dispensations of Providence and Grace; and I recall some of his conversations on that subject, even to this day, which are alike grateful and instructive. "With a high sense of justice and an unswerving integrity, he was eminently a lover of peace; and if, at any time, painful differences arose among friends or neighbours, or any where within the circle of his influence, he could never rest until he had done his utmost to compose them. There was a beautiful correspondence between his personal and official character — between the lessons of the pulpit and the habit- ual inculcations of his life. He filled a wide space, and when he was taken to his rest, he left many a chasm which it .was not easy to fill. Very truly yours, ALFRED HUGER. WILLIAM CEOS"WELL. 597 WILLIAM CROSWELL, D. D * 1828—1851. William Croswell was the son of Harry (afterwards the Kev. Doe- tor) Croswelljt and Susan Sherman, his wife, and was born in Hudson, N. Y., November 7, 1804. When he was between nine and ten years of age, his father removed with his family to New Haven, where he became the Rector of Trinity Church ; and here, and in the immediate neighbourhood, the son passed his boyhood. He was for some little time a member of a family school taught by an Episcopal clergyman at East Haven ; but was subsequently removed to a select school kept by Joel Jones, since Presi- dent of Grirard College, Mayor of Philadelphia, &c. In this last men- tioned school he completed his preparation . for College. In 1818, he • Memoir by his father. — MS. from Sherman Croswell, Esq. t Harry Croswell was born at West Hartford, Conn., June 16, 1778. He received his early education under the Rev. Br. Perkins, then the Congregational minister of his native place, and Dr. Noah Webster. The first years of his manhood were devoted to secular pursuits ; and he was especially active in the political movements of the day. In 1802, he became editor ]ind proprietor of a newspaper at Hudson, N. Y., called " The Balance ;" and the scathing sar- casm of his editorials, and especially an article in a paper called ** The Wasp," subjected him to a civil prosecution; and one of Alexander Hamilton's most splendid efforts was made in his defence. He afterwards removed to Albany, N. Y., where he was connected, for some time, with a political newspaper. But, though he evinced great power as an editor, his thoughts were soon turned in a different direction ; and, having conformed to the Episcopal Church, he com- menced the study of Theology with a view to entering the ministry. He was baptized in St. Peter's Church, Albanj', July 19, 1812, and, on the following Sunday, received the rite of Con- firmation. He was admitted to Deacon's Orders by the Rt. Kev. Bishop llobart. May 8, 1814, in St John's Church, New York; and, on the following Sunday, commenced ministerial labours in Christ Church, Hudson. On the 1st of January, 1815, he commenced his services in New Haven, in an old wooden building standing in Church Street; and was instituted into the Rec- torship of the Parish on the Opening of the new Trinity Church, February 22, 1816. He was admitted to Priest's Orders in Christ Church, Middletown, Juno 6, 1815, by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Griswold. The honorary degree of Master of Arts was conferred upon him by Yale College, in 1817; and that of Doctor of Divinity, by Trinity College, in 1831. At the close of the forty- first year of his ministry in New Haven, January 1, 1856, he had ofSciated personally at two thousand, five hundred and fifty-three Baptisms, at eight hundred and thirty-seven Marriages, and at one thousand, eight hundred and forty-two Burials. Though in his later years he suf- fered not a little from bodily infirmity, he was enabled to continue his public labours till near the close of life. On the Sabbath but one preceding his death, he performed the usual services of both morning and afternoon, though he was then very feeble, and when he returned to his dwelling, seemed impressed with the idea that his work was done. He died on the 13th of March, 1858; and his Funeral Sermon was preached by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Williams. He, was a man of much more than ordinary powers, of fine social and moral qualities, and was greatly revered and beloved by his congregation as a Christian Minister. Dr. Croswell published a controversial pamphlet entitled ''A Sober Appeal to the Christian Public," about 1816 ; the Young Churchman's Guide, in four duodecimo volumes, designed for the use of Sunday Schools, and Bible Classes; A Manual of Family Prayers; A lilemoir of his son, the Rev. William Croswell, D. D. ; A Guide to the Holy Sacrament; [This consists of Lectures embodying instructions touching Baptism, Confirmation, and the Lord's Supper ;] and a Sermon preached on the Fortieth Anniversary of his Settlement in New Haven. ''He had,'? says his son, Sherman Croswell, Esq., "so systematized his routine of daily duty, in and out of doors, that, besides keeping up a very extended correspondence, visiting the sick, distributing aims to the poor, administering the Sacraments, and dispensing consolation to the afflicted, he has left a stock of sermons, numbering some fifteen hundred; a Diary running through fourteen closely written small quarto volumes, which he commenced in 1821, and continued until one week before he died; and some three hundred pages of manuscript, entitled "Annals of Trinity Parish • " in which he has traced the early struggles of the Church in New Haven for an existence, under the Rectorship of the Rev. Dr. Hubbard, with reminiscences of that devoted minister, his contemporaries of the Congregational denomination, of the Rev. Mr. Whitlock, my father s immediate predecessor, of Bishop Hobart, Bishop Griswold, Bishop Jarvis and others, — which, with his Diary, forms a complete history of the Parish, and of his connection with it. The ' Diary ' and the 'Annals,' extend through some five thousand, three hundred pages, which, in print, would cover full as many, and probably many more, in the ordinary octavo form." Vol. V. 88 698 EPISCOPALIAN. entered the Freshman class at Yale, when he was a few months less than fourteen years old ; and he graduated in 1822. He always maintained a good rank in his class, though he had not the reputation of being a very hard student. Shortly after his graduation, he, in connection with a brother, two years older, who had been his classmate in College, opened a select school in New Haven ; but, as this was not intended as a permanent occupation, it was soon abandoned. In 1824, he was engaged for a short time with his cousin, Edwin Croswell, Esq., as a sort of assistant editor of the Albany Argus ; but he was not satisfied with this, or indeed any other mere secular, employment ; and his mind seems never to have found rest, until it reposed in the fixed purpose of devoting himself to the Christian ministry. In October, 1826, he became a member of the General Theological Seminary in the city of New York. In consequence, however, of the failure of his health, he remained in the Seminary but a short time ; and early the ensuing year accepted an offer to become a joint editor with Bishop (then Professor) Doane, of the Episcopal Watchman, at Hartford. Here he pursued his theological studies in connection with his editorial labours ; and in the autumn of 1828, he was ordained Deacon, by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Brownell, in Trinity Church, New Haven. In May, 1829, he accepted the Rectorship of Christ Church, Boston ; and immediately after entered upon his official duties. Dr. Eaton, the former Rector, having resigned his charge. He was ordained Priest in June, and at the same time was formally introduced to his Rectorship. In the spring of 1840, he accepted a call to the Rectorship of St. Peter's Church, Auburn, N. Y.; and commenced his labours there early in June. On the 1st of October following, he was married to Amanda, daughter of Silas P. Tarbell, of Boston, by whom he had one child, who survived him. Notwithstanding his situation at Auburn was, in many respects, favour- able to both his comfort and usefulness, after having resided there some- what more than four years, he was induced, chiefly from considerations growing out of the state of his health and that of his family, to consent to return to Boston, and connect himself with a new enterprise, — the Church of the Advent. The enterprise proved a successful one, and his connec- tion with this church continued till the close of his life. His views in regard to some of the external arrangements of the church brought him in conflict with his Bishop, and led to a correspondence which has since been given to the world. In 1846, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by Trinity College, Hartford. The circumstances of Dr. Croswell's death were deeply affecting. He had returned home a few days before from a brief visit to his friends in Connecticut, and had engaged with great zeal in the accustomed duties of his parish. On Sabbath morning, the 9th of November, 1851, he took part in the usual Services of the church, though the sermon was preached by another clergyman. During the intermission, he seemed unusually cheerful and happy in the prospect of meeting his flock in the afternoon, and especially of delivering an address to the children in connection with WILLIAM CROSWELL. ggg the ordinance of Baptism. His sermon to the children was a beautiful performance, full of excellent instruction, and so simple as to be accommo- dated to a child's capacity. As he proceeded in the delivery, it was noticed that his voice occasionally faltered, and he several times placed his hand on the back of his head, in an unusual manner, as if he were suffer- ing pain. When he was about two-thirds through his manuscript, he abruptly closed his discourse, and then pronounced the first stanza of a hymn, which was sung by the choir. He stood as usual, facing the altar, during the singing, and at the close, knelt down at the chancel rail, and repeated from memory, — his book having fallen from his hand, — an appro- priate collect. But his strength was now so far exhausted that it was impossible for him to rise, and he therefore remained on his knees, and with a faltering voice pronounced the Apostolic benediction. A general alarm, by this time, pervaded the congregation. He was immediately taken into a carriage, and removed to his residence ; and being apprized by his physi- cians of the dangerous nature of his attack, he closed his eyes, and seemed to compose himself as if for his final rest. His venerable friend and father, the Rev. Dr. Eaton,* was soon at his side, and just as he had done oiFering the " Commendatory Prayer of the Church," it was perceived that the last breath had passed from his lips. The tidings of his death spread a gloom, not only throughout his immediate circle, but wherever he had been known. His Funeral was very numerously attended at Boston ; after which, his remains were removed to New Haven, where they were buried in the family lot in the New Haven cemetery. Commemorative Sermons were preached by several clergymen, especially Dr. Alexander Vinton of Bos- ton, Dr. Strong of G-reenfield, and Bishop Doane of New Jersey, all of which have been published in part or in whole. Some time after the death of Dr. Croswell, his venerable father, Dr. Croswell of New Haven, published an extended Memoir of him, containing * Asa Eaton was bom at Plaistow, N. H., July 25, 1778. His parents were Congregation - alists, and his early training was in that denomination. He graduated at Harvard College in 1803, shortly after which, he accepted an invitation from Christ Church, Boston, to become their lay reader. Having served the parish two years in this capacity, meanwhile prosecuting his theological studies, he went to New York in July, 1805, and was ordained both Deacon and Priest by Bishop Benjamin Moore, in Trinity Church. He now returned to the scene of his previous labours, and engaged with much zeal in the appropriate duties of the ministry. When the American Education Society was formed, he accepted the office of Secretary of its Board of Directors, and held it for several years. In January, 1815, he established the first Sunday i School ever established in Boston. He entered with great interest into the Home Missionary work, and in addition to his many parochial and other engagements, he accepted the Rectorship of Christ Church, C ambrid ge, which he held for a number of years, supplying his own pulpit by substitutes, from time' to time, that he might give to that a portion of his personal minis- trations. About the year 1820, he was a>fflicted with weakness of voice, which continued for several years, and finally led him to terminate his parochial relation to Christ Church, in 1829. But as he was, by no means, altogether disabled for public service, he commenced now the Free Church City Mission, — an enterprise which was crowned with large success. In 18.37, having accepted an appointment in connection with St. Mary's School, Burlington, he removed to the Diocese of New Jersey, Here he remained four years ; when, finding that the infirmities of age were coming upon him, he resigned the place, and returned to Boston, the scene of his early labours. He now lived in comparative retirement, though he held the office of Vice President of the Widows' and Orphans' Society, and was Treasurer of the Diocesan Convention for a num- ber of years, and also accepted the care and office of Rector of Trinity Church, Bridgewater, which he retained till the close of his life. One week before his death', he went to New Haven ■to attend the Funeral of his friend, the Rev. Dr. Croswell; but the fatigue and exposure proved too much for him, and immediately after his return home he was prostrated by an illness, which terminated fatally on Wednesday, the 24th of March, 1858. His Funeral was attended at the Church of the Advent, where he had been accustomed to worship and occasionally to min- ister. A Sermon, commemorative of his life and character, was subsequently preached in the same church by the Rev. Dr. Edson. He received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Columbia College in 1828. He published the History of Christ Church, Boston, 1828. 700 EPISCOPALIAN. not only a somewhat minute history of his life, but many of his productions, especially in poetry, most of which had been published before in various periodicals. He had strictly forbidden the publication of any of his ser- mons. FROM THE HON. JOEL JONES. Philadelphia, November 28, 1857. Rev. and dear Sir: I do not remember that I ever met the Rev. William Cros- well after the year 1821. He was then a member of Yale College. My acquaint- ance with him began in January, 1817. At that time, I was a member of the Senior Class, but, by permission of the Faculty, conducted a classical school in New Haven, of which William Croswell was a member. He was then about thirteen years old, but large in person for that age. In disposition he was very sprightly, very modest, and verjr lovely. I do not remember that he ever gave Occasion for serious reproof. His talents were of a superior order. He acquired his lessons with great ease. This gave him opportunity to indulge his taste for books and composition, which he did to a considerable extent. I remember that, on the approach of a public examination, he voluntarily composed a dialogue for the occasion, which would have been creditable to an older head and a more prac- tised pen. He was a good scholar. The rule of the school was to learn tho- roughly, and review often, and parse every word of any diflBcuIty in the lesson. This method ensured an accurate acquaintance with his grammars. After having been under my care about a year and a half, he entered College in the fall of 1818. Of his career in College I know less, but his earlier juvenile efforts gave promise of a successful literary career. My memor}' at times goes back with a melancholy pleasure to the little group in which William was a prominent figure, all of them bright, some of them bril- liant, and some of them cut down in the midst of usefulness and greater pro- mise. I will only add that I should not recognise the William I knew, in the mature, manly face prefixed to the Memoir of his life, prepared by his venerable father. But this is no marvel. The fortunes of life separated us early, and time and cares quickly transfigure all. I am very sincerely yours, JOEL JONES. FROM RICHARD H. DANA, JR., ESQ. Boston, June 6, 1852. Rev. and dear Sir: My knowledge of Dr. Croswell was confined to the last seven years of his life. During this period, his character and qualities as a parish priest received a peculiar development. On coming to Boston, he took charge of a new parish, organized upon a plan, and for purposes, which met his peculiar approbation, and enlisted his warmest sympathy. It was to be a church with free sittings, for rich and poor alike, free from all ungracious dis- tinctions or restrictions, and in which the Church was to be presented in her fulness as the daily Teacher and Comforter of the people, in all the circumstances and events of life. As soon as the church was in successful operation, he estab- lished the daily Morning and Evening Service, and every day, from that time until his death, he never failed, when in the city, to conduct these exercises, and to perform the fall Service, with the Communion, on Holy Days. He took a small and plain house near the church, (for his .salary, like his wants, was small,) and made it his business to become known to all the dwellers in that part of the city, as the man of God, ready at all hours to visit the poor and sick. WILLIAM CROSWELL 701 prisoners and the afflicted, and to minister to them not only the Word but the Sacraments. He was the unwearied visiter of the jail and hospital, and the large floating population of that section came to know the Church of the Advent as a place where religious services were constantly performed, and where a cler- gyman might always be found, whose life was devoted to the duties of a comforter and instructer of those "in anywise afflicted or disturbed in mind, body, or estate." Here he built up his reputation and influence on a foundation of good works J and his church became endeared to the common people, as one conse- crated to their interests, and where they could enter freely and daily, clear of all ungracious associations. At the same time, from principle, from attachment to his personal qualities, and from a regard to his merits and attainments as a scholar and poet, he carried along with him a considerable and influential body of laymen, of the educated and wealthy class, whose devotion to him and to his enterprise was as great as that of the humblest. Dr. Croswell was never ambitious of distinction as a preacher; nor indeed was it, to a great degree, on preaching that he relied for influence. His great object was to train up a congregation of worshippers, and to make the church a place where the congregation (according to the theory and letter of his Church Litur- gy) should be equal actors with himself in prayers, acts of worship and adora- tion, declarations of faith, hymns of praise, and in participation of the Sacraments and other holy ordinances. His congregation soon became remarkable for the unity and earnestness of its responsive or united worship, and the simplicity of its music, the constant and numerous attendants on the Sacraments and Daily Service, and for its systematic charities. His sermons were generally short, plain, and addressed to the hearts and understandings of all, and always scru pulously so to the young and the uneducated. He was never metaphysical or controversial, but always practical; and aimed at carrying great truths to the mind in the directest manner, or touching and influencing the heart. And, although a poet, he never used his poetic faculty for ornament, but as a natural mode of teaching or afiecting men through their associations or nicer instincts. His manner as a preacher was excellent. His voice was deep, firm, manly and pathetic; his intonation naturally musical, his figure large and commanding, his gesticulation simple, and his countenance full of earnest, fresh and benevolent expression. The elfect he left behind him was not applause, nor admiration of the performance, but a respect for the man and a consciousness of having learned some valuable truth, and having had your best and highest feelings touched and quickened. Dr. Croswell was truly the Christian Gentleman. His countenance was open and frank, with an expression of sentiment and delicacy from which you saw that, while he concealed nothing which others ought to know, he had yet that within which passeth show. He had a deep interior life; but that was not an indulgence, a pride, as it is with' many; for his external life was one of sacrifice and of modesty. He combined dignity with modesty, self-respect and reserve with freshness and afiability, in a manner which no artificial rules, no imitation, no system of manners, can approximate to. It was the result of the forces of his character. I never saw a man who had more undoubting confidence in the truth of his own faith, nor do I know one who makes religion more than he did a matter of life and conduct. No man ever lived, — I should say, no man ever lived in my world, to whom more truly belonged the beautiful language he was so fond of repeating, — " The confidence of a certain faith, the comfort of a reasonable, reli- gious and holy hope, in favour with thee our God, and in perfect charity with all the world." Believe me, with great regard. Your obedient servant, EICHAKD H. DANA, JK. 702 EPISCOPALIAN. FROM THE KT. REV- G. W. DOANE, D. D., LL. D. Riverside, December 28, 1857 My dear Sir: Of Dr. Oroswell, concerning whom 3'ou ask for my recollections, I can speal£ out of a full heart, as an endearing intimacy existed between us many years. It devolved on me to render a funeral tribute to his extraordinary worth, in the church where he had ministered, and in the presence of his bereaved congregation. I would say, in the first place, that Dr. Oroswell was emphatically " a man of love." His heart was large enough to take in all the world. His generosity was unbounded. And his kindness was as considerate and delicate in all its details, as it was boundless in its comprehension. He knew the very thing to do, the very word to say, the very time and place to do it and to say it. And his faith was equal with his love. He did not fix the time for his results. He would go on and find them when they came. Then he was wonderful in his humility. He esteemed every other better than himself. He cared not what the service was, so he could do it; or for whom it was, so it would be received. And from his humility there sprang a beautiful simplicity, which was a letter of universal commendation. He was a gentleman not only, but the gentlest man. No man ever was more acceptable to the refined and intellectual. No man had, ever, easier access to the poor, the ignorant, the vicious, the degraded. He won their confidence at once. And the more they saw of him, the more they trusted. He was so considerate of their feelings. He was so charitable to their infirmities. He was so constant in his assiduity. He knew the strings in every broken heart; and had from God the medicine to heal their hearts. He seemed a ministering angel to them; and they glorified God in him. But especially, he was so unreserved in his self-sacrifice. One says of him, — " Dr. Oroswell was instant in season and out of season. He never was known to refuse any call for service or duty." And another, than whom no living man knows better what Christ's servant with the poor should be,* speaks thus of him, in words, which, coming from the heart, go to it — " How they loved him ! Be- cause he was like his Master. Of Him he had learned to be pitiful, to be cour- teous to the poorest, to the humblest. How hard it is to be like him ; so true, so simple in doing good ! The distance was never too great for him to go, to do good, for Christ's sake — the storm was never too severe for him to find his way through it, to relieve a tossed and beaten sufferer — the night was never too late nor too dark, for him to find his way, to bear the cross, with its consolations, to the bed of death." How plainly I can see him now, with his old cloak wrap- ped about him, which he would gladly have given to the next poor man, if he had thought it good enough for him; and with his huge overshoes, which, when he put them on so deliberately, would always bring to mind what the Apostle said about having the " feet shod with the preparation of the Gospel of Peace." As he set out upon his ministry of mercy, you might think him very slow, and doubt if he would find his way, and wonder when he would get back, or if he ever would. But ere he slept, he would have threaded every darkest and mnst doleful lane in the most destitute quarter of the city, dived into cellars, and climbed garrets, comforted a lonely widow, prayed by a dying sailor, adminis- tered the Communion to an old bed-ridden woman, carried some bread toafamily of half starved children, engaged a mother to be sure and send her youngest daughter to an infant school, and " made a sunshine" in the shadiest places of human suffering and sorrow. And when all this was done, if he had time for it, he would charm the most refined and intellectual with his delightful conversation, and his pure and hm- * The Kev. E. M. P. Welle, of Boston; the poor man's Priest. "WILLIAM CROSWELL. 703 bent playfulness. AVitli a manner that seemed quite too quiet, there was an under-current of ceaseless irrepressible activity; and brightest thoughts in happiest words were ever oozing out, like fragrant gums from some East Indian tree, as soft, as sweet, as balmy, as balsamic. " He was a .scholar, and a ripe and good one." I may add as justly "exceeding wise, fair spoken and persuading." He had an intuition for good books, and the best parts of them; as he had also for good men. With all he did, and with the little that he seemed to do — the very reverse of Chaucer's Sergeant, who "seemed busier than he was,"— he was at home in all good English learning, with perfect mastery among the poets. His classical attainments were much beyond the average. He was a well read divine; and, beyond any man I knew, " mighty in the Scriptures," and skilful in his application of them. His sermons were entirely practical. The object of his preaching was apparent always — to make men better. He sunk himself entirely in his theme, — Christ Jesus and Him crucified. He had no man- ner. Yet the perfect conviction which he carried with him from the first, that he was really in earnest, made him attractive to all sorts of people, high and low, rich and poor, wise and simple, ignorant and learned, and made him pro- fitable to all. And, whatever his discourse might be, in matter or in manner, there was the cogent application always, of a holy and consistent life. His habits were simple, almost to severity. " Having food and raiment," he was " there- with content." "What remained after necessities were met, was so much for the poor. He was a Churchman, of the noblest pattern. A Churchman of the Bible and of the Prayer Book. A Churchman with Andrews, and Taylor, and "Wilson. If he was least tolerant of any form of error, it was that of Papal Rome. He would have burned, if need had been, with Latimer and Ridley. He made no compromise with novelties, but always said " the old is better." There was no place for the fantastic in his Churchmanship; it was taken up too much with daily work, and daily prayer, and daily caring for the poor. There was no antagonism between his poetry and his practice. His poetry was prac- tical. It was the way flower of his daily life; its violet, its cowslip, or its pansy. It sprang up where he walked. You could not get a letter from him, though made up of the details of business, or the household trifles of his hearth, that some sweet thought (as natural as it was beautiful) would not bubble up above the surface with prismatic hues that marked it his. His heart was wholly in the priesthood. He loved to pray. He loved to minister the Sacrament. He loved to preach. He loved to catechise the children. And when he lifted up his manly voice in the old hymns and anthems of the Church, it seemed as if a strain of the eternal worship had strayed down from Heaven. He was so modest and retiring that few knew him well. But there is no one that knew him well, that will not say with me, — " "We shall not look upon his like again." If he excelled in any one relation, after his service to Christ's poor, it was in all the acts and offices of friendship. He was a perfect friend. So delicate, so thoughtful, so loving, so constant. " More than my brother" for a quarter of a century', I dare not trust myself to speak of what he was to me; of what I know I was to him. I never heard words spoken with sincerer pleasure than when, shortly after his death, his old heroic father, — who might well declare with aged Ormond, that " he would not exchange his dead son for any living son in Chris- tendom," — said to the coachman, who had driven us out together to weep at his grave, — " This is the Bishop of New Jersey, — the best friend that my son ever had on earth." I would not covet for my child a richer earthly treasure, or a higher human praise, than to be "William Croswell's best and dearest friend. With true respect and affection, Dear Dr. Sprague, Your faithful friend, G. W. DOANE. 704 EPISCOPALIAN. WILLIAM M. JACKSON. 1831—1855. FROM THE RT. REV. JOHN JOHNS, D. D., ASSISTAST BISHOP OF THE DIOCESE OF VIRGIHIA. Malvern, May 18, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir : In complying with your request for some account of the Rev. William M. Jackson, allow me to say, as indicating the sources of my information concerning him, that for thirteen years previous to his death, I sustained to him the relation of Diocesan, and that my acquaintance with him was for a still longer period. For incidents of which I have no per- sonal knowledge, I am indebted to others on whose representations every reliance may be placed. William M. Jackson was born in the city of Baltimore, in the year 1809. His father, Mr. J. Edward Jackson, with his younger brother, came to this country as agents of their father, who resided in Tutbury, England, where he conducted a large manufactory, and was deservedly esteemed for his exemplary piety. Both of these brothers relinquished their secular calling, and became ministers in the Protestant Episcopal Church. Of William, the younger brother, I understand you design to furnish a distinct memorial. Mr. J. Edward Jackson, the elder of the two, removed to the city of Baltimore, and engaged in mercantile pur- suits, till in the year 1824, when, " being of good report," and commended by all the requisite testimonials of character and capability, he was ordained by the Rt. Rev. James Kemp, D. D. Soon after his ordination he became the Rector of Christ Church, Winchester, Va. When he commenced his services there, the building occupied by the congregation was quite homely in appearance, and very limited in capacity, though large enough to accom- modate the worshippers. At his removal, he left a large congregation in the occupancy of an edifice which, for convenience and taste, will compare favourably with the churches of the Diocese. From Winchester, he removed to Henderson, Ky., where he was soon prostrated by paralysis. Of the other parent, — the mother of William M. Jacl:son, it is only proper to state that she cordially sympathized with her excellent hus- band in the transition from secular to clerical life, and proved herself an efficient help-meet in all the services and trials incident to the parochial ministry. Blessed with such parents, the subject of this sketch enjoyed the ines- timable benefit of early Christian instruction, imparted not in the formal superficial mode, practised by many who profess amd call themselves Chris- tians, but with the cordial faith and fervent prayer which bring it within the limits of the covenant, and connect it with the sure blessing of G-od. When, precisely, the saving influence of Divine truth was first con- sciously experienced by this youth, and expressed decidedly in his life, it may not now be possible to determine. At about the age of fifteen, he became a student in Washington College, Chestertown, Md. His uncle Wil- WILLIAM M. JACKSON. 705 liam was then residing there, as the minister of St. Paul's Church, and of his family the nephew was privileged to become an inmate. The estimable Christian lady who was at the head of this household, who left the impres- sion of her religious life on all with whom she had intercourse, and to whom, under God, young Jackson was no doubt largely indebted for the maturing of his pious purpose, — thus writes of him in one of her let- ters recently published: — "He was living with us, when, at about fif- teen, he was first led seriously to seek the salvation of his soul; and I can never forget the intense interest with which we watched the opera- tions of Divine grace in the renewal of a heart, which, to judge from the outward conduct, was like that of the young man in the Gospel, naturally; most pure, amiable and lovely. Some would say that this per- haps was a case in which a change of heart could not be needed, but as we silently and thankfully observed his growing love for, and diligence in, searching the Scriptures and prayer, it soon became manifest that a great change had indeed passed over him. His application to his studies had received an impetus which surprised his teachers ; but we were not ignorant of the secret spring. He had been taught to realize that the great end of his being was to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. He had learned that he was not his own, 'but bought with a price,' and henceforth the ardent desire of his heart was to be permitted and prepared to proclaim that Saviour to others, who had become so precious to his own soul. This was the noble incentive which nerved him to become a student, and to occupy, until his Lord should come, such talents as He gave him. It was beauti- ful to us to observe, even at that early age, the many little devices he had for present good to others, at the same time that the love of Christ was constraining him to prepare for future usefulness." The legitimate effect of Divine grace upon the heart is to enlarge it with sympathy for those who are strangers to this blessing, and to prompt to suitable efforts that they too may taste that the Lord is gracious ; and so we find that the saving change in young Jackson was soon accompanied by the earnest purpose to devote himself to the service of his Saviour in the ministry of reconciliation. In pursuance of this purpose, in 1829, he entered the Theological Semi- nary of the Diocese of Virginia, and assiduously prosecuted, to its com- pletion, the course of study there prescribed. During his connection with this institution, his warmth of heart and cheerfulness of spirit made him a^ favourite with all his associates, and his bearing and habits as a student secured for him the respect and affection of his Professors. The late Kev. Mr. Adie, of Leesburg, who was a fellow-student of Mr. Jackson's, relates,, in a Funeral Sermon, the following particulars illustrative of his spirit while in the Seminary : — " No difficulties discouraged him, no trials served to embarrass him.. His purpose was fixed and settled, and he seemed to say, in the greatest straits, — ' I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.' I well remember several incidents which occurred, illustrative of his charac- ter. Being desirous of making himself acquainted, to some extent, with^ the Syriac language, as one of the cognates of the Hebrew, which he was- studying, he could not conveniently procure a grammar of that language,. Vol. V. 89 706 EPISCOPALIAN. save an old Oxford or Cambridge edition in Latin. This, to most persons, would have suggested the idea of abandoning his purpose, as there was no requisition of the Faculty, making it either necessary or desirable. But our young friend las he then was) sat him down deliberately to translate the Latin-Syriao grammar into English, that he might facilitate the acqui- sition of that dif&cult and very rare language even among divines. I have often related another incident illustrative of the same fact. It was a requirement of the Institution that each student of the Senior class should prepare a sermon fqr delivery before the Faculty and students, which was afterwards put into the hands of one of the Professors for criticism. His first sermon, in regular course, fell into the hands of the Senior Pro- fessor, who, for some kind reasons, was more than usually rigid in his criti- cisms upon it, — so much so, that it excited the sympathies, and even the indignation, of some of his fellow-students. We all returned from the scene with more or less of pain and regret for what we regarded undue severity. When we were met by our noble brother, it was not only with cheerfulness, but mirth, having felt no other emotions but those of grati- tude to the Professor, and a firmer resolution to persevere, and, if possible, overcome the faults which had been thus pointed out by the apparently merciless critic. I have no doubt that this ordeal, so wisely improved, was one means of securing his success in his subsequent ministry." Having finished the course in the Seminary, Mr. Jackson was ordained Deacon in July, 1831, in Christ Church, Alexandria, by the Rt. Eev. K. C. Moore, D. D., and, at the expiration of the diaconate year, was, at the same place, and by the same Bishop, admitted to Priest's Orders. For about ten years after his ordination, a section of the Valley of Vir- ginia was the scene of his labours. During this period, he officiated first &B Assistant Minister of Frederick parish, then as Eectorof Grace Church, Berryville, and afterwards as Rector of Wickliff parish, Frederick and Jefferson Counties, — situations which plainly indicated the estimation in which he was held during those early days of his ministry. At a later period, referring to those days, he writes, — " It was in the spring of 18 — , when I preached my first sermon to the congregation of parish, from ■the text, — 'We preach Christ crucified.' Alas! how little did I then know of the true method of preaching a crucified Saviour, so as to make it the grand characteristic of my ministry ! After service I returned to my room with a load of sadness on my spirit. Every thing was new and strange. The work before me was great, for I perceived, from the size and appearance of that congregation, that the duties devolving upon me would be arduous and responsible. Never have I forgotten a cheering voice which bade me welcome, with the hope that my ministry would prove a blessing to the congregation. The morning of the following day brought with it peculiar feelings. The long wished for time had arrived, and here I am, fully installed into the sacred functions of the Gospel ministry. My work has begun ! And what a work was it ! so many new acquaintances to form ; the sick to be visited ; the poor to be cared for ; plans of Christian benevolence to be devised, and executed ; and the most responsible and difficult work of all, preparation for the pulpit to be made. All these clustered around me on the morning of that day. Hitherto I had boon "WILLIAM M JACKSON. 707 able to devote weeks aud months to the preparation of a sermon ; now the work must be done in less than seven days— yes, the subject studied thor- oughly, well digested, and the entire sermon prepared. Well did Dr. Johnson say, ' I pity that man who enters the ministry, hoping to find it an easy life, and I pity that minister who makes it an easy life.' " During his residence in the Valley, Mr. Jackson was married to Mary Anna Hopkins, of Winchester, Va., a lovely lady, and happily suited to the sphere to which she was now introduced. It was her pleasure to sustain and animate her husband in his work of the ministry, and with maternal love and tenderness to share with him in the Christian nurture of the four children who were given them of the Lord. In the year 1841, we find Mr. Jackson officiating in three of the country churches in the vicinity of Charlottesville, where he remained till 1844. During one of these years, he was connected with the University of Vir- ginia, as Chaplain, preaching in the morning at the University, and at one of the country churches in the afternoon, — services which must have required much bodily as well as mental exertion. The churches were remote, the country exceedingly rough, and one of the congregations was as intellec- tual in its character, and called for as elaborate preparation, as any in the land. Yet he not only met his appointments with punctuality, but sustained himself to the satisfaction of the people. His preaching was very accept- able both in town and in the country. By one of the Professors of the University who was accustomed to listen to him, his sermons were compli- mented by a comparison, from which, if it ever reached the preacher's ears, his modesty must have recoiled. In 1844, Mr. Jackson was invited to Meade Parish, Middleburg, Lou- doun County, where, as usual, he gained a lasting hold on the affections of his parishioners. There he continued his labours until, in 1847, he was invited to Norfolk, and became the Rector of St. Paul's Church. God knows how to select and how to educate those whom He calls and commissions for his work. Mr. Jackson was, by nature, intelligent, calm, cheerful, brave, and persevering, with systematic diligence. His mental endowments he had cultivated with steady studiousness, year by year ; thus surely reaching to an intellectual vigour and fruitfulness, which gave to his public ministrations their attractiveness and force, and rendered his social intercourse both entertaining and instructive. His personal habits favoured his mental improvement ; for though they savoured nothing of austerity, yet they were formed on principles of purest temperance. Constitutionally composed and firm, these natural endowments sanctified and elevated by Divine grace, rose into genuine Christian magnanimity and courage. Nor did he lack the training which is to be had only in the school of affliction. Once he was thrown with violence from his horse against a projecting rail, which, striking him just at the junction of the nose and forehead, so stripped the scalp on one side that, when he was taken up, it was hanging over the ear. A fatal issue was apprehended — but no — not yet. His Master had further need of him, and had only brought him suddenly to the 708 EPISCOPALIAN. very portal of death, for the henefit of the discipline, as preparatory to ulterior and more important services. In Charlottesville he was bereaved of the excellent and lovely lady, who shared his comforts and his cares, and was dearer to him than life itself ; an affliction which rent his very heart, but under which he bowed with unmurmuring submission, and received the support, and solace, and profit, pledged to filial faith and meek Tesignation. But this was not all — it was wave upon wave — first one, then another, of his engaging children was taken, and he was called on to resign them to their early tomb in the cemetery at Alexandria, where they sleep by the side of their sainted mother. But, in the midst of all this mourning, he was not like her who was " weeping for her children, and would not be comforted because they were not." The utterance of his lips was the true language of his heart — "the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord." He " would have fainted, had he not believed," but he did believe, and the Lord sustained him. But whence, and why this succession of severe visitations 1 They were not casual, but appointed, and graduated, by the Father of mercies and Grod of all comfort, who comforted him in all his tribulation, that he might be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith he himself had been comforted. It was part of the system of training for further and peculiar service. It wrought in him that kind and degree of experience which can be learned in no other school. It opened up foun- tains of sympathy which nothing else can loose. It softened his manly character by the diffusion of a -spirit of tenderness, which specially fitted him for the scenes of sorrow in which he was destined to move. We see how God endowed and fashioned him for his work, and sent him thus prepared " to do, or die ;" and he did both. Norfolk, during the spring and early part of the summer of 1855, pre- sented to the eye of the intelligent observer, the interesting aspect of a venerable borough, which was hopefully beginning to renew its youth. The population and wealth were advancing with a healthy growth. Business, in its various legitimate forms, was pursued with increasing spirit and suc- cess. The community at large appeared to be pervaded by a kind and generous spirit, which united it in pleasing bonds and harmonious action. A large proportion of its citizens were living in an exemplary degree under the influence of religion ; separated into various congregations, yet hold- ing one Head, and acting as members one of another ; ministered to by pastors who watched for souls, as they that must give an account, and hav- ing no greater joy than to see their people " walk in the truth " — the whole exhibiting an attractive spectacle of civil, social, and religious prosperity. In a few days, this most pleasing prospect was sadly changed. The pes- tilence, which walketh in darkness, and wasteth at noonday, breathed its poisonous breath into the atmosphere, and the fatal infection spread from square to square, from house to house, till scarce an habitation escaped the dreadful scourge. All business was arrested ; stores closed ; streets deserted; the borough, recently so flourishing, became an hospital, and its suburbs a cemetery. Those who could, fled. Of those who remained there were scarcely enough sufficiently well, to serve the sick, or give the WILLIAM M. JACKSON. 709 dead a decent interment. No sound was heard in the streets, but the tread of those on their rounds of mercy, or the rumble of the hearse on its way to the grave. The churches were closed for want of worshippers. Minis- ters, no longer needed in their pulpits, were occupied day and night, — from place to place, — consoling the bereaved, sustaining the dying, burying the dead — " earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust." At distant points, thousands of the dispersed waited in painful anxiety the daily report of the fearful havoc ; some of them stricken to the heart by every reverberation which reached them. Throughout the State, throughout the country, inces- sant prayer was ascending to Him with whom are the issues of life and death, to stay the desolating plague, and spare the people. Such was the lamentable condition of Norfolk, during the last few weeks of the life and labours of Mr. Jackson. The relationship which obtains between a devoted pastor and an attached people, forms a bond of no earthly texture. It is woven by the hand of Jesus ; dyed with his own precious blood ; strong but tender in its struc- ture, like his own delightfully constraining love, with which it is redolent ; separable by no created power, but perpetual as his own everlasting nature. Such was the sacred tie which kept Mr. Jackson at his post of danger, when thousands were scattered abroad in quest of safety, and of those who remained scores were daily sinking around him. He certainly was not insensible to the exposure. He felt and thought for others, who had no call to continue. This is apparent in his judicious action in the case of those of his own household. For these he was wisely careful, and ceased not his exertions, till he had placed them on board the boa,t which was to convey them beyond the danger. As he bade them an affectionate fare- well, and turned to plunge into the infected atmosphere, and retrace his steps to his deserted home, he exclaimed — '■'Now I o.m free to go to my duty.''' What a noble specimen of Christian devotion and true heroism ! No parade, no excitement to stimulate and rouse to artificial action — not even the presence of beloved kindred left, to sustain, and animate, and comfort him by their sympathy and service. No ! he had deliberately dis- entangled himself of them, that he might please Him, who had chosen him to be a soldier, and, disembarrassed, spend and be spent in the service of the beloved people for whose defence he had been set. What he endured in mind and body during the prevalence of that fear- ful pestilence, visiting incessantly from house to house, from chamber to chamber, from couch to couch, watching, counselling and praying, with the sick and the dying around him, — often, when exhausted on his way to his lonely home, met by messenger after messenger to summon him to newly stricken ones — what he thus endured, from day to day and night to night will never fully appear till it stands disclosed at the last day. Whilst he was engaged in these extraordinary services, he was animated and encouraged by frequent letters of deepest sympathy, and assurances of earnest supplication for his safety and usefulness. From his replies, the following extracts are given, expressing the state of his own mind in con- nection with the peculiar trials in which he was placed. In answer to a letter from Bishop Meade, he writes, — "I had always regarded it as the duty of a minister to remain with his people under such 710 EPISCOPALIAN. circumstances, but never before deemed it a privilege. Such I now find it indeed to be. Good must come out of this — good has already come ; I can see it, and hear it." The letter which follows is in reply to one addressed to him by myself: — NoiiFOiK, August 7, 1855. Mt dear Bishop: Your letter, so full of sympathy and kindness, came, like a cordial to my spirit this morning. I had just returned, sad and depressed, from my yisits to the sick and the afflicted, and with a heavier load, from hearing, before I entered the house, of other cases which called for my attention this afternoon. It would be a difBcult task to draw a picture of the state of things in this afflicted community. To walk through the streets, and see the warehouses closed, dwellings deserted and all business laid aside, — would give but a meagre idea of the suffering which exists. It would be necessary to enter dwellings which had not been deserted in the panic, to know the full extent of this fearful visitation. It is said that five hundred persons are, at this moment, sick of the prevail- ing disease. The remark of Dr. Rush has been singularly verified in the Yel- low Fever, as it now exists among us, that " it is such a tyrant that it compels all other diseases to wear its livery." But, amidst the gloom which overhangs the city, and the fearful march of the Destroyer, — ovei-leaping, as it has done, the bounds which had, heretofore, arrested its progress, it is delightful to see the perfect calm which rests upon the spirits of our people. The panic which, for three weeks, had so agitated the whole population, has subsided, and in the few who remain, (I speak more particularly of our Christian friends and acquaint- ances,) you can plainly see that they have committed the keeping of their bodies, as they have done that of their souls, to Him whose faithfulness reacheth unto the clouds. I am sure they will be better Christians for the exercise of their faith. I could write much that would interest you, but in truth have neither time nor spirit. I am, my dear Bishop, Very affectionately yours, WILLIAM M. JACKSON. It would be doing injustice to the subject of this sketch, not to introduce into it parts at least of extracts from his correspondence, as found in "the Memorial," by the Kev. Gr. D. Cummins, D. D. August 9. Mr. Jackson writes to his son, — " I am so rejoiced that you were able to get off yesterday. To-day there is no boat ; and persons who wish to leave the city are in much trouble how to get off. The fever, or plague, or whatever it is, is spreading. But do not be uneasy ; duty demands my presence here, and I should be unhappy if I were absent from my post. I buried Mrs. B. last night, in the stillness, and dark- ness, and gloom of night, between ten and eleven o'clock. It was a deeply solemn occasion. August 13. He writes to his mother, — " Our city is almost depopula- ted, and my congregation have nearly all deserted me ; but it is a great pleasure to be able to speak words of comfort to the sick and dying. I am rejoiced that I did not go away " August 15. Mr. Jackson writes to a friend. — " The whole city wears the appearance of Sabbath. No noise, no business ; the warehouses closed, trade suspended, houses deserted, music hushed. All this is gloomy enough. I intend converting my parlour into a chapel for our evening service. The pleasure I have in being able to sit beside the diseased and ■WILLIAM M. JACKSON. 711 suffering is greater than I can tell yoii. I would not be absent on any account." August 17. " Attended a funeral this morning, at six o'clock. I am exceedingly tired and faint at heart. Still we have much, very much, for which to be thankful. I look for a blessing upon our Church and commu- nity through this painful visitation." August 18. " I am endeavouring to take all due care of myself. Nevertheless, I am far from thinking myself beyond the reach of danger ; and then, having to attend funerals early in the morning, and late at night, taxes my strength very heavily." August 19. He writes to his mother, — " God grant, my dear mother, that this terrible scourge may soon be arrested in its work of death. During the past few days, it has entered the circle of our friends. This will startle and grieve you, but let it not shake your trust in our Heavenly Father. The shafts of death, which are flying in every direction through the community, do not fly at random — every shaft has its aim, and is ordered and directed by One who never errs. That we are in danger, very great danger, I may not deny ; but what then ? We are in a Father's hand — ' Ky times are in thy hands, 'My God; 1 wish them there!' If He has more work for me to do upon earth, my life will be spared ; if not, why should I wish to live? Do not, I beseech you, give way to any unnecessary anxiety on my account. I am in the path of duty and Chris- tian love. August 28. To a friend, — " Yesterday and to-day have been dark days. With scarce an hour's intermission, except at night, I have been beside the sick and dying, and the graves of the dead. I have just returned from that afflicted city across the river, desolate, deserted and sorely stricken, whither I had gone to attend the funeral of a young lady, not of my own congregation. The last act of yesterday was to sit by the dying E. T., and repeat to her that sweet hymn : — , ' Jesus, Saviour of my soul ." I had been compelled, in order to see her, to hasten from the side of two young Christians, two sisters, who, in the prospect of death, were as calm and almost as joyous, as if they were going to a bridal. Indeed, it is a rare privilege to be here. The panic, which had so agitated the whole community, has subsided, and in those who remain we see the evidences, and hear the utterances, of a peaceful trust in God's righteous will, and almighty power. It is faith in exercise." August 29. To his mother, he writes, — " All this morning occupied with making provision for the orphan children. Hunted up nurses for the sick ; distributed money to the poor. Again I must beg you not to give yourself uneasiness on my account. If it were not for duty, inclination would certainly keep me here to minister to the afflicted. Blessed thought ! that I have such a God and Saviour to trust in ; and when we think of the treasures in Heaven, may we not say, — ' to die is gain !' What is faith, what is life, what is strength, if not to be exercised and employed, at just such a time as this ?" 712 EPISCOPALIAN. September 1. He writes to a friend, — " Yesterday and the day before were awful days. Eighty persons were swept off, and amongst them some valued friends, and most useful members of the Church and of the com- munity. Last night the destroyer entered my own house. M. (a servant) was taken with all the symptoms. September 19. To a friend he writes, — " I thank you for your very Mnd and most cheering note. It is most gratifying, and it is animating to us, to know that Christian friends, far away from this awful scene, are remembering us at the mercy-seat. I must believe that these prayers have been answered. What else but sustaining grace, vouchsafed in answer to the supplications of our friends at a distance, and at home, could thus have nerved us for this time of fiery trial ? My own disposition is natu- rally timid ; but I have not known what fear was, since the pestilence came among us. I do feel that Grod has verified to me his own blessed promise, — 'As thy days, so shall thy strength be.' All the other minis- ters of the city, except myself, are in bed from exhaustion or disease." So he persevered in his self-denying labours of love to the close of the afflictive dispensation — self-denying, in many respects, those labours unquestionably were, yet it is evident, from his letters, that he would not have exchanged them for the rest and exemption from exposure which other situations would have afforded. If the scenes through which he was passing had uncommon trials, they must have abounded also with un- common spiritual consolations. To be permitted to direct those anxiously inquiring the way of salvation, — to strengthen the weak, and encour- age the timid, in their conflicts, — thus to smooth their passage into the dark valley, laying them gently into the arms of the good Shepherd, and catching from their trembling lips, as they departed, the triumphant testi- mony to the Saviour's all-sufBoiency, — ' Death, where is thy sting, Grave, where is thy victory ?'— who can estimate the preciousness of these things to the affectionate heart of a faithful minister — how they must have alleviated the labour, and refreshed the spirit for renewed service ! And then those fervent prayers which be was continually offering up, in the ful- ness of Christian sympathy with the bereaved, or at the bedside of the sick and dying, — did they not bring and keep him in very close com- munion with his God, and enrich and comfort his own soul with those communications which are peculiar to such fellowship ? It would be hazarding nothing to say that his sweetest^ brightest, holiest hours on earth were passed in the midst of the gloom and suffering of that doleful season. These blessed manifestations of Divine grace must have brightened and braced his ministerial character, and quickened the gift which was in him to a capability of still more extended and efficient action ! It comforted his friends so to think of him at the time, and to look forward to the greater usefulness, for which this peculiar training seemed intended as a prepara- tion. This hope strengthened as he survived the crisis, and continued till the devouring pestilence, having consumed all upon whom it could act, and as it were, exhausted by its own violence, was just closing its rava- ges. They thought then, with thankfulness, of the blessed experience which he had abundantly treasured up ; of the high grade of ministerial efficiency to which he had been raised ; of his accumulated power as an WILLIAM M. JACKSON. 713 instrument for God's glory, and the good of his Church ; of the great work reserved for him especially in that community. But his work on earth was done. The expiring breath of the pestilence was imbibed by his relaxed and enfeebled system, and he sank under the infection. For a time, the stunning intelligence could not be credited — it seemed impossible to realize that it could be so. His life had been so sig- nally preserved in the midst of danger at its height, that now, when its existence was scarcely perceived, no one was prepared for the sad tidings that he had fallen. His marvellous preservation, and his increased importance to the interests of the Gospel, combined to create a feeling of security that he would remain. Under such circumstances, the removal of such a man seemed so contrary to all that our own judgment and feelings would deter- mine, that it was difficult to entertain the thought of his death. But " God's ways are not as our ways " — " What He doeth we know not now, but we shall know hereafter." All along our pilgrimage, events are trans- piring which, to us, are perfectly inscrutable. When we meditate on this mysterious dispensation, and think of the intelligent, brave, experienced standard-bearer, who nobly fell, just when he had attained the greatest capability of signal service, at the very moment when he seemed to be peculiarly needed, and when, least of all, we felt ourselves able to spare him, — how confounding the bereavement ! And what shall we say ? What can we say, but, it is the hand of the Lord who does all things well? One thing we can do — we can take our stand under the cross which was his glory, and which he loved to uplift for the contemplation of all men ; and, from the affecting spectacle there exhibited, bring an infallible argu- ment of abundant power to recover our stunned sensibilities, re-establish our filial confidence, and comfort our wounded hearts. Yes, we can look upon our bleeding and expiring Saviour, and reason as an Apostle has taught us, — " He that spared not his own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not, with Him also, freely give us all things." "This God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble : therefore will we not fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea, — though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof. The Lord of Hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our Refuge." The last moments of Mr. Jackson afforded nothing requiring to be recorded. One who was with him in his sickness, says — " His mind was calm and bright ; and, on the afternoon preceding the night of his death, I asked him if he had any messages for his friends. He replied, — • No, I have written all.' " With his habitual system and forethought, he had pre- arranged every thing for time and eternity, in anticipation of this solemn hour, and now all that remained was to fall asleep in Jesus, and wake to receive the Martyr's crown from the Master's hand, and be ever with his Lord. In regard to the personal appearance of Mr. Jackson, though it is very distinct in my own recollection, it would be impossible for me to express it in language which would convey any very distinct idea to a stranger. I can only say, he was rather below the ordinary height, and, for one of his stature, broad across the shoulders and chest. His hair was dark. The Vol. V. 90 *jl^ EPISCOPALIAN. injury to which I have alluded, had scarred one side of his face, and slightly deflected the eye. His countenance in repose was grave, with perhaps a shade of distress ; but it lit up and beamed with his peculiarly benevolent smile, in full accord with the strong grasp with which he gave his cordial greeting, and the ardour with which he engaged in social intercourse. Yours truly, JOHN JOHNS. SAMUEL SEYMOUR LEWIS, D. D. 1832—1848. FROM THE REV. J. A. MASSEY, SECIOK OF TRINITY CHUBCH, MOBILE, ALA. Mobile, July 8, 1858. Dear Sir : I had the pleasure of an intimate acquaintance with the Rev. Dr. Lewis, formerly of this place, and the affectionate regard which I bear for his memory renders it easy and pleasant to me to comply with your request for some brief notices of his life and character. What I am about to communicate is partly from my own personal knowledge, and partly the result of correspondence with his friends. Samuel Setmottr Lewis, the eldest son of Samuel and Nancy (Oaks) Lewis, was born in Springfield, Vt., on the 4th of September, 1804. He was baptized when quite young in the Episcopal Church, and his father seems to have been of that communion. From very early life, he showed a strong religious tendency, and at the age of twelve was often observed in the fields audibly engaged in prayer. Even then it was evident in what direction his natural disposition was to lead him ; for he would sometimes, as if anticipating the appropriate duties of a minister, stand up and address an imaginary congregation, and urge upon them the duties of the Christian life, in a tone of great fervour and impressiveness. Contemporaneous with the development of this passion for preaching was a strong love for books, and a constantly increasing thirst for knowledge. His early opportunities for learning consisted in his attending a common district school for three months during the winter, and a school taught by a female during the summer. He made rapid progress in his studies ; but it was the result of great diligence and perseverance rather than of any extraordinary quickness of apprehension. The hours and the days which other boys were accustomed to give to play, he sacredly devoted to the acquisition of useful knowledge. As he possessed a naturally vigorous and robust constitution, it was rather his father's wish that he should spend his life in agricultural pursuits ; but he was himself resolved on obtaining an education, and no obstacles were thrown in his way. He commenced studying Latin at home, under the tuition of the minister of his native place. But at the age of about fifteen, SAMUEL SEYMOUR LEWIS. 715 Providence opened the way for him to enter an Academy. A friend of his father's was called to take charge of the High School at South Berwick, Me., and Samuel accompanied him thither, and engaged in good earnest in his preparation for College. But as he had never before been separated for any length of time from his father's family, he suffered not a little from homesickness, and even wrote to his father, begging that he might be per- mitted to return ; but his father, understanding well the nature of his com- plaint, wrote to him, advising, if not requiring, that Jie should remain and persevere in carrying out his purpose. During his residence here, he was obliged to work part of the time to pay for his board ; but notwithstanding this, he proved himself an excellent scholar, and became a favourite with all with whom he was in any way associated. He remained at South Berwick until he was fitted for College, and then entered at Dartmouth. At the close of the first term, he returned to Springfield, and during the vacation engaged in teaching a school ; but he very soon became apprehensive that his sight was beginning to fail ; and after trying several ineffectual means of relief, he felt constrained to give up his studies and dissolve his connection with College. He now formed a partnership with a friend, and engaged in mercantile business in Utica, N. Y. On one of his visits to the city of New York to purchase goods, he was led to consult a distinguished oculist in regard to his eyes ; and to his great surprise and delight, he was assured that they were not in the least diseased, but that he simply had the misfortune to be near-sighted. Having become satisfied that this was really the case, he immediately closed up his business, in which he had been engaged about two years, and as soon after as practicable, entered Trinity (then Washington) College, Hartford. At the end of two years, he passed his examination upon the whole course, and graduated on the 6th of August, 1829, taking a share in the first honour. Shortly after his graduation, he entered the General Theological Semi- nary in the city of New York, and continued in connection with it, it is believed, not far from a year. While pursuing his studies there, he was elected a Tutor in Trinity College, his Alma Mater thus declaring une- quivocally her estimate of his talents and attainments. This post he con- tinued to occupy, till he was admitted to Deacon's Orders, by Bishop Brownell, in Christ Church, Hartford, on the lj)th of June, 1832. He had now reached the goal for which he had long striven, and to which he had looked forward with the most intense desire. The holy ambition with which his soul had been fired during his preparatory course, was to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ to his perishing fellow-sinners. And the spirit that was so prominent in him at that early period, never knew either cessation or diminution during his life. Love for his work was the law of his whole ministerial career. He never grew weary in his efforts to glorify God, and bless his fellow-men. For his own people especially he ever exhibited an ardour of affection which was beautiful to behold, and which made it his delight to do and to suffer all things for their spiritual and eternal welfare. No man could ever with more truth or appropri- ateness address to his flock the language of the Apostle, — " Now we live, if ye stand fast in the Lord." 716 EPISCOPALIAN. In the autumn of the year of his ordination, (1832,) he was provi- dentially led to select Alabama as the scene of his future labours. In the month of October, he took charge of Christ Church, Tuscaloosa, that place being then the capital, and one of the most important towns of the State. This was his first home as a minister ; and under his ministry the Church and cause of Christ there received a decided impulse for good, which it has never lost. He was admitted to Priest's Orders, by Bishop Smith of Ken- lucky, in 1833. » , On the 6th of February, 1834, Mr. Lewis was married to Marianne E. Morison, — a lady with whom he became acquainted while a student at Hartford. It was a circumstance of some interest that the Rev. Caleb S. Ives of Texas was married at the same time to a sister of Miss Morison, and that the two clergymen married each other in the church of which Mr. Lewis was Rector. Mrs. Lewis' father was a native of Inverness, Scot- land, but migrated to Jamaica, thence to the United States, and after- wards returned to Jamaica, where he died in 1813. After remaining in Tuscaloosa nearly three years, (till the fall of 1835,) he accepted an invitation to settle in Mobile, which thus became the prin- cipal field of his ministerial labours. In this city, his career as a minister was a very marked one, and his name here is imperishably connected with the best interests of the Religion and Church of Christ. At the time of his becoming a resident here, there was but one parish in the city, and that a very feeble one. Its remarkable growth, during his Rectorship of more than ten years, is the best eulogy on the character of the man and the minister. He gave himself wholly to his Master's work, and his profiting appeared unto all. He found a congregation not number- ing over one hundred persons, worshipping in a small frame building, whereas he left one of the largest in the Southwest, occupying a commodious church, which is an ornament to the city. He found a little band of ten or fifteen communicants — in five years, the number reached two hundred, and very soon his people acquired a reputation for good works and general benevo- lence, which extended through the length and breadth of the land. But the Great Head of the Church had not destined him to a long life in the ministry on earth. Whilst residing at Tuscaloosa, he had a severe fever from which he suffered indirectly till his death. It left his lungs in a weak condition, and he would not allow himself sufficient time for rest afterwards. This weak condition of the lungs, through his imprudent zeal, ended in consumption, which in his case was specially remarkable, because he had no right to it either by inheritance or physical conformation. His native State never produced a nobler looking man than he was when he removed to Mobile, and none who beheld him then ever dreamed that that tall, large frame was destined to be slowly wasted by that disease whose consuming power is so rarely stayed. Nor would it perhaps have been so, if he had known how to spare himself. But this it seemed impossible for him to do. Long did he continue to do full duty, when a less devoted spirit would have thought it impossible to ascend the pulpit. I have repeatedly seen him spring from his couch, and insist upon answering some call for ministerial services, when I should have been less surprised if he had never again opened his eyes upon the light of day. But that spirit by means of SAMUEL SEYMOUR LEWIS. 717 which his life was shortened, undoubtedly constituted his great power as a minister. It was his energy, and laboriousness, and affectionate concern for his people, everywhere, by which he did so much good. While he occupied no mean position as a preacher, he was specially distinguished as a 'pastor. All loved him — all felt the influence of his pure, meek and holy life. He was a good man, full of faith and of the Holy Grhost, and as a consequence, much people were added to the Lord. , The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by Trini^ College in 1846. Dr. Lewis died, deeply and universally lamented, on the 9th of July, 1848. He was the father of three children, one of whom died in infancy, and of the remaining two, one was graduated at Burlington College, in 1855, and is now a candidate for Orders in the Episcopal Church, and the other entered Trinity College in 1857. His widow was married in 1854 to John Powell, Esq., and now resides in Williamsburg, L. I. Having been intimately associated with Dr. Lewis for years, a part of the time an inmate of his house, and his Assistant in the church, I can most cordially endorse the language of the Bishop of Alabama to his Con- vention, when referring to his lamented death: — " This eminently faith- ful and devoted servant of God was greatly esteemed, loved and hon- oured, as the father of the Church in Alabama. By his sound evangelical preaching, by his holy walk and conversation, and by his ardent zeal and devotion, he contributed more than any one man to the building up of the Church in the State. After having worn out his life in the cause of his Master, he ended his days in a calm, holy and happy death, leaving behind him a name fragrant with holiness, and cherished with fond affection in the memory of multitudes who were blessed by his ministrations. He was a strong pillar in the midst of us, and his removal is a loss to the whole Dio- cese. I have never known one who seemed to me to be a. riper Christian, nor one who more happily combined the qualities of genuine experimental piety and of sound conservative Churchmanship." I am quite aware that your limits will not allow me to dwell long upon the various prominent points of the life of Dr. Lewis, nor to relate many pleasing and instructive incidents which occurred at different periods in our social and ministerial intercourse. The lessons which his life taught more prominently than any others, were purity of heart, great simplicity and sincerity, and the most unwearied laboriousness and perseverance. To these chiefly, under God, he owed his success, as a minister of the Gospel. I cannot more appropriately conclude this imperfect sketch than by giv- ing some brief extracts from his last official communication to his Bishop, exhibiting his views of the Gospel and of the Church. " This," says he, " in all human probability, will be my last official com- munication to you, and I trust that a few remarks upon my views of ' Gos- pel truth and order ' (which you have desired) may not be unacceptable on the present occasion. I am now, Rt. Rev. Sir, standing as it were, upon the confines of two worlds ; and as I look forward to the future, and back- ward in review of my past ministerial life, I cannot but rejoice in those heart-cheering, life-giving truths or doctrines, which, when in health, it was my delight publicly to proclaim, and for the preaching of which ' most 718 EPISCOPALIAN. chiefly ' I do not now regret. For although I do not, by any. means, lightly esteem what is called the ' discipline of the Church,' that is, her external organization, her rites and ceremonies, her sacraments and ordinances, yet in preaching, they should be made to keep their subordinate position — sub- ordinate to the cardinal and fundamental doctrine of salvation by Christ alone. * * * * While we teach that both doctrine and discipline are to revolve around Him as the great and only centre of attraction to lost men, and instruct them to look unto Jesus, as Moses did the Israelites to the brazen serpent, we may confidently believe that the Holy Spirit will accompany our ministrations to the saving of the soul. Oh, Sir, as there is nothing which can save the soul but the blood of Jesus, so there is no kind of preaching which so deeply interests the depraved and deceitful heart, and pricks the conscience of the most hardened infidel, as the simple story of the sufferings and death of the Son of God for a self-ruined and guilty world, especially when told by one who has experienced in his own bosom their converting efficacy and renewing power. Let the Church then be maintained in her complete integrity ; her divinely instituted ordinances and sacraments set forth and exhibited in their full proportions and proper places ; her Canons and Rubrics regularly observed ; but let them not be substituted, in part or in whole, for the faith of Christ, or "justification by faith alone " in Him for salvation ; and that too a faith which has been begotten and sustained by the Spirit of Christ. " * * * If all who are ambassadors for Christ would set forth, primarily and chiefly, in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, the old fashioned doctrines of our Early Reformers and Bible Martyrs, our Church would arise at once from the dust of her present humiliation, and shine with a true light throughout the length and breadth of the land; and all men, wherever the Gospel is thus proclaimed, would seize the skirts of her min- isters, and say. We will go with you, for we have heard that God is with you. And here permit me humbly to bear my dying testimony to the truth and power of the Gospel, as sufficient to sustain the sinner in pro- tracted sickness and pain, and in view of a speedy departure to the world of spirits. I do humbly rejoice in hope of the glory of God, through faith alone in the merits of our blessed Redeemer. And while I may, I trust, and do bless God for having permitted me through his grace to work many years in his vineyard, still this and all other ' works ' for the saving of my soul appear to me now, more than ever, ' filthy rags.' To these already extended remarks I will only add that the mysterious ' power of the Cross is to be learned under the Cross.' Most true have I found this declara- tion of the sainted Bishop Wilson to be in my own case, and with my whole heart and soul do I thank God that in all the troubles, trials and afflictions, of which I have been called to partake, I have been enabled through grace ever cheerfully to resign my will to that of our once crucified but now exalted Saviour, and to know that all things work together for good to those who are looking unto Jesus, and to whom also belong all things, whether present or to come. And most unwaveringly do I believe that He, by whose grace ' I am what I am,' is able to keep that which I have commit- ted unto Him, and to bring me, at last, in safety, to that ' land of pure delight, where saints immortal reign.' " Yours faithfully, J. A. MASSET. DANIEL COBIA. 719 DANIEL COBIA * 1833—1837. Daniel Cobia, a son of Francis and Jane (Lowry) Cobia, was born in Charleston, S. C, on the IBthof September, 1811. His paternal grand- ifarents emigrated from Grermany to America before the Eevolutionary War, having descended from a Protestant family which had been driven by persecution from France, and some of whose members had sealed their tes- timony to their religious belief with their blood. His mother was of an Irish family, and was a warmly attached and consistent member of the Episcopal Church. She died when her son was but little more than two years old, having committed him to the care of his father's sister, under whose guardianship he passed his early years. This lady was his instruct- ress in the usual branches of an English education ; after which, he was, for a short time, under the instruction of a Dr. Jones, and was then removed to another school in Charleston, taught by a Mr. Grilbert, where he devoted himself, with great zeal and success, especially to the study of the Mathe- matics. On leaving this school, he became a member of the Charleston College, where he graduated in 1829, having been distinguished through his whole course for talents, diligence, and exemplary deportment. On leaving College, his mind was, for a while, severely tried, in regard to the choice of a profession ; his remarkable powers of eloquence, as they had been developed in his collegiate course, leading many of his friends to urge him to the study of the Law, while, on the other hand, the well known wishes of his guardian aunt combined with his own generally serious feel- ings and habits to predispose him to the study of Theology. He seems, at this time, to have felt a painful uncertainty in respect to his own spiritual condition ; but his mind was gradually brought into a brighter light, until he was enabled to repose with joyful confidence in the gracious promises of the Gospel. While he was hesitating as to what profession he should engage in, he accepted the place of Assistant Teacher in the Grerman Friendly Society School ; but, having at length determined to devote himself to the ministry of the Episcopal Church, he left Charleston, in October, 1830, with the approbation of Bishop Bo wen, who was his warm and constant friend, to become a member of the Theological Seminary in the City of New York, where he accomplished the prescribed course of three years. During his connection with the Seminary, he was a great favourite with both the Professors and the Students ; and not only his displays of vigorous intellect and high eloquence, but his works of faith and labours of love, seemed to mark him as destined, if his life was spared, to a career of exten- sive usefulness. He was particularly active in establishing and conducting a Sunday School, into which many poor children were gathered, some of whom afterwards became useful citizens and devout members of the Church. The last year of his residence at the Seminary was a very trying one in regard to his health. His constitution, not naturally robust, began, under » MS. from his sister. 720 EPISCOPALIAN. the action of repeated colds, to betray a decided pulmonary tendency; but such was his zeal in doing good, that even this scarcely led him to moder- ate his efforts. On leaving the Seminary, he made a short visit to Connec- ticut, and returned to Charleston in August, 1833. Mr. Cobia was now ordained Deacon, and immediately took charge of St. Stephen's Chapel, where the seats were free, and the congregation small and made up of the humbler classes. He made it his first business to collect a Sabbath School ; and in order to give to it the greater effi- ciency, he organized a teacher's meeting, the exercises of which he con- ducted himself on Saturday afternoon. His preaching, not less by its deeply evangelical tone than its fervid eloquence, made a deep impression on the community at large ; and it was not long before his congregation had increased so much in both numerical and pecuniary strength, as not to require to be considered any longer a Free Church ; whereupon the Bishop, both as his superior in the ministry and as his friend, required him to accept one of the three invitations which had been tendered to him, — namely, to become Assistant Minister at St. Michael's, St. Philip's, or St. Paul's, in Charleston. After diligently inquiring which church would open to him the most promising field of usefulness, he accepted the invita- tion from St. Philip's, and entered on his duties there in September, 1884. He was ordained Priest on the 13th of September, 1835, it being his twenty-fourth birth-day. He entered on the duties of his new charge with the utmost alacrity, and laboured to an extent which altogether overtasked his physical energies. A severe cough, accompanied with other pulmonary symptoms, led him to pass a few weeks at Wilmington, N. C, where he made a deep impression, both in and out of the pulpit, and was instrumental of lasting good to a number of individuals. Here he became engaged to be married, and in December following was married, to Louisa, daughter of Archibald Hooper, of that place. But his symptoms of disease now became more alarming, and a copious bleeding of the lungs admonished him of the necessity of a total cessation from labour. He, accordingly, by the advice of his physi- cians, went with his wife to pass the winter in a milder climate. Having remained till the close of January at St. Mary's, Georgia, where he experi- enced some inconvenience from the variableness of the climate, he sailed for the Island of St. Thomas, where he arrived about the 20th of February. After stopping there a few days, he proceeded to the neighbouring Island of St. Croix ; and here he had the happiness to find himself not only domes- ticated in a hospitable family, but in the midst of a small circle of Chris- tian friends. During his sojourn on this Island, his health rapidly improved, and he began to be encouraged in the hope that he should be able to resume his public labours ; and had even prepared a Sermon with which to greet his congregation on his return to them. But, on his homeward pas- sage, another hemorrhage occurred, and, on reaching Charleston, in April, his friends were pained to discover that his health had undergone no favourable change. It was now apparent that he was the subject of incu- rable disease, and that nothing remained but to endeavour to mitigate his symptoms, and render his last days as comfortable as possible. He passed the succeeding summer in the upper Districts of Carolina, and at the Vir- DAKIEL COBIA. 721 ginia Springs, whence he returned in the autumn, with scarcely more of strength than enabled him to reach home. From this time, his decline was rapid — he seldom left his chamber, and was prevented by a harassing cough from engaging in much conversation ; but his spirit was perfectly tran- quil, and no one who saw him doubted that he was "quite on the verge of Heaven." He died on Ash Wednesday, February 8, 1837. His Funeral Sermon was preached by the Rev. William W. Spear, who had been his friend and fellow-student in the Theological Seminary. He left one child, a son, who survived him but little more than a year. Mr. Cobia published a Sermon addressed to Children, entitled " G-od's Call to Samuel ;" a Sermon on the Burning of St. Philip's Church ; and a Sermon on the Anniversary of the Printing of the Bible in English. He also published various anonymous articles in different periodicals ; and a Volume of his Discourses was published after his death. FROM THE BEV. CHARLES COTESWORTH PINCKNET, JR., EECIOE or GRACE CHURCH, CHARLESTON, 9. 0. Charleston, March 24, 1855. My dear Sir: My recollections of the Rev. Daniel Cobia date back to my ear- liest years. Quiet, ijetiring, thoughtful, he had few intimates among his school- fellows, and seldom or never took part in their games. Of a delicate constitution and remarkable gentleness of temper, he seemed neither inclined nor fitted for the rough sports of boys. ' Ilis nature was contemplative, and his pleasures entirely intellectual, even at that early age. Better would it have been for him and for the Church of God, had there been a greater measure of youthful buoy- ancy, and a proportional development of the physical system. It might have prolonged his days, and doubled or tripled the duration of his earthly ministry. How many " a burning and shining light" has thus been prematurely extinr- guished, by an early neglect of physical education! Daniel Cobia was the most blameless character I have ever seen among boys^ In an intercourse of several years at school, and at College, I cannot recall ai word or an action, which he would blush to repeat before any number of wit- nesses. His presence was a rebuke to profaneness and vulgarity, and the most vicious were compelled to pay a tribute of respect to the silent influence of his- moral character. There was a commanding, reproving tone in his daily walk, which, in spite of his gentleness, made him an object of respect, rather thani love, to a majority of his associates. Only those who came nearer to him, and knew the tenderness as well as dignity of his nature, could rightly appreciate or love him. His standing as a scholar was always high. He maintained the same reputa- tion for truthfulness with his teachers as with his companions. He was not of that lax school, which disdain to lie to an equal, but think all deception lawfull towards a teacher. In diligence, uprightness, and talent, he had few equals, and no superiors. After his graduation in 1828, I saw less of him. He left Charleston to pursue his studies at the General Seminary of the Episcopal Church in New York, and returned to be ordained in the summer of 1833. During my residence at the Virginia Seminary, letters from home made frequent mention of Mr. Cobia. The zeal and earnestness of his ministry, the crowds who attended his churches,, and the awakening power of his preaching, more thnn justified the high expecta- tions of his friends. On my return to Charleston in 1835, I found him the Assistant Minister of St. Philip's Church, with a growing reputation as a minister of Christ, and vvithi Vol. V. 91 722 EPISCOPALIAN. remarkable ripeness of judgment for a man of twenty-four years. I heard him preach but once, which was in February, 1835. But the day, the text, and the sermon, are distinct in my memory now. The subject was the Deterioration of the Wilful Sinner. A critical hearer, who then listened to him for the first time, well characterized his preaching — "No fish escapes his net" was his remark, as we left the church. The metaphor aplly conveyed the truth. His preaching was searching, discriminating, and comprehensive ; as his volume of published sermons will show. He grappled the conscience of his hearer with a most tena- cious hold. The solemn truths of Scripture he loved to dwell on, and enforced them with mingled tenderness and boldness. He was peculiarly successful in "convincing men of sin." "Reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long-suffering and doctrine," seemed to be the Apostolic precept which had chiefly given tone to his ministry. Holding strongly the doctrine of "justification by faith only," he showed plainly to all who were out of Christ, their desolate condition, if thus he might constrain them to fly to Him for refuge. His personal holiness, which was stamped upon his face as well as his character, gave great additional force to his preaching. But perhaps that trait of his character which impressed you more strongly than any thing else, was his earnestness. You could not listen to a single ser- mon from him without feeling that his heart was full of his Master's work. He realized the worth of the soul, the peril of its neglect, and the glory of the salvation provided. And he laboured to save souls. It was the object upon which his heart was manifestly set. It was his " meat and his drink," — a glowing fire within, which was daily consuming his bones. The brother who preached his Funeral Sermon took for his text this most appropriate passage, — " The zeal of thine house hath eaten me up." The application of the words was felt by all. In respect to the qualities of his mind and heart, his chastened fer- vour and "meekness of wisdom," as well as his brief and brilliant career, Daniel Cobia has often reminded me of Henry Martyn. Certainly no man to whom I ever listened impressed me more with the purity and the earnestness of his minis- try. He aimed directly at the heart, and seldom failed to impress his hearers with the truth and importance of his message. The effects of Mr. Cobia 's brief ministry cannot be easily told. It did not last three years. But the work of a life was accomplished. Many souls were turned to the Lord; and many worldly-minded disciples became earnest Chris- tians, who still continue to glorify God. The seed which he so liberally sowed, is still bearing fruit in the Lord's vineyard. It was the genuine " seed of the Word;" therefore its "fruits remain." But the Lord used this youthful ser- vant, not only to convert souls, but to edify his Church. The spirit of his min- istry was infused into the Episcopal Churches in Charleston,' — the ecclesiastical, as well as the political, centre of our State; and though twenty years have now passed since his death, there are not a few who still look back to his ministry, not only as having marked a blessed epoch in their own personal experience, but as having contributed much to elevate the general tone of Christian character in the surrounding churches. Very truly and respectfully yours, •CHARLES COTESWORTH PINCKNET, Jk. ABRAHAM KAUFMAN. Y23 ABRAHAM KAUFMAN* 1835—1839. Abraham Kaufman, the son of Abraham and Mary Kaufman, was born in the vicinity of Carlisle, on the 5th of January, 1811. His parents were respectable German people, and his father's occupation was that of a farmer. They were, in early life, members of the German Reformed Church ; but they subsequently became members of the First Presbyte- rian Congregation of Carlisle. Abraham, having had but a common school education, was put by his parents to serve as a clerk and salesman in a hardware store in the borough of Carlisle. He early gave evidence of having embraced the Gospel in its life and power. Shortly after this, the prospect of a more lucrative employment led him to remove from Carlisle to Hagerstown, Md. ; and, in this latter place, soon after his removal, he united with the Presbyterian Church. In 1831, he abandoned the idea of devoting himself to business, and resolved to become a minister of the Gospel. He now returned to Carlisle, fitted for College, and in due time, entered Dickinson College in that place. He did not, however, take the regular collegiate course, as he became a member of the Andover Theo logical Seminary in the autumn of 1832. Mr. Kaufman, for more than a year and a half from this time, seems to have had no difficulty in regard to his ecclesiastical connections ; but in the spring of 1834, his attention was directed particularly to the points of difference between the Presbyterian and Episcopal Churches, and the result of his inquiry brought him into the Episcopal Communion. On the 20th of June, 1834, he writes thus: — " For some two months past I have been engaged in a prayerful and somewhat protracted and laborious investigation in regard to the claims of Episcopacy. In the course of the examination, I have read Hooker, Miller, Chilling worth, Wilson, Potter, Chapman, Leighton, with a careful examination of the Scriptures, and have looked into Sparks, Mason and Augustine, all contain- ing copious extracts from the Latin, Greek and English Fathers, and the Fathers of the Eeformation. The result of my inquiries is the sincere and unbiassed conviction that the Episcopal mode of administering the external concerns of the Church approaches nearer the Apostolic method than any otherwith which I am acquainted ; that the Articles are conformed to the doctrines of Holy Writ, and are such as an enlightened Christian Philosophy would approve and confirm ; that their Liturgy is redolent with devotion and poetry, — that it also breathes the penitence, the humility, and adoration which reigns in it, breathes the spirit of God. All merely exter- nal I deem not essential to salvation — nevertheless, holding, as I do, that, when in our power, we should conform as nearly as possible to Apostolic example, unless absolutely prevented by unavoidable circumstances, or unless the events of Providence be such as seem certainly to indicate that it is not my duty, I design, in due time, to declare myself a friend of Episcopal order, and to range myself beneath Episcopal banners." • MSS. from Mrs. Kaufman, and Mrs. T. J. Young. — Charleston Gosp. Mess., 1839. 724 episcopaliAjSt. On the 26th of October following he writes thus : — " This day my con- nection with the Presbyterian Church ceases. I have been a member of that denomination for between four and five years. In that Church, at Hagerstown, Md., I first professed my love and attachment to the Saviour and his cause. In that Church I have had many moments of joyousness and hope, and also many of darkness and sadness. By members of that Church I have beeh brought forward, and reared up and fostered ; and there have I still many endeared and loving friends. At the thought of .separating from them, my heart bled and bleeds ; but the voice of duty is stern. I trust, before God, that I have not acted hastily, or blindly, or selfishly, but from a desire to do right, and to labour most efficiently and pleasantly for the cause of religion. And now I can only give myself up into his hands, praying Him to direct me in the way wherein He would have me to walk, and dispose of me as He may think best. To-day I was con- firmed by Bishop G-riswold, in Salem, Mass., together with Southgate of my class, and Goodwin of the Middle class." In November following, he procured from clergymen in Boston the requisite testimonials for becoming a candidate for Holy Ord«rs ; and sub- sequently officiated as lay reader in some of the Churches in Massachusetts. On the 12th of July, 1835, he, together with his friend Southgate, was ordained Deacon, by Bishop Griswold, in Trinity Church, Boston, the ser- mon on the occasion being preached by Bishop Smith of Kentucky. He preached his first sermon the next Sabbath, in the neighbouring town of Roxbury. i During his residence at Andover, Mr. Kaufman was a vigorous and suc- cessful student, and was especially devoted to German theological litera- ture. He translated two works — Bockshammer's Treatise on the Freedom of the Will, 1835, and Tholuk's Commentary on the Gospel of St. John, 1836, — both of which were favourably noticed by the Reviews. In the spring of 1836, Mr. Kaufman, at the solicitation of some of his friends, consented to visit Beaufort, S. C., with some reference to becoming an Assistant in that parish. On his way thither, he reached Charleston early in June, and accepted an invitation to preach in St. Philip's Church. He then proceeded to Beaufort, but the proposed arrangement there proved impracticable. He, however, soon after, received a call to become the Assistant Minister of St. Philip's, Charleston, as successor to the Rev. Daniel Cobia, who had then just resigned his place on account of declining health. His election as permanent Assistant Minister took place on the 5th of January, 1837. He was ordained Priest, by Bishop Bowen, in St. Philip's, on the 7th of October preceding. Mr. Kaufman was married, on the 17th of April, 1838, to Anna D., only child of the Rev. Charles Faber, a resident of Charleston. The connection between Mr. Kaufman and St. Philip's Church, though full of promise, in respect to both usefulness and comfort, was destined to an early and sudden termination. He preached his last sermon on the 18th of August, 1839 ; and until then, though the Yellow Fever had been for some time raging around him, he had continued in his accustomed health. The next day, however, he contracted the disease ; and though the physi- cians did not consider it, in its earlier stage, as taking on an alarming ABRAUAM KAUFMAN. 725 form, he was himself deeply impressed with the conviction that it was to have a fatal issue. And thus it proved. He lingered nine days from the first attack, and died in the exercise of the most serene and trusting spirit, on the 28th of August. He died but two days after Bishop Bowen, and they were both mourned for, by the same community, at the same time. The Vestry and Wardens of St. Philip's Church passed several resolutions, expressive of their warm regard for Mr. Kaufman, with the following Pre- amble : — " The Vestry and Wardens of St. Philip's Church have scarcely ceased to mingle their regrets with the members of St. Michael's, for the loss of their Diocesan Head, before they are called upon to open the tomb for their own Assistant Minister. God, in his good providence, has seen fit to recall that ministering spirit, which, on a like melanctioly occasion, appeared to have been sent to us for our especial comfort and consolation. We submit, in humble resignation to the decree of Him, ' who standeth in the congregation of Princes,' and is ' a Judge among Gods.' " The Kev. Abraham Kaufman, whose death we now deplore, came among us some few years since, a stranger to our habits, manners, and country. On the death of the ever to be lamented Cobia, circumstances pointed him out as a suitable successor, and wo are all witnesses to the zeal, assiduity, and Christian perseverance, with which he performed the duties incident to his office. His zeal in his Master's service may indeed be considered as the immediate cause of his untimely death. To his ardent, pure and unsophisticated mind, the end in view was to be attained at every hazard, and the dangers to the body were held light, in comparison with the everlasting salva- tion of the immortal soul. To say we deplore the loss of such a man, would be say- ing too little: we mourn him as a brother. To us he opened his heart with the ingenuous innocence of a child, and there we beheld nothing but loveliness, purity, and truth. He sojourned with us for the brief space of three years, but he left upon the tablet of memory a picture of moral worth, heavenly-mindeduess, and Apostolic zeal, not to be cflfaced by time." A female member of St. Philip's Church, whom he visited during a long illness, writes thus concerning him: — "He was devoted in his attentions to the sick and afflicted, and gave them his warmest sympathy, and was remarkable for being able to gain their confidence so that they could express their feelings without efi'ort or embarrassment. The interest which he felt, at such seasons, he never lost, and the influence, thus gained, he, continued to exercise ever afterwards, as well in prosperity as adversity ; for he was of a social disposition, and could enter into the feelings of all his people. He was greatly beloved by his congregation ; for he went so much among them that they felt him to be their Friend as well as Pastor ; and he seldom paid a visit, without leaving some good lesson for them to reflect on and profit by in their daily duties. He was noted for his interest in the coloured members of the Church, and, during the pre- valence of the cholera in the city, he was so much among their sick and dead, that some of the more influential members of the church requested him to desist from attending the funerals of this part of the population, on account of the great hazard to which it subjected him ; but his answer was that, as they were members of his congregation by Baptism, so he felt that, as their Pastor, he was bound to be with them in these scenes of trial ; and that he felt no fear, and doubted not that the God of that Faithful Abraham, whose name he bore, and whose faith he would fain imitate, would be his protector. He took a deep interest in the youthful part of his charge, and encouraged those whom he thought adapted to the work, to become ministers of the Gospel. He was also an earnest friend of the missionary cause, and was desirous that it might be sustained, as far as possible, by systematic charity." 726 EPISCOPALIAN. Besides the translations already referred to, Mr. Kaufman published two Discourses, — one on the Greatness of God, and one on the Goodness of God. FROM THE REV. GEORGE DUFFIELD, D. D. Detkoit, Mich., August 5, 1858. Eev. and dear Sir: I regret to say that I can perform the service you ask of me in respect to the Eev. Abraham Kaufman in but a very imperfect manner; and yet it gives me pleasure to do- any thing in my power for the preservation of the memory of a young man for whom, while he lived, I cherished a very cor- dial friendship, and whose name and fame are still dear to me. My relations to Mr. Kaufman were such as to give me a good opportunity of forming a judgment of his character. While he was yet a mere lad, living as we did in the same place, his sobriety of character and fondness for reading attracted my attention, and led me to hold frequent conversations with him on the subject of his higher interests, as well as to encourage his desire for know- ledge and his taste for study. Though he was not originally a member of my church, he subsequently became such, and for a year or more resided in my family, as tutor to my three eldest boys, availing himself of the advantage of my library, and of such personal direction of his reading and studies as I was able to give. Mr. Kaufman was a young man of a decidedly superior intellect; and both his taste and his talents led him particularly into the department of Metaphysics. His piety, as it came under mj' observation, was not of that tender, sympathetic cast, which expresses itself with warmth and zeal, and in the manifestation of urgent solicitude for the impenitent and unbelieving. But it was staid, solid and persevering, involving a strict adherence to the dictates of conscience, and great diligence in the discharge of acknowledged duty. The change in his eccle- siastical connection, as he himself informed me, was not a little facilitated by certain external circumstances. He was very sensitive to the controversies then beginning to agitate the Presbyterian Church. The noise of them, as reported at Andover, was even greater than the reality; and he dreaded the thought of being compelled, as he supposed he would be if he should continue in the Pres- byterian Church, to take part with either the Old or the New School, as the parties were called, among both of which he had cherished friends. He was far more interested in the study of Philology, and the German Philosophy, than in the existing differences in respect to the doctrines of imputation, of inability and human corruption, of regeneration and the work of the Holy Spirit, of the atonement of Christ and justification, and of the obligations to faith and repentance, which were then extensively agitated among Presbyterian teachers and preachers. While thus vigorously engaged in his own studies, he rendered important service, in a pecuniary point of view, to himself and others, by rjiid- ing and correcting the proof sheets of publications which required a knowledge of the Greek, Hebrew, and German, to examine accurately. About this time, he became acquainted with a Prelate of the Episcopal Church, by whom ho was informed that there was a wide and promising field of useful- ness open in that communion, and especially that her ministry needed to be replenished. This was another circumstance favourable to the change; and it was not long after this, before, as the result of his inquiries on the subject, his mind was definitively made up to cast in his lot with the Episcopal Church. Previous to this, he had received aid from the funds of the Presbytery of Car- lisle, — having been under their care as a candidate for the ministry; but when he changed his ecclesiastical relations, he very considerately refunded the whole amijunt they had advanced him. ABRAHAM KAUFMAN. 727 Mr. Kaufman's prospects of usefulness in the Chnrch of his adoption were almost every thing that a zealous and devoted young minister could have asked for. His personal appearance, his voice and delivery, his pleasing manners and kindly spirit, togetlier with his literary and theological attainments, secured to him much more than the ordinary measure of popularity. But he fell, an early victim to his youthful zeal, and has left behind him tlie savour of a name highly honoured, and of an earnest and useful, though brief, ministry. He had visited me in New York the summer previous, and was full of sanguine hope and glowing zeal. The news of his death sent a bitter pang to my heart, and filled me with wonder and awe. Mr. Kaufman contributed some essays to one or two of the Literary and Theo- logical Reviews of his day. He was early pleased with some of the views advanced in the Oxford Tracts, and was, I believe, among the first of those in the Episcopal Church, who welcomed them as more congenial with the doc- trines and spirit of the Liturgy, though I do not know exactly to what conclusions he finally arrived. While a student, he prepared an article on the doctrine of the Atonement, which I endeavoured to dissuade him from publishing, because of his having used the familiar terms expressive of our evangelical ideas on the subject, in novel senses, tinged with the transcendental notions of certain English and German divines. The article, somewhat modi- fled, was subsequently published; but I have never seen it. While he was read- ing the article, as originally prepared, with the request that I should criticise it, I frequently required him to pause, and define his terms and explain his mean- ing, perceiving, as I did, the deep hue of German Philosophy pervading the whole. Becoming somewhat impatient with the frequent demands made for explanations of his nomenclature, &c., with great earnestness, mingled with the utmost kindliness of spirit, he burst forth with the almost tearful exclamation, — " Oh I wish you could see with my eyes!" After his admission to Orders, he visited his friends in Carlisle and the vicin- ity, and preached in the Episcopal Church in that place. His parents, who had never before been in an Episcopal place of worship, and were totally unac- quainted with the Liturgical forms and ritual, attended the service to listen to their son. It was reported that they were not a little shocked at his appear- ance in the white gown or surplice, as he entered the desk to read prayers; and that such was the eifect upon them that they scarcely lifted their eyes during the whole service. They did not, however, attempt to control their son's wishes and convictions, but, cherishing still the most lively affection for him, left him free to pursue the course which his conscience dictated. Yours truly, GEORGE DUFFIELD. FROM THE RET. THOMAS H. TAYLOR D. D. New York, June 1, 1858 Dear Sir: I cannot say that my acquaintance with the Rev. Mr. Kaufman, concerning whom you inquire, was very intimate; and yet I saw and knew so much of him that I retain a distinct impression of his appearance, manners, and general character. He had come to Charleston but a short time before I left there, but I saw him afterwards in this city; and my intercourse with him, both there and here, was such as to supply the material for only pleasant recollections. His character, both intellectual and moral, was undoubtedly of a superior type; and though he did not live to fulfil the high promise given by his early develop- ments, he lived long enough to attract no inconsiderable attention, and to become the object of grateful and cherished remembrance in many hearts. 728 EPISCOPALIAN. Mr. Kaufman's external appearance was decidedly prepossessing. He was of about the medium height and size, wore spectacles, had a light complexion and light hair, and a countenance bland, open and yet beaming with intelligence. His manners were gentle and winning, and like his face, revealed tlie workings of a most kindly spirit. A beautiful simplicity seemed to pervade his whole character. He had an ardent, perhaps I may say enthusiastic, temperament; but he combined with it the utmost ingenuousness and openness to conviction. He had an exquisite taste, and, considering his years, a richly stored and highly cultivated mind. Some of his translations from the German are exceedingly beautiful, and evince great skill and facility in that department of literature. I am not sure that I ever heard Mr. Kaufman preach; and yet I have a pretty definite idea of the general character of his preaching. It was much more adapted to interest and gratify the select few than to impress the masses. His sermons were full of mature and well digested thought, and were sure to arrest and hold a cultivated mind; but I think they were little characterized by those bold and stirring appeals and lofty flights, which are usually associated with the idea of a very popular preacher. His elevated Christian character, and his deep interest in the spiritual welfare of his fellow-men, were a sufficient pledge for the evangelical texture of his discourses. I may relate one incident which occurred in connection with his visit to me in this city, which may serve as a good illustration of his enthusiasm on the one hand, and his frank and ingenuous spirit on the other. At the time to which I refer, the mysteries of mesmerism and clairvoyance were attracting much atten- tion in certain circles, and my friend Kaufman had, by some means or other, got his head very strongly turned in that direction. Colonel Stone, of the Commer- cial Advertiser, who was at that time vigorously prosecuting his experiments on that subject, had taken him to some mesmeric exhibition at Providence, where he had been put into communication (as the phrase is) with some female subject, and had been greatly impressed by tlie revelations which she had made to him. On his return, he expatiated with great enthusiasm upon the correctness of her answers to inquiries which he had made of her in respect to various tilings in Charleston ; and especially in regard to the state of his own church, (St. Philip's,) which was then in the process of being rebuilt. I told him that, in respect to every thing but the church, her answers were too vague to be worth any thing; and, as for what she had said about the church, that was so definite that it would be easy to decide whether it corresponded with fact; but I assured him that I did not believe a word of it, though he had not a doubt that every word of it would prove true. On his return to Charleston, he found that the whole revelation was apocryphal, — that the actual state of the church did not at all correspond to the mesmeric report concerning it; and he immediately wrote me that it was all a miserable humbug. There was a sort of generous impulsive- ness in his nature that predisposed him to admit what seemed to be true, without perhaps a very thorough investigation; which yet made him as open as day to conviction, and led him to acknowledge an error or a mistake as promptly and gracefully as if it had been a mere labour of love. Very respectfully, Rev. and dear Sir, Your friend and obedient servant, T. H. TAYLOR. FROM THE RT. REV. HORATIO SOUTHGATE, D. D., KEOTOK OF THE OHDBCH OF THE ADVENT, BOSTON. Boston, August 13, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir: My first recollections of Mr. Kaufman are associated with •the Seminary at Andover, where we were classmates. "We soon formed an inti- mate friendship, which strengthened as time went on, and was consummated by ABRAHAM KAUFMAN. 729 our entering together the Episcopal Church. My remembrances are those only of a student's life; but, even at that early day, the elements of his remarkable character were clearly discernible, although they had not arranged themselves in that beautiful harmony of proportion which marlted the last year or two of his career. There never was a more striking instance of the power of Divine grace to elevate, refine and dignify. Endowed by his Creator with talents rarely equalled, and with social qualities which gave a charm to a character tliat might otherwise have seemed too purely intellectual, there was still, at the period of which I write, a lacli of unity, of repose, of finish, which was supplied only after he left the Seminary, by the special operation of the good Spirit of God. An exemplary man in all religious duty, eager for toil and self-denial in his expected profession, having no thought for life aside from his theological activi- ties, peculiarly unworldly in the whole frame and temper of his mind, his life, at the first, was yet a feverish and unsteady one. He seemed to me, sometimes, like a seething caldron of agitated thought and feeling, thrown into activity by the intenseness of his nature, but almost as much without order as the rude elements of the primeval chaos. This state, in one phase or another of it, con- tinued through the whole of his Seminary life; and it was not until he had been for some time in the ministry, and had been wakened, if not to a higher, at least to a more spiritual and more practical, conception of his office, tiiat the great ele- ments of his character came forth in perfect beauty, all harmonized, marshalled and fitted for the Master's use, by the powerful working of the Holy Ghost. It was a season of service in Charleston, during the prevalence of the Yellow Fever, which was the providential instrumentality for effecting this mighty and glorious change ia him. He was a generous, noble-minded, strong and aspiring man before. Afterwards, he was a humble, modest, subdued, active and devoted priest of God: as great as before, but his greatness less obtrusive, the beauty of holiness having taken the place of his lofty intellectual aspirations. But let me describe hiiu as he was at Andover. I was very proud of Kauf- man. 1 thought he could not live, and not be distinguished. It was not in his nature to hold a low place among men. He was not formed for it. All his thoughts were noble. Imaginative, generous, self-sacriflcing, patient of toil, eager for knowledge, quick in apprehension, boundless in his ambition for grand issues, confident in his own powers, though not vain, (he was above that,) endowed with a perfect physical constitution, and an activity both of mind and body which I have never seen surpassed, what might not be expected from his mature years and his ripened reputation ? He could not but make his mark, and that a strong one, on the age. He would have left a well remembered name to the American Church. But he died in the morning of his promise; and my feeling is now, as it was when I first heard of his departure, ' The Church knows not what she has lost.' His reputation became, even before his death, all that his pi'oudest friends could desire for him, within the immediate sphere of his influence. But tliat sphere was comparatively narrow, for he was still in the beginnings of his work. Before he had passed beyond the first stage of his pro- fessional life, his Lord called him away from his earthly toil to his heavenly rest. Perhaps the trait that would most attract the attention of a casual observer of Kaufman's course in the Seminary, was his ardent love of knowledge. Such burning and glowing thirst for acquisition I have never seen, before or since, in the most devoted student. All the day, and most of the night, he could study without flagging, and apparently without any ill efiects. Nor was it mere drudgery to him. There appeared nothing of a wearing sense of duty about it. It was generous, ardent, the free outpouring of the ceaseless love of his heart, sustaining itself without effort or abatement. Combined with this was a singular fondness for truth. His mind was clear, transparent, indifferent, if I may so speak, to conclusions, provided only that Vol. V. 93 730 EPISCOPALIAN. they brought truth with them- He had a lover's passion for truth. He pursued it with the eagerness of a hunter. He had no prejudices of education or habit which would make him study to support foregone convictions. He wished ever to form his convictions by independent investigation.; and to this end, he spared no toil, research or diligence. He was admirably fitted for study, and no less for agreeable companionship, by the peculiar buoyancy of his temper. Mirthful as a child, he was not merry by fits. It was the life of his soul. He was seldom depressed. I never saw a cloud hanging upon his brow. His sunny disposition shone in his intelligent face with perpetual radiance. The little adversities and trials of a student's life never moved him, excepting to hilarity and glee. He seemed to rejoice over obstacles, so confident was his nature, so genial, so elastic. I can never think of the happy hours spent with him, in the forest walks by day, and the moonlit strolls by night, without feeling that when he departed, a beam of light was taken away from the world. My soul clung to him as a refreshment and a joy. Conjoined with all this were a marked dignity and manliness of character. There was nothing mean in him. I never heard him speak evil of any one; but I remember repeatedly his telling me of harsh and unkind words said to bim, and he always did it with a cheerful, guileless manner. There was no malice in his heart, no deceit. It did not seem to him an effort to be virtuous in this res- pect. It was the spontaneous outflowing of his nature. Frank, unsuspicious, light-hearted, confiding, the world was always, at that period, a very bright world to him. He thoroughly enjoyed life, because he had a perennial fountain of happiness within. His studies lay chiefly in the direction of mental philosophy; but Us mind was equal to any investigation, as appeared when he started upon the historical researches connected with the subject of Church Gsvernment. He could deal logically and powerfully with facts; but his chief delight was in the higher regions of metaphysics. He became a thorough scholar in German, and then he went above the clouds, whither I never pretended to follow him. From Coleridge up to Kant he travelled with a perfect enthusiasm; and in Kant he felt as much at home as tamer scholars are in Locke. He translated " Bockshammer on the Will," and illustrated it with Notes. Few men at his age could have done the task. I may mention here, also, his Translation of Tholuk on St. John's Gos- pel, and several articles in Reviews, all the products of leisure hours at the Semi- nary. He was never idle, and yet he always found time for healthful recreation. But his walks were instructive and delightful, from the incessant play of his ever active intellect. His study of German metaphysics was undoubtedly a harm to him. Ho learned to live in an unreal atmosphere. The homely duties of life lay beneath him as the earth lies outspread to the eyes of a man gazing down upon it from a balloon. He did not walk among them, though he could see them and discourse of them in beautiful theories. Dear Kaufman ! how often he sought to lift my laggard soul to his lofty eyry of unearthly thoughts, and I could not soar ! I could only see above me vapoury ideas tinged with all the brilliant hues of the rainbow, which, when I endeavoured to grasp them, and assure myself of their I'eality, melted into empty air. He was an ardent and persistent teacher, but T was a very dull scholar. Yet our intellectual variances served only to bring u."! and bind us more closely together. I remember once his reading a sermon before the class, under that accomplished and elegant instructor, Professor Skin- ner. I believe the text was, "In Him was life; and the life was the light of men." The .sermon was a transcendental essay upon spiritual life, its laws and influences. We understood not a word of it, and lost the coveted opportunity of " cutting up," by its inaocessibleness to criticism. We sat in puzzled wonder, Kaufman himself in high enjoyment of our discomfiture, until our worthy Pro- ABRAHAM KAUFMAN. >J^l fussoi' " summed up " our silence with a few kind words upon the unsuitableness of the seimon to the great ends of preaching, — not forgetting, as he never did forget, tliat gentlemanly courtesy which has made his Lecture Boom, to me, as I doubt not, to all my cotemporaries, a place of graceful and pleasant memories. "Manners makyth the man," says William of Wykehani. They go very far towards making the teacher. Kaufman and I entered together upon the study of Church Government, and devoted about six months to it incessantly, discussing our readings in our daily walks. My first object in commencing it was to prevent him from going too far, for he had an inherent tendency to Episcopacy. But we were soon both drawn into the depths, and, after floundering about a long time in mid-sea, reached the shore at the same point. We became convinced that Episcopacy was the primi- tive polity; but, as we had studied the matter merely as an interesting subject for research, we did not, for some while after, think of changing our course of life on account of our change of views. It was, at the first, simply a specula- tive opinion. But Kaufman, by and by, raised the question of duty. It was a very painful question, on account of our personal relations in life. But he v«as no man of expediency. His mind went straight to a principle, and shot out from a principle into practice, with an indiii'erence to the surroundings of the actual which was, at least, a happy state for his mental peace. The struggle was far severer with me, who could not retire so easily from my earliest and dearest associations. They linger still, with such fondness of recollection as even death may not extinguish. I have since gone far enough from Andover, theologically and ecclesiastically. But the memory of that verdant hill-top, the glorious elms, the brilliant sunsets, which I have never seen elsewhere in all the worlJ, the hours of quiet study, the dear companionship with such men as Gregg, and Munroe, and Sweetser, and Pike, (the first and last are long since at rest,) the learned and faithful Professors, — the paternal Woods, the magical Stuart, the honest and practical Emerson, the subtle and scholarly Robinson, the refined and polished Skinner, — the memory of all these is as fresh and as loving after the lapse of more than twenty years as if they were the scenes and persons of yes- terday. Kaufman, too, being a Pennsylvanian, was free from the New England ties which hindered me, and, if it had not been for his incessant probing and stimu- lating, my change, though it would have come at last, might have been slower and later. As it was, we kept together, and, on the 26th of October, 1834, were confirmed by Bishop Griswold, in St. Peter's Church, Salem, just as we were entering upon our Senior year in the Seminary. The good Bishop had the kind- ness to consider our long study at Andover as so much towards our candidate- ship for the ministry, and we were ordained Deacons by him, the following June, in Trinity Church, Boston. We found ourselves at once at home among new friends and with new prospects. After this, I saw little of Mr. Kaufman. We left the Seminary, and our paths became widely divergent. He went to the South, was made Assistant to Bishop Gadsden, in St. Philip's Church, Charleston, appeared at first the meta- ph3'sical and unintelligible preacher of which his first Sermon in the Seminary gave warning, was converted into a simple, practical and spiritual-minded Minis- ter of Christ in the way I have described, and thenceforward laboured for the salvation of men with a fidelity, devotedness and self-sacrifice which every one who knew him would expect from his nature and temperament, when sanctified and enlivened by the Holy Spirit. He refused to leave when the Yellow Fever came again, though warned of the peculiar danger to which his Northern consti- tution exposed him. It was like him to believe that it was his duty to remain and minister to the sick and dying. He did remain, and at length fell himself a victim to toil, exposure, and supervening illness. He went, for us, too early to 732 EPISCOPALIAN. his reward. But lie left a lesson wliich is worthy of our careful perusal. If no other benefit should result from the publication of your Annals than that they shall serve to rescue such examples as his from oblivion, the labour and learn- ing which are preparing them will not have been bestowed in vain. I am, Rev. and dear Sir, Yours very faithfully, HORATIO SOUTHGATE. FROM THE REV. W. W. SPEAR, D. D. EECTOB OF THE CHUKCH OP THE UEDIATOB, PHILADELPHIA. Philadelphia, August 11, 1858. My dear Sir: I have felt that it should be considered both a duty and a pleasure to assist you in every possible way in your liberal endeavour to raise a monument to the memory of our own lamented friends, and I wish my recol- lections of the one to whom your inquiries more particularly relate, were now as fregh as they were a few years since, and then I could serve your purpose to mucli better advantage. Indeed, I prepared a somewhat extended account of Mi'. Kaufman, not long after his death, and used it in addressing his people, at their request, before I left Charleston; but unfortunately it has passed out of my hands, and I fear is lost irrecoverably. What I remember as illustrative of the character of this remarkable man, is so identified with the history of a portion of his life, as it came under my observation, or within my immediate knowledge, that I do not think I can do better than to bring out these facts somewhat in the order of their occurrence, and leave them to speak for themselves. Mr. Kaufman went to Charleston at a critical period in the history, not only of St. Philip's Church, but of all the Episcopal Churches in the city. Tliese churches, in respect to zeal and spirituality, had been in a languishing state; but some of their members were longing and looking for a brighter day, and it .seemed as if the time to favour that portion of Zion had come. Several young men of an earnest and devoted spirit had been raised up, who seemed specially adapted to give a fresh religious impulse to the public mind, — the most promi- nent of whom was Daniel Cobia, whose preaching awakened extraordinary attention, and produced deep seriousness throughout the whole Episcopal com- munity. He was the minister of St. Stephen's Chapel, which was designed especially for the poor; and he would fain have continued in that limited and humble sphere, but the chapel could not accommodate a tithe of those who pressed to hear him, and who wished to place themselves under his pastoral care. And each of the three large churches, in rapid succession, elected him their Assistant Minister, with the full consent of their Rectors. After long delibera- tion, and with great reluctance, he determined to accept the appointment of St. Philip's, then under the Rectorship of the late Dr. (afterwards Bishop) Gads- den; and his ministry there fully realized the expectations and hopes of the most earnest Christians belonging to it. But the fruits of his labours were just begin- ning to appear, when the venerable church was burned, and the congregation were obliged to erect a rude " tabernacle " for the purposes of worship. And they had scarcely begun to feel at home there, when Mr. Cobia was attacked with hemorrhage, and was obliged altogether to cease his labours. He had ven- tured indeed far beyond his strength, and that strength was never to be renewed. Several months elapsed before he himself abandoned the hope of resuming his labours; but he lived some time after his resignation. Of course, it was a bitter trial to this young servant of the Lord to have all his plans hindered at so early a period in his course; nor had he the comfort of knowing that his successor would follow in his steps. Mr. Kaufman was, by no means, at that time, like-minded with himself. His preaching, thougli gene- ABRAHAM KAUFMAN. 733 rally acceptable, was wanting in simplicity and directness, showing more of accomplished scholarship than evangelical unction. lie had been smitten with the love of Metaphysics; and this gave a hue to his public discourses, adverse in no small degree to their power. Upon hearing him dwell much in the pulpit on some matter of doubtful disputation, Mr. Cobia expressed his wish that min- isters would not preach any thing that they were not themselves fully persuaded of. On the other hand, Mr. Kaufman, on reading some of Mr. Cobia's manu- script sermons, after his death, expressed his surprise at the extraordinary effects which he perceived the preaching of them to have produced, and, observing in them the absence of all learned research or elaborate composition, he said, — " Why it seems to me that he must have read nothing but the Bible." Like most of those who have recently transferred their allegiance from one denomination to another, he seemed very earnest and happy in the new relation, and perhaps it would not be unfair to say that he was even more of a Church- man than our Church itself required him to be. Still there was so much that was amiable, and interesting, and attractive in his deportment, that even serious Christians hoped all things, while the worldly could not lavish their attentions and applauses upon him too profusely. Much prayer was offered up for him, and he soon began to realize the truth that " whom the Lord loveth He chastenelh." In the course of his ministry he was called to witness a great amount of sick- ness and sorrow, and began to feel in himself the effects of a climate unsuited to constant activity and mental toil. In the summer of 1838, that peculiar scourge of Charleston, the " Strangers' Fever," under which, twenty years before, the admirable Bishop Dehon had fallen, and of which he said that " it alone made the place inhospitable," appeared, after along absence, which had made many suppose that it would never return. It was emphatically a " Stranger's Fever," as no native adults were liable to it; and whenever it had appeared aforetime, it was considered a matter of ordinary prudence for all who were liable to it not to remain in the city during its prevalence. Bishop Dehon himself, accordingly, when determining to remove thither from a Northern cli- mate, expressly stipulated that he should be excused from his duties in case of its appearance; although, at last, he neglected this precaution, supposing him- self too long a resident to be in danger, and fell a victim to this malignant disease. Upon its appearance at the time now referred to, the Vestry of St. Philip's requested Mr. Kaufman to leave the city, for their sakes as well as for his own. Bishop Bowen also, then Rector of St. Michael's, but absent for the time in attendance on the General Convention, approved, and, in a letter afterwards received, anticipated, the action of the Vestries and the Assistant Ministers of both Churches. After due deliberation and prayer, and consultation with others similarly situated, he did leave, arrangements having been made for the perform- ance of his duties by other ministers not exposed to the same danger. He returned in the fall, and was observed to enter upon his work with new ardour, and in a spirit of greatly increased seriousness. His preaching became at once more awakening and more evangelical. Christians declared themselves more edified, while those whose hearts were in the world revolted at his plain and faithful dealing. During the next season of Lent particularly, he manifested much boldness in denouncing the love of pleasure among the professed followers of Christ. A course of sermons on " the hail shall sweep away the refuges of lies, and the storm shall overflow the hiding place," stung many of his former admirers to the quick, and some resolved to attend elsewhere till such time (one wittily but profanely remarked) as " the storm should pass away." He had entered the Episcopal Church under the impression that it was deci- dedly Arminian in doctrine; but he was led to doubt the correctness of that interpretation of our Articles, which he had received, and entered upon an inves- 734 EPISCOPALIAN. tigation of the history of the Church of England, in regard to this point, and finally adopted the views of Toplady, as illustrated in his controversial works, and remarked to one of his brethren, who was pursuing the same inquiry, and more slowly approximating the same conclusion, — " There is no doubt about it — the Church of England is Oalvinistic." At the same time, however, he was very much interested in the Oxford Tract writers, and prepared a written apology for them, thinking that they were misunderstood, and not perceiving the results which others thought must necessarily follow. His thoughts on the sub- ject were inserted in the New York Review, Bishop Bo wen having objected to the introduction of any controversy on the subject, or at least to any encouragement being given, in the Charleston Gospel Messenger, which was his oflScial organ. In Mr. Kaufman's general spirit at this time, there seemed a most thorough change. There was a weanedness of soul, even from all those innocent things in life for which he had previously shown at least the ordinary relish, and a devotion to his work of ayrakening and instructing the souls committed to him, which had not been previously manifested. Though he had new and peculiar ties to earth, a son having recently been born to him, and every comfort sur- rounding him, yet he seemed indifferent to all things earthly. He observed to an intimate friend that the whole world seemed changed to him. He was ans- wered that the world was the same, but that he himself might have been changed; and he said he supposed this was true. His friend remarked to him that he had long desired to see such a change in him, and thought he had noticed it as in progress for some time, but did not know whether he was himself con- scious of it, and he was glad thus to hear the acknowledgment of it from his own lips. As the summer of 1839 advanced, to the dismay of us all, the same disease which had dispersed the sojourners in the city the year before, appeared again, and the Vestry of St. Philip's Church requested Mr. Kaufman, not indeed abso- lutely to leave the city, but to use his own discretion in regard to it, and to do so, if he felt it necessary. The change in the phraseology was one of several indi- cations that the propriety of leaving the city had been called in question. This Mr. Kaufman had found to be the case, on his return in the previous autumn, and from that time he had determined to remain at his post, should the malady return again. Not that he felt it unlawful for him to take refuge from a tem- porary danger to which few, if any, of his people were exposed, but that it was inexpedient for him to subject his motives to the danger of misconstruction, and lose in any degree the confidence of the congregation in his devotion to their highest interests. His decision was in harmony with that of one of his brethren, who was placed in almost exactly the same circumstances. Mr. K., indeed, thought there were reasons in the case of that brother, suflBcient to induce a different course, and urged him by all means to escape from the danger. His own deter- mination to remain at all hazards was coupled with a distinct impression that the result would in all probability be fatal to him. In a few days afterwards, on Sun- day, both he and his friend were attacked with premonitory symptoms of fever. In the case of his friend, remedial agents were promptly used, and the attack proved slight. Mr. K.'s case was otherwise. By the time that his friend was able to visit him, indeed, he was supposed to be out of danger; but the next time he came, he was found to be dying. His friends had begun to congratulate them- selves with the remark that he was " acclimated now;" but alas for «s, his acclimation was of such a nature as to place him at once beyond all earthly ill. He was fully aware that he was approaching his end. However much he mi^ht have desired to abide in the flesh, gathering wisdom with each ripening year, and ministering more effectually to the good of the Church, yet he was willing to cease the toil, to lay down the burden, and leave all his earthly interests, and trust his widow and fatherless child to the care of Him whom he served. With ABRAHAM KAUFKAN 735 his last breath he poured forth an earnest prayer for himself and his family, his church and the world, in much the same strain of unearthly sublimity, as marks that which is recorded in the Life of Dr. Alexander. To myself the death of Kaufman, so soon after that of Cobia, was the occasion of " sorrow upon sorrow." Each of them had been to me, in feeling as well as in office, a '•'brother." But it was a delightful thought that, as they were lovely and pleasant in their lives, they were also united in their deaths. Their bodies were buried side by side, under the chancel of the new Church of St. Philip's, and their spirits were joined to the General Assembly of the first-born, in the presence of Him whom they both served, according to the measure of the gift of Christ, where they see eye to eye, and are perfectly joined together in the same mind. A few months after, I visited the spot where they sleep, and found the marble which rests over their grave covered with evergreens, in preparation for the Christmas Festival. Immediately it came to my mind with peculiar force that Christ is the Evergreen of the Church, that He never dies, never sins, never errs, never changes; and the words of the Apostle embodied the joyous theme of discourse for the next day's solemnity, — appropriate, however, at all seasons, through every year of our earthly pilgrimage, — " Remember them who have had the rule over you, whose faith follow, considering the end of their conversation," the source of their official authority, the grand subject of all their lawful teach- ing, the sole ground alilce of their hope and ours, — " Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and forever." With best wishes for your success in the great and good work, to which you have asked me to contribute this brief memorial of my friend, believe me Yours aflfectionately in Christ, "W. TV. SPEAR. SAMUEL HASSARD. 1835—1847. FROM THE RT. REV. HENRY W. LEE, D. D., BISHOP OF THE DIOCESE Of IOWA. Davenpoet, la., March 20, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir : I proceed to comply with your request to furnish some account of the Rev. Samuel Hassard, for the work which you now have in baud. Samtjel Hassaed was born in the Island of Jamaica, West Indies, on the 21st of January, 1806. When six years old, he was brought by his father to the United States, in order that he might enjoy the advanta- ges of a thorough education. Several years were passed in Westerly, R. I., in preparatory studies ; and when about sixteen, he entered Yale Col- lege, where he graduated with honour in 1826. While in College, ho was distinguished as a writer, and was regarded as one of the most promising young men in the class to which he belonged. After leaving College, he still remained in this country, and was, for several years, engaged in lite- rary pursuits in New Haven. He subsequently became a Candidate for Holy Orders in the Protestant Episcopal Church. I am not acquainted 736 EPISCOPALIAN. with the particulars of his private religious history. In June, 1835, he was admitted to the Order of Deacons by Bishop Brownell, of Connecticut. He was soon called to the Bectorship of St. Thomas' Church, Taunton, Mass.; and was admitted to Priest's Orders, by Bishop Grriswold, in the autumn of 1835. It was while he was in charge of this parish, that I became acquainted with him. I first heard him preach in New Bedford, in which town I was engaged as a teacher, while pursuing my studies. I afterward saw much of him in Taunton, and he was finally one of my examiners when I applied for Holy Orders. Having laboured faithfully in his first parish for three years, during which time he established his reputation as a gifted and discriminating preacher, he resigned his charge, and at Easter, 1839, he became the Rec- tor of St. James' Church, Great Barrington, in the same State and Diocese. A short time before this, I had organized the Episcopal Church at Springfield, and became its Rector ; and being in the same Convocational Association with him, we frequently met during the eight years in which he laboured in Great Barrington. He ranked first among the Clergy of Western Mas- sachusetts, as a writer, and few excelled him in any part of the State or country. His reading of the Service was characterized by earnestness and unction ; and his whole appearance gave the impression of deep and absorb- ing piety. He was heartily devoted to the work of the ministry, and drew all his cares and studies towards the fulfilment of his high and holy calling. Pew men can be found of deeper devotion, of higher intellectual refine- ment, of greater firmness of purpose, of truer Christian dignity and cour- tesy, and of a more extensive benevolence, than marked his character and deportment. He was alive to all the finer emotions and sensibilities of our nature. He loved the works of God in creation. All nature was vocal to his soul ; and when he walked forth into the field, or upon the mountain, he held converse with Him who spake and it was done, who commanded and it stood fast. As I have intimated, his whole heart was in the duties of his sacred ofiice, and he lived and laboured for the salvation of souls. While his dis- courses discovered an uncommon degree of talent and cultivation, they were full of the truths of the Everlasting Gospel. He set forth Christ and Him crucified as the only hope of sinful men, and shunned not to declare the whole counsel of God. His dearest theme was the Atoning Cross of a bleeding Redeemer, and his heart delighted in the doctrines of grace in Christ Jesus. Believing man to be " very far gone from original righteous- ness," and totally unable to merit Heaven by his own works or deservings, he preached Justification by Faith, — faith in the merits and righteousness of a crucified Saviour, as the only way of salvation. Nor did he neglect to insist upon the necessity of holy living as the fruit and evidence of a true and lively faith, " by which a lively faith may be as evidently known as a tree discerned by the fruit." He gave to the Gospel system its just, and true proportions in his public teaching. With him Christ was the corner- stone, and all the building was fitly framed together, resting on Him as its deep and firm foundation. Mr. Hassard was a true lover of the Church in whose ministry he served. He was a devout and consistent Churchman. He was an ardent admirer SAMUEL HASSAllD. 737 of the Liturgy, and adhered strictly to the Episcopal view of the ministry and government of the Church of Christ. But he was eminently kind and tolerant in his feelings towards professing Christians of other bodies, who gave evidence that they possessed the spirit of Christ. He was respected and beloved by all classes in the community where he lived and laboured ; and when he died, devout men of different creeds made great lamentation over him. His general health, for many years, was decidedly poor, so that he was frequently interrupted in his ministrations, and he feared at times that he might be obliged to relinquish his public duties altogether. The condition of his health of body affected his general spirits, and the ordinary expres- sion of his countenance indicated physical suffering and mental depression. His figure was tall and manly, his form erect, and his complexion dark. His feeble health made him familiar with thoughts of death, and he dwelt much upon the realities of eternity in his own meditations, as well as in his sermons ; and when he came to die, he feared no evil. His last sickness was so violent, and of such brief duration, that there was little opportunity for him to speak of his experience in view of disso- lution. Yet his friends had the most consoling evidence that his mind was stayed on God, and that in his last moments he was sustained and com- forted by the blessed hopes of the Grospel of Christ. His final disease was a virulent erysipelas in the head, and in a few hours from its appearance it assumed an alarming aspect. When it was announced to him that he could not long survive, he received the solemn intelligence with a calmness and fortitude peculiar to the Christian, and which evinced the reality and strength of his faith in that Saviour whom he had preached to others, and who did not forsake him in his own extremity. He felt the power of the tender ties which bind us to those we love, and, for the sake of those near and dear to him, he could have desired to live ; " but," said he, ' with the confidence of a certain faith,' " to depart and be with Christ is far better." He poured out his soul in fervent prayer for the family of his love and the people of his charge, commending them to the Grod and Saviour in whom he trusted, and then resigning himself into the hands of a faithful Creator - and most merciful Redeemer. Disease had already sealed his eyes in darkness, and, for some time before he was silent in death, he was unable to look upon those by whom he was surrounded. Alluding to this, he submissively and beautifully said that, though he was deprived of the light of day, a heavenly light beamed upon his soul ! This was the light of God's countenance, sending its cheering rays into the gloomy vale, and revealing: that • land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign." Light beamed upon his soul ! And even while he was praying, in broken accents, that the Saviour might be with him as he crossed " Jordan's swell- ing stream," that light dispelled the darkness of death, and enabled! him to rejoice in hope of the glory of God. "At evening-time" with him it was " light ;" and it may be confidently believed that he passed from the trials, and cares, and toils of earth, to that "inheritance of the saints in light," which is "incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadethnot away." He- Vol. V. 93 738 EPISCOPALIAN. departed this life on the 13th day of January, 1847, at the age of forty-one years, leaving a wife and one child to lament his death. The beautiful hills of Berkshire were covered with the snows of a New England winter, as, in obedience to a most unexpected summons from his sorrowing friends, I hastened to the solemnities of his funeral. As his intimate friend, I was to preach on the mournful occasion. It was late Saturday night when I began the work of preparation. I sat in his deso- late study, his mortal remains lying in an adjoining room, and, with the pen that had but just fallen from his hand, I parsed the silent watches of the night in composing the discourse that was delivered on the Lord's day to a stricken congregation and a sorrowing band of neighbouring Clergy. I can never forget that solemn night, and that impressive day. I preached from the words, " For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." He was buried at Great Barrington, amid scenery very dear to his heart ; and he was followed to his grave by an immense concourse of people, who had known him in life, and therefore lamented him in death. All the places of worship, save St. James' Church, were closed, and the entire community came together to sympathize with the afflicted, and to honour the memory of the departed. Soon after Mr. Hassard's death, I edited a small Volume of his Sermons, which was published in Boston. In an Introduction, I gave a brief Memoir of his life, of which some parts of this letter are, substantially, a repetition. The circulation of the volume was chiefly limited to his parishioners and friends ; and few, comparatively, out of that circle, are familiar with the life and character of the devoted servant of God, to whose cherished memory I am now paying a tribute of respect and affec- tion. Twenty years have passed away since, in his study in Taunton, my deceased friend acted the part of an examiner, as I was about to enter the Ministry of the Gospel. During this long interval, I have passed through various scenes of joy and sorrow, and have been uninterruptedly engaged in the duties and labours of my office, as a minister of Christ. In my present position, my cares and anxieties are multiplied beyond any former experience on my part. But I often find myself dwelling upon the past, and particularly upon the happy years of my parochial life. The dear clerical brethren with whom I took " sweet counsel" in other days are frequently in my thoughts ; though from most of them I am now far removed, and some of them have gone to their reward. Of these latter, the respected brother to whose memory this letter is devoted, holds a high place in my regard. I always think of him as a most gifted servant of God, who was an ornament of the Church on earth, and who, humanly speaking, was too soon taken " within the vail," to be " a king and priest unto God " in " the General Assembly and Church of the first-born which ^re written in Heaven." I remain, Kev. and dear Sir, Yours faithfully, HENRY W. LEE. JOHN WALKKR BROWN. 739 JOHN WALKER BROWN.* 1836—1849. John Walker Brown, a son of John and Rebecca (Vandebogert) Brown, was born in Schenectady, N. Y., on the 21st of August, 1814. From early childhood he evinced an uncommon fondness for books, and an uncommon facility at acquiring knowledge. Having been fitted for Col- lege chiefly under the instruction of Mr. Daniel Fuller, a graduate of Yale, he entered Union College in 1828, and, after maintaining a high rank in his class through his whole course, graduated in 1832. In Octo- ber, 1833, he entered the General Theological Seminary of the Protestant Episcopal Church, at New York, where also he graduated on the 1st of July, 1836. Two days afterwards, he was ordained Deacon in Grace Church, New York, by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Onderdonk. Immediately after his ordination, he commenced the work of the ministry in St. George's Church, Hallett's Cove, (Astoria,) in connection with services as Assistant Minister to the Rev. Dr. Lyell, Rector of Christ Church, New York. In 1837, he received a call to the Church of the Nativity, in the same city, which he felt constrained to decline. In the course of the year 1836, he relinquished his duties as Assistant Minister of Christ Church, and devoted himself entirely to the parish in Astoria, which was greatly enlarged and strengthened through his instrumentality. In May, 1838, Mr. Brown established the " Astoria Female Institute," and laboured with great efficiency in that institution for seven years. In September following, he was admitted to the Order of Priests, by Bishop Onderdonk, in St. George's Church, Astoria. He was, for some time, in connection with A. W. Bradford, Esq., editor of the New York American Review, — a periodical which continued about sixteen months. In 1845, immediately on relinquishing the care of the Institute, he assumed the laborious duties of Editor of the Protestant Churchman, still, however, retaining his pastoral charge. His health had begun to fail as early as 1844 ; but the decline was so gradual that he did not, for some time, suffer it materially to interfere with his labours. In 1848, however, it became evident that his case required immediate attention, and he, finally, by the advice of his Vestry, resolved to try the effect of change of scene and cli- mate, by making a voyage to Europe. He, accordingly, sailed in October of that year, landed in England, and, after remaining there a short time, passed over to the Continent. At first his constitution seemed to rally, and there appeared some reason for hoping that he might regain his health ; but a severe cold which he took in passing through Italy brought back all his most alarming symptoms. He reached Malta about the mid- dle of March, and on Easter Sunday attended church, and received the Holy Communion at the hands of the Rt. Rev. Dr. Tomlinson, Bishop of Gibraltar ; though, on account of his extreme feebleness, it was adminis- tered to him in the Vestry room. On the following day, Easter Monday, • MSS. from Mr. Brown's familj, and C. S.Vedder.Esq.— Ch. Rer., 1849. 740 EPISCOPALIAN. April 9, 1849, he closed his earthly pilgrimage, at the age of thirty-five. Even on the morning of the last day of his life, he spoke of making arrange- ments for his return to America ; but he acquiesced in the opinion that his complaint might terminate suddenly. He received the last consolatory offices of Eeligion from the resident clergy, and the Burial Service was performed by the same Prelate who had administered to him the Communion. In June, 1838, Mr. Brown was married to Maria A., daughter of Cap- tain Samuel Morton, of the city of New York. They had five children, four of whom are still (1858) living. Mr. Brown wrote extensively for the press, though most of his produc- tions that were given to the world, appeared either in the American Review, or in the Protestant Churchman. He published Constance, or the Merchant's Daughter ; Virginia, or the Lost and Pound ; Julia of Bale, 1841 ; The Christmas Bells : A Tale of Holy Tide, and other Poems, 1841 ; A Memorial of the Rev. L. P. Bayard,* 1841 ; Michael Agonistes, or the Contest of the Spirits : A Poem pronounced before the New York Alpha of the Phi Beta Kappa Society, 1843; Christmas Home, or the Household Festival, and other Poems, 1845 ; and Greraldine, the Guardian Angel, 1846. FROM THE HON. ALEXANDER W. BRADFORD, LL.D. New York, July 18, 1858. My dear Sir: I proceed to redeem my promise to give you some recollections of my friend, the Kev. John W. Brown, with the hope of contributing a little to the preservation of his memory. I first saw Mr. Brown at Union College in the fall of 1831, soon became acquainted with him, and was quickly won to love and esteem his pure and amiable character. It was always a pleasure to be in his society — a pleasure to the mind and heart. At that early period, his general scholarship was good, but his tastes inclined him more to belles lettres, in which, without neglecting the exact sciences, it was his delight to accomplish himself. His habit of read- ing was promoted by a natural indisposition to active exercise, and a preference for the quiet pleasure of meditation and composition. He was familiar with the higher domains of English and French literature : this intimacy was apparent in his conversation, in its influence upon his cast of thought, and in the formation of an elegance of expression unusual at such an age. He was the College Poet; his natural bent was for measure, and he indulged it freely. " The Dunciad," which came from his pen, created an intense excitement in " Old Union," by its vigorous antithesis, easy flowing lines, and good-humoured satire of College life, and snatches of it are yet repeated by his classmates. When, at a later period, Mr. Brown became a member of the General Theo- logical Seminary in this city, he still had a high standing, though his tastes led him away from Patristic learning and doctrinal Controversy to the study of the great divines of France and England, illustrious by their eloquent exposi- tions of practical and experimental religion. In the exercises of the pulpit he was earnest, affectionate and impressive, but his Christian' influence was most * Lewis P. Batard was a son of the Hon. Samuel Bayard of Prinoeton, N. J. • was grad- natcd at the College of New Jersey in 1809 ; was elected to the Rectorship of Trinity Church Newark, in May, 1813 ; resigned his charge in 1820, after which ho preached in various places in the surrounding neighbourhood, and was the first Episcopal minister who oSBoiated in Patter- sin J and died at Malta, on his return from the Holy Land, September 2, 1840. Ho was hon- oured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity. JOHN WALKEE BROWN. *j^l largely exhibited in the pastoral duties of his office. There, tender sympathy, the listening ear, warning voice, and wise counsel were never wanting. He illus- trated in his own walk in life the Christian graces and virtues he inculcated. Amenity of manner, gentleness of spirit, and a genial temper marked his social intercourse. His heart was open as the day, simplicity and candour shining out in all his actions. Liberal nearly to a fault, he spared nothing to relieve the wants and distresses of the needy and unhappy. With such a character he was without an enemy. Mr. Brown wrote with facility, — in prose with chasteness and elegance, in verse with grace and beauty. His productions were the first spontaneous flow of thought. His literary labours were numerous and embarrassing, and that he should have accomplished so much is an evidence of extraordinary native endow- ment, and the still higher excellence which would have crowned riper years and more ample leisure. In all that he wrote, he was ever mindful of his Christian calling, and the duty of winning souls. The prevailing thought and sentiment of his life was to do good and to glorify God. Consumption arrested his earthly career— warned by its approach, he sought a return of health by travelling abroad. His body reposes in the island of Malta, so long the outpost of Chris- tendom, — a fit spot for the true soldier of the Cross. Such, my dear Sir, is my estimate of Mr. Brown; and if what I have written shall aid you in any degree in your effort to honour and perpetuate his name, I shall be truly gratified. I remain, dear Sir, Yours very sincerely, A. W. BRADrORD. FROM THE REV. SAMUEL H. TURNER, D. D., professor in the general theological seminary, new york. General Theological Sbuinaby, / June 25, 1858. $ Rev. and dear Sir: Your kind letter requesting information concerning the late Rev. John W. Brown would have been sooner acknowledged, but that my necessary engagements have been such that I have not been able to command a moment of leisure until now. And even now I regret to say that my impres- sions of Mr. Brown are, I fear, too general to avail in any degree to the purpose for which you have requested them. My personal knowledge of him was chiefly as a student in this Seminary, though I was not unacquainted with his subse- quent useful and honourable career. As a student, I can truly say that he was every way worthy of commenda- tion. With highly respectable powers he combined diligent application and an evident desire and purpose to render all his talents and acquirements subser- vient to his highest usefulness as a minister of Christ. He evinced much of the Christian spirit in all his deportment, and might be considered as quite a model of religious circumspection and fidelity. The consequence was, as might be expected, that he enjoyed in a high degree the respect and confidence both of his teachers and fellow-pupils. As a parish minister, my impression is that he maintained in that position the same exalted character, showing that a true Christian element influenced his whole deportment and procedure as an Ambas- sador of Christ. For a short time he was in whole or part. Editor of the Pro- testant Churchman, wherein also he showed the same ability and dispositions. My recollections of his personal appearance are not so distinct that I can venture to describe him to you in this respect; though I remember that he was of mod- erate size, and that his manners were gentlemanly and attractive. I may safely 742 EPISCOPALIAN. say that he gave promise of much more than ordinary usefulness in the Church, and that many bright hopes were disappointed in his early death. I remain, with great respect, < Your friend and servant, SAMUEL H. T0KNER. NATHANAEL PHIPPEN KNAPP * 1836—1854. Nathanael Phippen Knapp was born in the vicinity of Boston, January 25, 1806, and was graduated at Harvard College in 1826. After studying Law the usual time, he was admitted to the Bar, and was a prac- tising Attorney for several years at Marblehead. During his residence there, he occasionally attended on the ministrations of the Rev. William H. Lewis, then Rector of St. Michael's Church in that town; and, through his instrumentality, he was first awakened to a serious concern for his immortal interests. Having, as he believed, entered on the new and spirit- ual life, he was confirmed by Bishop Grriswold, and became a member of St. Michael's Church in 1833 ; and he resolved, soon after, to abandon his profession and devote himself to the Christian ministry. He, accordingly, removed to New York, and pursued a course of theological study under the Rev. Dr. Milnor. He was ordained Deacon, at St. Ann's Church, Brook- lyn, and Priest, at St. George's, New York, by Bishop Onderdonk, in 1836. For a few months after his ordination, Mr. Knapp had charge of a con- gregation in the vicinity of New York ; but the next year, (1837,) he went as a missionary to the Diocese of Alabama. His first charge was in Lown- des County, where a few zealous Episcopalians had associated themselves into a parish called St. Peter's. Though he became much attached to this little congregation, and had their affections strongly in return, the sphere of usefulness was so limited that he felt constrained to seek a wider field. After resigning this charge, he took up his residence for a short time in Montgomery ; and then it was that a correspondence was opened with him by the Vestry of Christ Church, Tuscaloosa, which resulted in his accept- ing the Rectorship of that church. He entered on his duties in that parish a little before the middle of the year 1837 ; and for five years he laboured there with great diligence and success. In the summer of 1843, he returned to the North with the intention of finding a permanent settlement ; but such was not the design of Providence in respect to him. While in this part of the country, he fell in with the Rev. Dr. Lewis, then Rector of Christ Church, Mobile, whose health was at that time much impaired. It was a summer of terrible suffering in Mobile from the Yellow Fever ; but Mr. Knapp, with a spirit of true Christian heroism, acceded to the pro- posal of Dr. Lewis to go and supply his place until he should be able to • Obituary Notices.— Memoir by Key. W. Johnson. NATHAKAEL PHIPPEN KNAPP. 743 return to his parish. He, accordingly, went directly to Mobile, and began his work among the afflicted, the sick, the dying, and the dead. Though he was a stranger to the people, he quickly made himself known to them by his benevolent ministrations, and they welcomed him almost as an angel of mercy. Trusting in the Lord, and regardless of all danger, he was found wherever the cry of sorrow or of need was heard. He was at length prostrated by the fearful malady, and it seemed likely for some time that it would number him among its victims. But he began, after a while, very gradually to mend ; and as soon as he had suiEciently recovered, (the health of the city being restored, and the Rector of the parish returned,) he went, by advice of his physician, to Cuba, where he remained during part of the winter of 1843-44. On his return from Cuba, he accepted the charge of St. John's Church, Montgomery. He had been called to that church, while in Mobile ; and had accepted it on condition of not entering upon its duties until he should have made the trip to Cuba for the benefit of his health. He found the church in a very depressed state, having been destitute of Episcopal services for several years ; but he was instrumental in greatly improving its condition, and during the five years of his ministry there, the number of its members increased from nine to sixty-three. In 1848, he accepted an invitation to the Rectorship of Christ Church, Mobile, and entered upon the charge immediately. Here his few remain- ing years were passed in the most untiring devotion to the interests of his people. His health had become so feeble in the summer of 1853, as to require relaxation and rest, and in the hope of regaining it, he made a tour to Europe. He reached New York on his return in season to attend the General Convention, of which he had been elected a member by the pre- ceding Convention of Alabama. Almost the first intelligence that met him, on his arrival in New York, was that the Yellow Fever was prevailing in Mobile with unprecedented malignity, and to the most alarming extent. He resolved at once to brave the pestilence, and set his face toward the scene of his labours ; and, notwithstanding the expostulations of his friends, and the repeated despatches from Mobile, even forbidding his return, he would actually have carried out his purpose, if his Bishop had not strongly advised to the contrary. He yielded reluctantly to the opposing influence, and remained at the North till the danger was past. But however his delay might have saved him from the pestilence, it did not secure him many months from death. While in the midst of his usefulness, and with the fair prospect of being permitted to labour for his Master many years, he was violently attacked by erysipelas, which struck to his brain, and caused his death on the 17th of B'ebruary, 1854. Mr. Knapp's death spread a deep gloom over not only his own immediate congregation, but the whole Diocese ; and it was hardly less mourned by Christians of other communions than his own. The Wardens and Vestry of his Parish passed Resolutions evincing their deep sense of his extraor- dinary worth, and the loss which they and the Church at large had sus- tained in his departure. The history of Mr. Knapp's ministry is identified with the history of the Diocese of Alabama from 1837 to 1854. The Journals of the Conven- tions would reveal his prominence, if there were no witnesses to it still liv- 744 EPISCOPALIAN. ing. He was a Tutor of the General Theological Seminary, and several times a member of the General Convention. In 1855, an octavo Volume of Mr. Knapp's Sermons was published, with a brief sketch of his life during his connection with the Diocese of Alabama, by the Rev. William Johnson, of Tuscaloosa. FROM THE KEV. ANDREW P. PEABODT, D. D. Portsmouth, N. H., April 5, 1858. My dear Sir: You ask mo for remembrances of my classmate Knapp. Such as I have relate only to the early part of his career, during which, down to 1830 or SI, I was on terms of intimacy with him. He was one of the most thoroughly amiable young men I have ever known. In College he was a univer- sal favourite. Of a womanly delicacy of taste and perception, yet with nothing effeminate in character; frank, honest and honourable to the highest degree; interested for the happiness and success of others more than for his own, — he was one of the first to whom we all should have resorted for any kindness, and of the last to whom we could have felt a painful sense of obligation, — so mani- festly did he always deem himself the obliged party. His person was slender and graceful; his features finely formed, with a shade of pensiveness, and per- haps a suggestion of langour; his manners simple, modest and refined; his voice musical. I think that he exerted himself very little as a student; for, with con- fessedly good, and as the sequel proved superior, abilities, he distinguished him- self neicher as a scholar, writer, nor speaker. His rank was about midway in the class. How he passed his time I know not, but probably in light reading. His moral character was highly exemplary, nor can I associate him in thought with any thing that was not true, and pure, and gentle. My impression, how- ever, is that he then had enjoyed no experience of the power of personal religion over character; and it was probably this that was wanting to stimulate his half- dormant energies, and to concentrate his too desultory aims. Of the circumstances immediately connected with his consecration to the love and service of Christ I know nothing definitely. A classmate, then a lawyer in New York, tells me that after Knapp had established himself as a lawyer in that city, he expressed to him with tears his regret for his past negligence of religious duty, and his determination, by Divine help, to lead a renewed life. This class- mate himself, shortly afterward, entered on the study of Theology at Andover, and next heard of Knapp as a candidate for Orders in the Episcopal Church. From the time of his residence in New York, I knew nothing about my friend, not even his place of residence, till May, 1844. During that month, I spent several days at Montgomery, Ala., and learned that the Rev. N. P. Knapp, the Rector of the Episcopal Church in that city, was a boarder at the hotel in which I lodged, but was then absent at a State Convention. I made many enquiries about him, and was told of his saintliness as a man, his eloquence as a preacher, his loving assiduity as a pastor, and especially of his tender care of the lambs of his flock. I was convinced, from what I heard, that every grace of nature had been baptized into the name and service of his Redeemer, that the beautiful traits I had known and loved in him had become beatitudes, and that a nature which, in early life, lacked only the sacred fire, had been thoroughly energized by Christian faith and zeal. After that time, I saw mention of his name in con- nection with the proceedings of a Triennial Convention, and not long afterward the record of his death. I have now in my hands an octavo volume containing fifteen of my classmate Knapp's sermons. They are, on every account, very remarkable sermons. Chaste and pure in style, simple, direct and fervent in statement and appeal, without studied ornament and yet perfectly graceful and elegant in structure and NATIIANAEL PHIPPEN KNAPP. 745 diction, palpitating throughout with the heart-life of one thoroughly interpene- trated with the truths he preaches, they indicate the highest order of endow- ments for the Christian teacher. They are in every sense truly evangelical ser- mons, — evangelical in the restricted sense in which you would use the term, as implying, though not obtruding, all the leading dogmas of the Calvinistic scheme; and eminently evangelical in their being full of Christ, repentance, faith, and Heaven, and having manifestly no end but that of ministering to the conversion of sinners and the growth of saints. As from an Episcopal clergyman they are also remarkable for the entire absence of denominational peculiarities. There is hardly a reference to " the Church " or its authority, or to any of its distinc- tive dogmas or ceremonies. " Christ and Him crucified " here seems to merge all other themes; and were it not for the captions of some of the sermons, indi- cating the Church festivals on which they were preached, I should hardly know that the author was an Episcopalian. If this meagre portraiture can be of service to you, it will have given me very great pleasure to have laid at least one stone on the monument you propose build- ing to the memory of my friend. As ever most sincerely yours, A. P. PEABODT. FROM THE REV. WILLIAM H. LEWIS, I>. D., RECTOR OF THE CHURCH 0» THE HOLY TRINITY, BROOKLYN. Brooklyn, July 23, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir: My acquaintance with the Rev. N. P. Knapp commenced in Marblehead, Mass., soon after my settlement there in 1832. He was then a lawyer in that place, and though brought up a Unitarian, he became an attendant upon the services of the Episcopal Church, and soon, upon hopeful evidences of conversion, came to Confirmation and the Lord's Supper. Having found the Saviour, he immediately desired to preach Him to others. After his entrance upon the ministry, he removed to a distant place, and my knowledge of him was only such as could be gained in an occasional visit or sermon. His preaching was ever practical and experimental, evidencing his own know- ledge of the power of godliness, and calculated to exert a saving influence upon others. Amid the outbreak of novel notions in his day, short-lived, however, in their duration, he retained unchanged the evangelical views in which he was so well grounded at the outset, giving thereby another illustration of the truth that a deep personal experience of religion in the heart is the best security for stead- fastness in the faith of Christ. I ever regarded our departed brother as one aiming to preach Christ crucified in simplicity and godly sincerity. It gives me pleasure to render this testimony concerning him, and it would be easy for me to make it much more extended, but that is unnecessary, as what I should thus communicate is already within your reach. Very truly yours, W. H. LEWIS. Vol. V. 94 746 EPISCOPALIAN. ABEDNEGO STEPHENS. 1837—1841. FKOM THE ET. REV. JAMES H. OTEY, D. D. Memphis, July 1, 1858. Dear Sir : In the communication I lately sent you, commemorative of the Rev. Daniel Stephens, D. D., I intimated that he had a son of great promise who became a minister of the Episcopal Church, but who died almost at the commencement of his career. That son I regard as well worthy of a distinct notice, and I therefore furnish yon the following account of him. Abednego Stephens, the third child of Daniel Stephens, D. D., was born at Centreville, Queen Ann's County, Md., on the 24th of July, 1812. When he was some three years old, his parents removed to Havre de Grace, in that State, and from thence, in 1819, to Staunton, Va. He com- menced school at an early age under his father, who was a ripe scholar and thorough teacher. He manifested from childhood extraordinary talents, and an uncommon aptness for learning, especially in the study of the ancient languages. It is believed that he stood at the head of all his classes, throughout his entire course, up to the taking of his degree at the University. He was remarkable for his affectionate disposition, his strict morality, his love of truth, his obedience to his parents, and his venera- tion of all that was great and good. Although he excelled in athletic sports, and was formed by nature for social enjoyment, he devoted most of his leisure hours to reading, and sought the society of the old rather than those of his own age. He was regarded by his brothers and sisters as a pat- tern of sobriety, industry, truthfulness, amiability, and filial obedience ; and their admiration for his talents and attainments knew no bounds. He was a free hearted, manly, generous boy ; brave even to the verge of rash- ness in defence of an injured brother or playfellow, and yet so tender that be would not even tread unnecessarily upon a worm. From Staunton Dr. Stephens removed to Fincastle, Va., in 1828, where, in addition to the duties of parish minister, he had charge of a flourishing Male Academy. In 1829, he visited Tennessee, leaving a session of his school half finished ; and Abednego, then in his seventeenth year, took his father's place in the Academy, and carried the session to a successful close, to the entire satisfaction of the Trustees and Patrons. At the end of the session, he wound up his father's business, and conducted the family to Columbia, Tenn., where Dr. Stephens had already taken charge of a church and female school. Here he entered the Male Academy, then in a very flourishing condition, under the Presidency of James H. Piper, with a full corps of teachers. He soon' distinguished himself at this institution, and when, at the end of a year, Mr. Piper resigned the Presidency, he was elected to fill the vacancy, being then in his nineteenth year. He was unwilling to burden his aged father with the expense of a collegiate course, and he resorted thus early to teaching, to raise the means of defray- ABEDNEGO STEPHENS. 747 ing the cost of his own education. When he had accomplished this object, he resigned his Presidency, to the regret of the Trustees, and entered the University of Nashville, in May, 1832, as a member of the Junior class, then in its second session. He took rank at once amongst the best scholars of the institution, and graduated in October, 1833, with distinguished honour. Deeply imbued with religious principles, and piously trained up by his parents, he was from childhood a constant and devout attendant upon the services of the sanctuary. But the time came when he thought an open profession of his faith was required of him as a Christian : accordingly, he was presented by his father as a suitable candidate for Confirmation, and received that rite at Columbia, on the 3d of July, 1831, at the hands of Bishop Meade, of Virginia, who was then visiting the churches in Tennessee. After this public renewal of his baptismal vows, he gave much of his thoughts to the duties of a religious life, and to the setting forward of that Church in which he had been educated, and which he loved with so much ardour. With his father's steadfastness of purpose and simplicity of manner, he inherited all his mother's sprightliness, buoyancy, and ten- derness ; thus exhibiting a happy combination of the graces of a Christian gentleman, strong in resolution, and gentle in demeanour. Immediately upon taking his degree at the University, Mr. Stephens accepted the appointment of Tutor of ancient languages in that institution, and was soon afterwards created Professor in the same department. He filled these situations with great ability, and added much to the prosperity of the University. In 1836, at the request of the friends of Judge Hugh L. White, who was then a candidate for the Presidency of the United States, he wrote a biography of that eminent statesman, for publication in the papers of the campaign. This work was written with his usual ability, and was highly commended by the public. Having, after prayerful consideration, determined to become a candidate for Orders, he got leave of absence, and from October, 1836, to October, 1837, he attended the General Theological Seminary in New York, and besides pursuing the prescribed course of preparation for the ministry, he devoted himself with much ardour to the study of the Oriental languages, and German and Spanish. He had previously taken a course in Hebrew and French., On his return from New York, I ordained him as Deacon, in Christ Church, Nashville, at a Convention of the Diocese, on the 15th of October, 1837, when his venerable father preached the Ordination Ser- mon. Not long afterwards, I admitted him also to Priest's Orders. He resumed his Professorship ; and on the 5th of April, 1838, was married to Caroline Minerva, daughter of Dr. Wm. P. Lawrence, of Nashville. About the time of his first ordination, he delivered an Address, at the invi- tation of the Alumni of the University, upon " The duty of the State to endow institutions for the promotion of High Letters," — which was pub- lished by request, and was received with the highest favour by the literary world. It shows a felicity of style, a boldness of conception, and a depth of research, remarkable for a man of his age. Not having the charge of a parish, he did not preach regularly, but did so occasionally at Nashville, and at other places where he was called by 748 EPISCOPALIAN. business, or in visiting his family and friends. But tlie labour of two pro- fessions was too great for his strength. Originally hardy and active, although of a figure rather slender, he had now begun to show the wasting effects of his long and severe studies. Until his marriage, he had seldom retired to rest until midnight, and always rose before the sun. For a long time he struggled against the approaches of dyspepsia, restricted himself in his diet, pursued a systematic course of exercise, and for a while baffled this insidious enemy. But when symptoms of pulmonary consumption began to be felt, he deemed it wise to seek a more Southern climate ; and, accordingly, he accepted, in 1839, a call to the Presidency of Jefferson College, at Washington, Mississippi. His energy and talents immediately gave an impulse to this institution which was most gratifying to its friends ; but his health continued to decline so rapidly that he was advised to spend a winter in Cuba. In company with his devoted wife, he made the voyage ; but, finding, after some months, that there was no permanent relief to be hoped for, he returned to his native shores, and settled down at Nashville, content to await the good pleasure of his Heavenly Father. His suffer- ings, which were severe, and much aggravated by extreme nervous debility, he bore with a manly fortitude and a Christian resignation. When he could no longer leave his chamber, fond friends watched by his bedside, and did all that affection or skill could suggest to alleviate his pains, and to smooth his passage to the tomb. He had no fear of death, and no mis- trust of the mercy and goodness of Grod. He conversed familiarly and daily upon these subjects, and spoke of his expected departure with almost the same calmness with which one would speak of an ordinary journey. The Rector of Christ Church, Rev. J. Thomas Wheat, was a frequent visiter, and used to say that, instead of being made sad by the scene, it was such a happy place that he always came away refreshed. As his end drew near, the welfare, present and eternal, of his father's family occu- pied much of his thoughts. His letters to them were full of tenderness and exhortation. From the last one he ever wrote, I select some passages to show what manner of man he was. "Nashville, February 13, 1841. Mt dearly beloved Pakents: I summon resolution In the strength of God to write you my last letter. I am almost home; Heaven is almost in sight; its glories already dimly beam upon me my God and Saviour ! thou hast been gracious and merciful to me. Thou hast been precious to me in the time of aflaiction. Yes, truly, God has been all and in all to me. I leave this world in the holy and strong assurance of spending a blissful eternity with my glorious Redeemer. I am almost home; pray for me always that my faith fail not. Oh! let us all be less conformed to this world, and more devoted to Heavenly things! What is this world compared to the glo- ries and riches of Heaven! Lord God, melt all our hearts down in Tatitude and love to thee. Oh! I do earnestly beseech my brothers and sisters, with my dying breath, to live to God, and to forget the world. My dear brother what shall I say to him? What inducement shall I offer him to turn and serve God in the precious days of youth ? Oh, my brother, will you not meet me in Heaven.' Will you not follow me to that glorious world.' Will you not believe me when I say that this world contains nothing to satisfy the soul; that all here is vanity ABEDNEGO STEPHENS. 749 thiit wealth is utter trash, aye the evil of evils, when it stands in the way of the soul's salvation. Oh then, my brother, with my dying breath, with my last words I ever send to you, you by letter, I entreat you to turn to your Saviour, your blessed Saviour who has so loved you, as to sufifer and redeem you from misery; who promises every good and perfect gift to you; (and oh! He will per- form all and more.) Will you not then turn and flee to Him.' Yes, yes, I know you will. Oh my brother, wont you drop me a line (it may reach me in this world) to say you are determined to serve God with all your heart? How it would make my soul sing with joy, as it entered the portals of Heaven. My dear sister you have already begun the Christian race; but you must take heed how you stand, lest you fall. Beware of the vanities of the world, and its flatteries. I exhort you to live in all soberness and piety, humbly and meekly before God. Your heart must be wholly his, or you will have no peace in believing. # * * w I have written far beyond my strength, but I believe God has given me especial aid in sending you my heart's last prayers. My beloved parents, farewell! Meet me in Heaven; grieve not as those without hope; but think of me as a son, enjoying the bliss of Heaven, and waiting towel- come you to the same bliss in God's good time. So farewell! " Oh, the depths of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!" Glory to God! May He bless 3'ou both with that peace which passeth understanding! Once more to all : follow me to Heaven and Christ's bosom. Your dying, yet happy son, A. STEPHENS." In this holy frame of mind, with these joyous anticipations, he went to his rest. On the 27th of February, the heart which prompted this touch- ing letter, ceased to beat forever. Just before his death, and when he could no longer speak, he pointed with his wasted hand to Heaven, as if to bid his weeping wife to meet him there. Broken hearted, she lingered for a few years, and went to join him in glory. No children had blessed their marriage ; and their good deeds are all that remain to perpetuate their name ahd virtues. " The prayers we've breathed and alms we've given, " Is all we bear of earth to Heaven." It is not easy to do justice to the talents, learning, and excellence of this gifted man. Discreet, self-denying and patient, yet generous, social and genial ; economical and frugal in the gratification of his own desires, yet lavish and uncalculating in his deeds of beneficence to others; bold in purpose, yet modest in manner ; lofty in imagination, yet pure and chaste in expression ; vehement and fervid in style of composition and oratory, yet logical and exact in argument. At the age of seventeen he was the Acting Principal of a large Academy ; at twenty-two, Professor of Languages in a University ; at twenty-seven, the President of a College ; and when, in his twenty-ninth year, his brilliant career was arrested by the hand of death, he stood in the front rank of scholars and orators. ,» His sermons were characterized by depth and comprehension of thought, and by profound research and impassioned eloquence. On the whole, I may safely say that he was a very extraordinary young man, and that few who have not attained to a greater age, better deserve an enduring memorial. Very faithfully yours, JAMES H. OTEY. 750 EPISCOPALIAN. BENJAMIN DAVIS WINSLOW * 1838—1839. Benjamin Davis Winslow, son of Benjamin and Abigail Amory (Callahan) Winslow, was born in Boston on the 13th of February, 1815. As soon as his faculties began to develops themselves, he evinced great quickness of apprehension, originality of thought, and docility of temper. In November, 1830, he was admitted to the Church, by the Kev. William Croswell, Rector of Christ Church, Boston, — being then in the sixteenth year of his age. The next year (1831) he entered Harvard College, where, during his whole course, he maintained a high standing, not only for scho- larship, but for Christian activity and consistency. Though he was always firm to his convictions of duty, and was earnestly devoted to the Episcopal Church, and conscientious in the observance of all its sacred days, he was exceedingly popular with both the Government and Students ; and President Quincy, after his death, spoke of him in terms of most affection- ate respect. He was, in turn, greatly attached to the University ; and the following extract from a letter to his father, dated New York, February 11, 1886, shows that his attachment survived his college life : — " I still retain all my affection for Old Harvard, and would give all the world, if I had it to give, to be back there. In my waking dreams, and iu my sleeping visions, I frequently am therein spirit — wander by moonlight about those old classic shades; pursue my former studies; and above all, hold sweet communion with the cherished friends of my college days. As for this unintellectual, dirty, money-making, mam- mon-devoted city, 1 dislike it more and more. Oh for Cambridge, and its soothing, literary influences! But this may not be. And it is the student's, above all, the Christian Student's, duty to improve his mind, and be contented wherever Divine Pro- vidence may see fit to place him." Having graduated in 1835, he was admitted, in October of the same year, a member of the General Theological Seminary, on the Bishop Croes Scholarship, in the gift of the Bishop of the Diocese. During his residence there, as at the University, he was distinguished for his attractive qualities and his active usefulness ; devoting himself with great zeal to his studies, and exercising the most salutary influence on those around him. Before his course in the Seminary was ended, the E.t. Rev. Bishop Doane of New Jersey, who was his uncle by marriage, had stood as his god-father in bap- tism, and had been, for several years, his intimate friend and constant coun- sellor, being oppressed by the joint duties of his parish and of the Episco- pate, proposed to him to become his lay assistant; and, accordingly, he laboured some time in the capacity of catechist, with signal faithfulness and success. At the same time he was devoting himself with untiring assi- duity to his studies ; and when he was examined for Deacon's Orders, a venerable Presbyter, who was present, remarked that it was the best exam- ination he ever attended. He was ordained Deacon, by Bishop Doane, at Burlington, on Whitsunday of 1838 ; and Priest, by the same Prelate, on the 15th of March following. • Pun. Sena, by Kt. Rev. Bishop Doane. — MS. from Eev. Frederick Ogilby. BEXJAMIN DAVIS WINSLOW. 751 From the time of his first ordination, he became Assistant to the Rec- tor of St. Mary's Church, Bishop Doane ; and, for several months also supplied most acceptably the small vacant parish of Wellingborough, three miles from Burlington, with one service on each Sunday. The last ser- mon he preached was on the 12th of July, 1839. For more than a year before his death he had been a great sufferer, but the nature of his disease, which proved to be an internal cancer, was not at first known. But no sufferings of his own hindered his care for others, or his devotion to his work. It was about three months before his death that he was obliged gradually to give up his labours ; and though his decline was marked by suffering, often amounting to agony, he never betrayed the least symptom of an impatient or complaining spirit. The following impressive and pathetic account of his last hours is from the Sermon which Bishop Doano preached on the occasion of his death : — " It was ID}' privilege — and so I shall esteem it whilst I live — to spend the last hours of his life with him, watching by his bedside with her, to whom, with so many other blessings, I am in debt to this, that she brought us first together. For three days and three nights he had retained no sustenance, and never for one moment lost himself in sleep; being worn and harassed through that whole period with the most distressing symptoms of dissolution. But, as to the blessed Lord, so to his suffering ser- vant, in his last agony, angels seemed to minister. While we stood by him, his pain- ful symptoms gradually subsided, and he fell asleep. The brief oblivion of ten minutes refreshed him for the victory. He awoke comparatively bright and fi-esli; and expressed the possibility, though not the desire, of seeing another day. Soon, however, he began to sink, and spolse of an entire prostration of his strength. We saw that his time had come, and called for those whom he had desired to be with him at the last. While this was done, as he lay serene and still, he calmly raised his right hand, then as cold as monumental marble, and traced on his brow, as cold, the sign of the blessed Cross. I understood the omen. He was retracing his baptismal sign. He was renewing his baptismal dedication. He was professing the Crucified once more before the world. He was sealing himself for the sepulchre. He said no word, but all his countenance was peaceful, as if no trace of sickness or death were on him. Immediately I pronounced over him the Commendatory Benediction — 'Unto God's gracious mercy and protection we commit thee. The Lord make his face to shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee. The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee and give thee peace.' He said distinctly, 'Amen.' I added, — ' Behold the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world.' He turned his eyes to Heaven, and pointed to Him, throned upon the clouds of glory. This was his latest gesture. Shortly after, when I said to him. in the words of the Visitation Service, — ' The Almighty Lord, who is a most strong tower to all those who put their trust in Him, be now and evermore thy defence,' &c., — supposing that I designed by this to quiet any apprehensions of the struggle, he simply said — ' lam calm; I have hope in Christ; but I am very weak.' After this, he gradually sunk away; and at ten minutes before five, on Thursday morning, November 21, (1839,) breathed his life out, as an infant falls asleep upon his mother's bosom, — so quietly that none of us could tell which was his latest breath. As I left that chamber of decay, and went out into the clear morn- ing air, — the wild November wind howling across my path, and whirling the dry leaves; the ground spread with its thinnest, scantiest, coldest covering of snow; the full moon shining in all the glory of its first creation, and beaming back again from the clear bosom of our beautiful river — I felt how perfect the reflection was of the transition which had taken place within. I felt how cold, and bleak and cheerless nature is, while grace and Heaven are clear, and bright and beautiful. I remembered that while ' all fiesh is grass, and all the glory thereof as the flower of grass,' ' the Word of our God,' and ' he that doeth the will of God,' ' abideth forever.' " Mr. Winslow was very happily married, on the 8th of November, 1838, to Augusta Catherine Barnes. She was born on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, but her mother, Mrs. Lippinoott, then a second time a widow, resided in Burlington. He left one child, a son, who, with his widow, still (1857) survives. 752 EPISCOPALIAN. In 1841, a volume was published under the following title : — ■' The True Catholic Churchman, in his Life and in his Death : The Sermons and Poeti- cal Remains of the Eev. Benjamin Davis Winslow, A. M., Assistant to the Rector of St. Mary's Church, Burlington, N. J.; to which is prefixed the Sermon preached on the Sunday after his decease, with notes and addi- tional memoranda, by the Rt. Rev. George Washington Doane, D. D., LL.D., Bishop of the Diocese, and Rector of St. Mary's Church." This volume was republished the next year, at Oxford, England. FROM THE REV. FREDERICK OGILBY, D. D., ASSISTANT MINISTEK OF TKINITT CHURCH, NEW YOaK. NewTokk, December 5, 1857. Eev. and dear Sir: You ask me to give you some personal recollections of my lamented friend Winslow. I had full opportunity of knowing him well. We were chums in the Seminary. I remember well the day he came and asked me if I would be his room-mate. He said it was very much like popping the awful question. And truly he seemed as much abashed as if I had been of another sex, and he had come to ask me to share his lot in life, rather than a room with two small dormitories, furnished each with a hard wooden bunk! I knew him then in the close companionship of next to wedded life. I knew liiui in that place, dear old St. Mary's Parsonage, which he might well call home. I knew him as a Parish Minister, swift on every errand of mercy. I stood beside his sick-bed, when the oil in the lamp of life was low, and the flame was flickering in the socket. But years, hard years of life's discipline have passed away since then. I have indeed a pleasant and vivid remembrance of what Winslow then was, but hardly particular enough for purposes of biography. You maj'^ have heard some plea- sant song, whose words and melody combined, thrilled the deepest and tender- est chords of your heart. The words have soon passed from memory, while the sweet harmony still lingers and vibrates through your soul. Such is my remem- brance of the short and happy days of converse with Winslow. The wear and tear of many years have rubbed the words from memory; but the harmony, the general impression made upon the mind and heart by close intercourse with piich ;i man, becomes inwrought with the very texture of our life, and is no less enduring. I remember this cherished friend as one of the gentlest of gentlemen; though I cannot recall the words in which this gentleness found expression. I remember him as one of the most witty — most sportive and playful in his inno- cent use of wit, of all the men I have ever met. Yet most of his witty speeches, except a few treasured ones too personal to mention, have been crowded out of mind by more common occupants. Though he was in reality one of the most genial men I ever knew, there was an outside crust — very thin indeed — of sol- emn gravity. His manner, to those who did not know him intimately, partook of the grave character which became his ancestry. And I have seen him, at times, with his large, solemn looking spectacles, with a falling collar, and favourite black cloak, when, only by the "malignant" cut of his hair, you might have thought he had just stepped out of the May Flower. But if you looked through the windows of his spectacles, you would see a glowing, cheer- ful light beaming from a bright, and even merry, pair of eyes, ever twinkling as his joyous heart prompted some mirthful speech. I fear that our room would have been very uncomfortable quarters for Dr. Johnson, if history justly attri- butes to him such abhorrence of puns! BENJAMIN DAVIS WIN SLOW. 753 But with all this, Winslow was prc-eminentlj' a serious and an earnest man. His genius — for he had genius — was not of that runaway sort, which will not endure harness. It was submissive to discipline, and never neglectful of duty. He was studious, methodical, orderly, both as to mind and body. He implicitly obeyed that charge of Old Herbert : " Let thy mind's sweetness hare its operation "On thy body, clothes, and habitation." And withal he was a true Poet, — born so, not made. But he put a curb on ills Pegasus, and would only take an occasional ride on him for exercise. After this, he would quietly dismount, and sit down, without a groan, to Pearson, and even to Mosheim! His character was most remarkable in this — that, with wit, humour, fancy, imagination, more than falls to the common lot of mortals, he was controlled by a sober judgment, and diligently carried out the most prac- tical views of dut}'. It is a very common notion that the poetic and the practical element cannot harmonize. Winslow disproved this fallacy. A glance at his published ser- mons will show how thoroughly practical they are — how plain, how suited to the apprehension and wants of the common mind of the world. They are strong, vigorous, masculine in style, wholly free from the rhapsody and flightiness of that kind of " poetry," which often shows its long ears from under the lion's skill of prose. His preaching was a true type of his practice in his brief, but most faithful, ministry. He felt that his Master had given him a work to do, and he did it. Some monitor within may have whispered to him that his day was to be a short one — certainly he worked in it with all his might. How many of Christ's poor, sick and afflicted ones had cause to bless that short and glorious ministry of the young poet, who, in the time of life's brightest da3r-dreams kindling in his minstrel-heart, hushed his Muse to wake the everlasting songs of joy in the heart of sorrow, sickness, and poverty. His hushed Muse awoke once more; but it was only to cheer him on his death-bed, to comfort his sorrowing friends with a sweet voice of consolation, realizing most truly those well applied lines of another hard-working practical poet: " Death darkens his eye and nnplumes his wings, " And his sweetest song is the last he sings." I have given you thus, at your kind request, my dear Sir, a very hasty, gene- eral and imperfect sketch even of my own remembrance of a dear and loved brother, whose greater joy it was to be delivered from an evil world, and in the early days of a devoted ministry, to enter into the joy of his Lord. I have not answered your question respecting his preaching — I never heard him preach, except that most eloquent Sermon, whose music haunts my memory, set forth in a holy, devotional, earnest life, consecrated to the glory of God and the good of man. I remain. Rev. and dear Sir, Very truly yours, FREDERICK OGILBT.- Voi, V. 95 754 EPISCOPALIAN. PHILIP WILLIAM WHITMEL ALSTON* 1838—1847. Philip William Whitmel Alston, the youngest child of Philip and Elizabeth (Johnston) Alston, was horn at the family residence on Fishing Creek, in Warren County, N. C, on the 28th of February, 1813. His mother, a lady of rare excellence, and deeply concerned for the spiritual interests of her children, dedicated him to the Lord on the day of his birth, and she took care that his education was conducted in accordance with that solemn transaction. When he was about five years old, the family removed to Edenton, N. C., and here he was taught the first rudiments of learning by a young lady, his cousin, who ever afterwards evinced the deepest interest in the progress and welfare of her pupil. At this tender age, he began to exhibit a great fondness for books, and was especially interested in the stories of the Bible, and in the examination of maps. A direction seems to have been given to his reading at this time, which continued till the close of life. He constructed several beautiful maps, and formed tables of all the mountains in the world, — which still remain as monuments of his early industry, ingenuity, and taste. He commenced his academic course under the instruction of the Rev. John Avery, t D. D., of Edenton, N. C. In 1822, he was placed at the Shocco Springs Academy, near Warrenton, in the same State, then under the superintendence of the Rev. Philip B. Wiley. t And at a still later period, he passed to the care of Dr. John Rogers, at Hillsboro', under • Memoir by Et. Eev.' Bishop Otey. f John Avery was graduated at Yale College in 1813, and was admitted to Deacon's Orders on the 22d of October, 1817, by Bishop Kemp, of Maryland. In 1820, he was Rector of St. Paul's, Edenton, N. C., and he is believed to have been there from soon after the time of his ordination. In that Rectorship he continued till December, 1835, when he removed to Greene County, Ala., whither many of his friends in North Carolina had gone before him. There ho established a church called St. John^s in the Prairies, in which he officiated, as he did also at Greensborough. In the Convention of the Church of Alabama, February 8, 1836, he was chosen its President. He died January 17, 1837, on board the steamboat on which he was returning home from Mobile; and so quiet was his death that the passenger in the berth above him did not know that he was dead until he attempted to arouse him in the morning. He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the University of North Carolina, in J833. At the Convention in June following, this honourable testimonial was given to his memory : — " Resolved that, while we meekly and humbly submit to this afflictive dispensation, we sin- cerely and deeply mourn the loss which, in consideration of his extensive theological learning, his long experience in the ministry and councils of the Church, his sound judgment and discretion, his deep devotion to the interests and distinctive principles of the Church, has thereby been occasioned to the ecclesiastical councils of this infant Diocese. J Philip Biincm Wiley was a son of the Rev. Rufus Wiley, a Methodist preacher of no small distinction in his day, and was born in Newborn, N. C, August 13, 1804. He wns edu- cated in the same place, and pursued his theological studies under the Rev. Richard S. Mason, D. D., now (1868) of Raleigh, N. 0. He was originally himself a Methodist preacher, but subsequently joined the Episcopal Church, and was ordained Deacon by Bishop Ravenscroft in 1826. Shortly after this, he took charge of the congregation at Elizabeth City, in connection with the Male Academy in that town. The following year (1827) ho was ordained Priest, during the session of the Convention at Newborn. Prom Elizabeth City he was called to the Parish of St. John's, Payetteville, inPebruary, 1828, where he was freed from the labour of teaching a school. Having remained in this place about eighteen months, he resigned his charge on account of ill health, and, after travelling, for the benefit of his health, during the summer months, settled again at Washington, N. C. Thence he returned to Elizabeth City; thence removed to Pittsborough ; and thence to Wadesborough, where he took charge of the church for a short time; and thence, on account of declining health, retunied to Pittsborough, where he died of consumption on the 19th of August, 1840. His death was eminently peaceful ■and happy, as his life had been consistent and useful. PHILIP WILLIAM WniTMEL ALSTON. 755 whom he completed his preparation for entering College. In January, 1826, when he was a little less than thirteen years old, he was admitted a member of the University of North Carolina. During his whole college course, notwithstanding his extreme youth, he was distinguished not only for amenity of temper and manners, and a high tone of morality, but for close attention to his studies, and corresponding improvement in them. He received the degree of Bachelor of Arts in 1829 ; and remained at the University, as a resident graduate, about one year afterwards. During this period he devoted himself more particularly to Composition and His- tory, and occasionally indulged his taste in writing Poetry also. Some of his poetical effusions are said to possess no ordinary merit. In 1831, he removed to the neighbourhood of Randolph, Tenn., where his elder brother settled a plantation, which became the residence of his mother and famil}'. Here, for two or three years, he was occupied chiefly in reading, and without any more definite object than the general culture of his mind, or the gratification of his intellectual tastes. His excellent mother, however, who had early dedicated him to God, in the hope that he might become a minister of the Gospel, never lost sight of this object ; and she lost no opportunity for urging it upon his attention. His mind, which had had a general serious direction from childhood, now became more deeply impressed with Christian truth and obligation, and he availed' him- self of an early opportunity of making a public profession of his faith by becoming a member of the Episcopal Church. At the first visit made by the Bishop of the Diocese, to Randolph, in 1834, he and an elder brother offered themselves for the rite of Confirmation, and the same day were received to the Holy Communion. There was then no church edifice at Randolph, and these services were held in the public room of a hotel. The question whether it was his duty to devote himself to the ministry now urged itself upon his mind with great force, and for some time occa- sioned him no small solicitude. As a lay delegate from the congregation of St. Paul's Churchi Randolph, he attended the Diocesan Conventions of 1834 and 1835, and, as a lay deputy from the Diocese, the General Conven- tion of 1835. He became greatly interested in the scenes and duties in which he was thus called to engage, and this probably had much to do in maturing the purpose that gave complexion to his subsequent life. On the 12th of February, 1836, he was admitted as a candidate for Holy Orders. In March, 1837, he took up his residence with the Rt. Rev. Bishop Otey, under whose care he prosecuted his theological studies with great diligence for a year ; at the end of which time he returned to his mother and family, on account of the sudden death of a beloved brother. At the Convention held at Clarksville, June 24, 1838, he was ordained Deacon by Bishop Otey, and immediately after returned to the neighbour- hood of Randolph, where he continued to exercise his ministry, as oppor- tunity offered, till February 24, 1839, when he was unanimously called by the Vestry to the charge of Calvary Church, Memphis. Here he remained, a highly acceptable and useful minister, till the close of life. In February, 1840, he was married to Elizabeth Carey, a descendant of the ancient and respectable family of the Careys of Virginia. But this union, which promised much for the happiness of both parties, was of brief ygg EPISCOPALIAN. continuance. In little more than a year Mrs. Alston was suddenly stricken down by a violent attack of disease incident to the climate, which termi- nated fatally in a few hours. The bereaved husband, not being able to command the services of any other minister of his own communion, and being unwilling that the remains of his wife should be committed to the grave, without the solemn form of words, to which he was so much attached, being pronounced over them, he actually so far mastered the keen sensi- bilities of his bleeding heart that he read the Burial Service. In May, 1840, he was admitted to the Order of Priesthood, by Bishop Otey, during the meeting of the Convention at La G-range. The next year he attended the Greneral Convention as a clerical deputy from the Diocese of Tennessee ; as he did likewise in 1844. In 1844, he was married to Martha Booth, — a lady every way worthy of his choice, who, with one son, — the fruit of this marriage, survived him. In the early part of June, 1847, he left home to attend the Annual Dio- cesan Convention at Columbia. His journey was attended with much fatigue and exposure, and no doubt laid a foundation for the malady that terminated his life. On his arrival at the house of Bishop Otey, near Columbia, late in the afternoon of the 15th of June, he found himself greatly exhausted, and the next morning was not sufficiently recovered to leave his room. A slight degree of fever in the course of that day led to the calling in of a physician ; but as yet there was nothing to excite alarm. The day following, however, (the 17th,) the indications of an approaching congestive chill began plainly to develop themselves ; and from that time all medical skill was powerless, and all hope of his recovery abandoned. His death took place, the same evening, before eleven o'clock. Every cler- gyman, with one exception, was present to witness the solemn scene ; and the impression which it made upon them was well-nigh overwhelming. When the Convention assembled the next morning, the Bishop announced the melancholy intelligence of his death in a brief Address, and several Resolutions were unanimously passed by the Convention, bearing the most honourable and affectionate testimony to his character, and expressive of their deep sense of the loss sustained by themselves and the Church at large. A Committee was appointed to take in charge the body of the deceased, and convey it to his friends at Randolph ; and the members of the Convention, after proper services at the church, accompanied it, in proces- sion, beyond the limits of the town. FROM THE RT. REV. JAMES H. OTEY, D. D., BISHOP OF THE DIOCESE) OF TENNESSEE. Memphis, March 22, 1858. Dear Sir: Your request that I should communicate to you my recollections of the Rev. Philip W. W. Alston, I feel unwilling to decline, while yet the extreme pressure of my ofiScial and other engagements forbids my writing half that my memory would supply, or my heart dictate. I was in intimate relations with him for many years. I administered to him the rite of Confirmation; gave direction in some measure to his thoughts in regard to entering the ministrjs ordained him both as Deacon and as Priest; and had an opportunity of observ- ing his whole course as a minister of the Gospel until it was terminated by death. I can truly say that I consider him as having possessed rare qualifica- PHILIP WILLIAM WHITMEL ALSTON. 757 tions for the sacred office; and as deserving a place among our most excellent ministers, whether of the living or dead. He was distinguislied for great amenity of temper and conciliating manners, and iiad a face perfectly radiant with good-will. Hence he was a great favourite among his fellow-students in College; and the ofBcers also regarded him with marked favour. When he arrived at manhood, and especially after he entered the ministry, his genial and kindly spirit was a passport to the favourable regards of all who were privileged to know him. It was this no doubt that contributed greatly to his popularity and efficiency as a Christian minister. He was a man of warm affections, and none entered more readily into a participation of the sorrows of the afflicted, or shared more largely in their sympathies. The fine moral qualities which belonged to him by nature were wonderfully improved and elevated by the sanctifying power of the Gospel. But he had a vigorous and commanding intellect, as well as a warm and gene- rous heart. The facility with which he acquired knowledge, and the readiness with which he grasped the meaning of an author, as it seemed almost by intui- tion, were very remarkable. The following passage in an Address whicli I delivered to the Convention on the occasion of his death, contains, perhaps, as good an epitome of his intellectual character as I am able to furnish :—" In the stores of his varied and accurate information; in vigour of intellect; in sound- ness of judgment; in the readiness with which he would lay hold of, unfold and make clear, difficult subjects; in the happiness and appositeness of his illustra- tions, making all arts, sciences, trades, and the outspread volume of nature, tributary to his purpose in this respect; in the facility with which he would extract from an author every thing valuable, and throw aside that which was merely accessory and useless; in the fertility of imagination; in the power of invention, and in the beauty, strength, and harmony of his composition; I deem it no extravagance to say that I have never known his superior of the same age, if indeed his equal can be found any where in the Church. His mind was admi- rably balanced, and possessed of vast powers of comprehension. And what may appear the crowning grace of his character, with all his admirable qualities of mind was combined a most childlike and winning simplicitj'. All his learn- ing and all his talents were laid as an humble offering at the foot of the Cross." Mr. Alston was distinguished for his taste for the fine arts and kindred sub- jects. He possessed no inconsiderable skill in limning and drawing, and the col- lections of drawings and engravings which he made, exhibit many rare and beautiful specimens, both in design and execution. In his hbrary, which the munificence of a kind relative enabled him to enlarge far beyond the usual limits of clergymen's libraries, are found some of the most valuable theological works ever published, including particularly the writers of the Elizabethan age. It was through the labours of the worthies of the English Reformation, that he sought to inform his own mind, and from these rich storehouses of learning and piety, he drew the materials to illustrate Divine truth and instruct the people. As a preacher, he was distinguished for great force and clearness both of thought and expression; for well considered and well digested views of Divine truth; and for the most earnest and the most honest dealing with the conscience and the heart. The volume of his discourses, which has been published since his death, will take rank with the best class of that kind of productions that have appeared in our country. Mr. Alston's manner in the pulpit was grave and attended with very little action. His language and tones were earnest and impressive. Occasionally, though rarely, when warning sinners of their danger, his voice would ring out like a clarion, and cause men to draw in tiieir breath, as if expecting to hear the thunders of judgment break over their heads. 758' EPISCOPALIAN. Mr. Alston was a decided and earnest Churchman, and never hesitated to defend his own views, or expose what he believed to be the errors of others, on suitable occasions; but he did it with so kindly a spirit that I am not aware that he ever gave offence. His intercourse with the ministers and members of other denominations was always most respectful and kind, and it is not known that he ever had an unpleasant passage with any one of them. Mr. Alston was about five feet eight inches in height, and well proportioned in his whole frame. His head might have furnished a model to the artist for study, as of the finest classical form. His eye was bright and expressive, indicating the emotions of a soul full of sensibility, and alive to all that is ennobling, affect- ing and tender in humanity. With best wishes for your success in your noble work, and with considerations of the highest personal regard, I am your friend, JAS. H. OTEY. FEOM THE REV. E. H. CRESSET, D. D., RECTOR OF SI. PBTER'a OHnRCH, AUBURN, N. Y. Auburn, August 12, 1858. My dear Doctor: In complying with your request — as I do with great cheer- fulness — to furnish you some personal recollections of the late Reverend Philip W. W. Alston of the Diocese of Tennessee, I shall speak of him as I remember him in social intercourse, among his books, and in his professional offices. I only regret that I have leisure to offer you nothing better than this imperfect monogram of my dear friend, from whom it pleased God so early to take off the burden of life, that he might transplant him to his Heavenly Paradise. In social intercourse Mr. Alston was, in an eminent degree, genial and cordial, warm in his attachments, and faithful in his friendships. His stores of varied and accurate knowledge, his fine tastes in Literature and Art, his sparkling humour and rich imagination, and his cultivated conversational powers, made him a most interesting and instructive companion in the circles where he was really known, and felt himself at home. He was not fitted to shine in promis- cuous society. He never attempted to shine any where. His qualities were of another sort. A noticeable trait in his character, and the one with which I was most impressed at the time my personal intercourse with him commenced, was his perfect silnplicity, his retiring modesty, his ingenuous humility. He pos- sessed rare endowments of intellect, which, with his thorough mental discipline, made him a man of acknowledged power — a man of mark among his compeers. He had more professional and general learning than any other man of his years, whom it has been my privilege to know. But he was entirely free from preten- sion and personal display. Gentle, frank, cheerful, kind and sympathizing, he fastened his friends to him as " with hooks of steel." But most charming and sacred was the mutual confidence and affection which subsisted between him and those who, by the ties of nature, were dearer to him than friends. It was in the bosom of his beloved family, and among his kindred, that the sweet and gentle spirit of Alston shone out with its purest lustre. Home was his delight, and to make its inmates happy was a duty which he well knew how to discharge, and of which he was never weary. I should rather say that, instead of a duty, it was in him an impulse to which his generous heart continually responded. Faithful and affectionate in all his domestic and social relations, his early death left a blank in his family, and in the circle of his friends, which no earthly object could fill. Mr. Alston lived much among his books. "With his tastes, it could not be otherwise. His collection was large, and, in the department of Theology espe- cially, very valuable. His books were not kept for show, or collected to gratify PHILIP WILLIAM WHITMEL ALSTON. 759 a bibliomania, although there were rare volumes ia his possession, which would have been exceedingly precious in the eyes of those who are curious in these antiquarian wares. They were his companions— they furnished daily food for his intellect. In his earlier years, he had been, I suspect, a very miscellaneous reader, — devouring almost any thing that came to hand. But he had left off reading for amusement, or merely to provide aliment to an active intellectual uature. lie mastered, with wonderful facility, the contents of books, gathering up all that was valuable, and rejecting whatever was useless, and laying up stores of facts and arguments from which he could draw at pleasure to illustrate Divine truth, and furnish instruction for the people to whom he ministered. Ilis habits of study were like those of many, perhaps the larger number, of young clergymen. He was addicted to late hours, often protracting his work long into the morning. With as much system as most men, he yet liked to feel the pressure of necessity. Under such circumstances, he would rally all his forces and accomplish a large amount of solid work in a short space of time. He composed with great facility, but most of the sermons he left are full of altera- tions and interlineations, so that, in some instances, it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to trace his meaning. His handwriting, when done at leisure, was singularly beautiful. I have before me the manuscript of a Conventional Sermon preached by him in 1842, which he sent to me in New York to be pub- lished, agreeably to the request of the Body before whom it was delivered. The manuscript contains seven pages, letter-sheet size. The printed sermon contains forty pages. It is written in the Roman letter, with nearly the perfection of character, and with quite as much distinctness, as the types produced. He had acquired so great facility in this method that, in his hastily written letters, and in most of his sermons, this character is used, in part, if not entirely. But the crowning glory of Alston's character was, that all his talents, learn- ing, and activities, were devoutly consecrated to the service of God. In his prof essional duties he was earnest, faithful, and unwearied, never spar- ing his efforts, or taking counsel of self-indulgence, when duty called. For eight years he toiled patiently and perseveringly in the field in which God's providence had placed him, — his first and only spiritual charge. He "taught the people committed to his cure and «harge with all diligence." He gathered under his ministrations a large congregation of intelligent and influential per- sons. He built a new and costly church edifice. He was " ready with all faith- ful diligence, to banish and drive away from the Church all erroneous and strange doctrines contrary to God's word; and to use both public and private monitions and exhortations, as well to the sick as to the whole within his cure, as need required and occasion was given." Nor did he ever fail to " maintain and set forward, as much as in him lay, quietness, peace, and love among all Christian people." Such was the tenor of his vows, when he received, from the hands of his beloved spiritual Father and Friend, authority for " the ofSce and work of a Priest in the Church of God," and in the spirit of these vows he lived and laboured until it pleased the Master to call him to his rest. He made large sacri- fices for the Church. He spent a considerable portion of his inheritance to pro- mote her interests. He was always prompt, faithful, self-sacrificing, and untir- ing in his work, and the example he set before his people was that of a pure, gentle, humble and earnest disciple of the Master whom he called them to serve. His work and sacrifices were not without adequate fruits. He was permitted to witness the unity and growing prosperity of his parish, and he was univer- sally respected and revered in the community in which he lived. I should not be doing full justice to the memory of my friend, if I neglected to add that Mr. Alston's views of the doctrines and polity of the Church were thorouo-h and decided, — the results of the clear convictions of his reason and 760 EPISCOPALIAN. judgment. He was of the school of Bishop Ravenecroft and Hobart, and an able defender of the principles which he conscientiously held. As a public speaker, Alston was dignified, graceful and earnest. His voice was fine, and his manner impressive, and, without any tricks or contrivances of oratory, he was yet able to interest a congregation as few men can do. But not content merely to interest them, for the time, he sought to instruct them in the truths of Revelation — to develop the principle of the spiritual life; to build them up in faith and holiness. ' It was a sad day for the Church in his Diocese, when Alston was suddenly called from his work to his reward. It was a heavy sorrow to his .friend.s; a crushing bereavement to his kindred; and many tears of fopd affection have been shed over the grave where all that was mortal of him awaits the resurrection of the just. We give God " hearty thanks for the good examples of all those Iiis ser- vants, who, having finished their course in faith, do now rest from their labours. And we beseech Him that we, with all those who are departed in the true faith of his holy name, may have one perfect consummation and bliss, both in body and soul, in his eternal and everlasting glory, through Jesus Christ, our LOBD." Very truly yours, E. H. CRESSET. JOHN DAVID OGILBY, D. D* 1838—1851. John David Ogilby, the eldest son of Leonard and Eliza (Darley) Ogilby, was born in Dublin, (Ireland,) on the 30th of December, 1810, and came to this country when he was less than six years old. His early education was somewhat irregular, and »t one time he had nearly determined on a life of business ; though he finally resolved on going to College, and was admitted to the Freshman class in Columbia College, in the city of New York, when he was less than sixteen years of age. He early evinced a remarkable facility at acquiring knowledge ; and so uncommon were his attainments that, while yet a member of the Junior class, he was selected by the venerable Dr. Harris, then the President, to be the first Rector of the Grammar School of Columbia College. Thid place he filled with distinguished success, and, at the same time, kept up his college studies, so that he graduated with his class in 1829 ; though, in doing so, he taxed his faculties beyond their power of endurance, and laid the foundation of a disease from which he was never free till it terminated in death. During his connection with the Grammar School, he published an edition of Jacob's Latin Reader, with notes partly translated from the German, and partly gathered from other sources. He also delivered an Address before the " Associate Society of New York," which was published, and in which the early maturity of his mind and the sobriety of his judgment are fully shown. MSS. from Mrs. Ogilby, and from his brother, Rov. Fredeiiok Ogilby, D. D. JOHN DAVID OGIIjBY. 761 After occupying this position for several years, he resigned it, leaving the school in a highly prosperous state, and, associated with the late Lorenzo L. Daponte, established a private school, which soon became large and flourishing. During this time he superintended a new edition of Vir- gil, and, in connection with Mr. Daponte, published also an edition of Lempriere's Classical Dictionary, which is believed to be the very best edition of that work that has appeared. In the year 1832, when he was only in his twenty-third year, he was elected Professor of Languages in Rutgers College. Here, while faith- fully discharging the duties of his Professorship, he prosecuted his Theo- logical studies, and was admitted in 1838, by the Bishop of New York, to the Order both of Deacon and Priest. During his connection with the College, he published two Addresses ; — one before the Philoclean Society, connected with the College, and one before the Citizens of New Brunswick, on the Fourth of July. At this time, he exercised his ministry as a vol- unteer, giving his services freely to all who needed them. His brother, Rev. F. Ogilby, held two parishes in the vicinity, and, during a European tour which he made, the Professor rendered them constant and most acceptable services. He resigned his place in the College in 1840. In 1841, he was elected to the Chair of Ecclesiastical History in the General Theological Seminary of the Protestant Episcopal Church, made vacant by the elevation of Dr. Whittingham to the Episcopate of Maryland. He accepted the place, and, with unremitting labour, by night and by day, set about preparing himself for the arduous duties of his new station. Dissatisfied with the usual text books, he struck out boldly a course of his own, giving to the students printed notes which he enlarged and illus- trated by oral and written lectures. These notes and lectures, containing a clear, vigorous and orderly presentation of the subject of Church His- tory, were indicative alike of the high character of his mind, and the extent and carefulness of his studies. In the spring of 1842, his health had become so much impaired that his physician urged him to try the effect of a voyage to Europe ; and, accord- ingly, he sailed for Liverpool in May ; and, after visiting his friends in England and Ireland, returned in September, with his health greatly improved, and resumed his labours. In 1842, he baptized two of the students of the Seminary by immersion in the Hudson River. In reply to the misapprehensions excited by this act, he published a work on Lay Baptism. The next year, (1843,) he published a Sermon preached before the Convention of New Jersey, enti- tled " Church Discipline as instrumental to Christian Unity." In 1844, he published " Lectures on the Church," which had a wide circulation in this country, and were republished in England, with strong commendation from the highest sources. In 1847, he published a Sermon addressed to the students of the Seminary, at the Annual Matriculation, entitled " The Christian Athlete;" in 1848, a Thanksgiving Sermon, delivered at Bur- lington, entitled " The Peril of Inconsideration to Nations;" and in 1849, a Sermon entitled " The Power of Goodness," preached at the Funeral of Dr. McDonald, of Sanford Hall, Flushing, L. I. He had projected a large Vol. V. 96 762 EPISCOPALIAN. work on Ecclesiastical History, for which he was thought to have been admirably qualified, but he lived only to commence it. In 1843, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the University of Pennsylvania. In the spring of 1846, he was obliged again to suspend his labours in the Seminary on account of physical prostration. From the beneficial effects of his former voyage, he determined again to cross the ocean ; and, accordingly, he made a short visit to England, and still shorter visits to Ireland, Scotland, and France, and everywhere met with friends from whom he received a most cordial welcome. He left New York in April, and returned thither in August, with his health apparently quite restored. In 1846, Dr. Ogilby was invited to become Rector of Grace Church, Newark, N. J., and his love for the pastoral office and the proper work of the ministry, in connection with the expressed wish of his Bishop, led him to accept the invitation. He, however, was subsequently induced by the urgent wishes of many friends of the Seminary, to recall his assent, and to continue in the Professorship. In the hope of permanently benefitting his health, he purchased a small place near Sing Sing, where he had no sooner begun to build a house for himself than he commenced, with the aid of kind friends, to build a small church for the accommodation of the neighbourhood, — intending himself to officiate in it. This beautiful edifice, crowning an eminence which over- looks the glorious Hudson, he nearly completed ; and since his death it has been finished by other hands, and a memorial window, presented by an eminent English Episcopalian, records the honoured name of its founder In November, 1849, Dr Ogilby's health had so far declined that his friends had but little hope of his recovery ; though, as a sort of last resort, it was determined that he should take a voyage to Europe. As he was on the eve of embarking, the following communication was addressed to him by a Committee of the Students of the Theological Seminary, which shows at once their high "appreciation of his services, and their affectionate respect for his character : — Chelsea, November 20, 1849. Ebv. John D. Osilbt, D. T). : Kev. and dear Sir: Now that you are upon the point of leaving the country, in search of that health which has been undermined, in part, by your unceasing labours for our instruction, we cannot suffer you to go out upon the great deep, without conveying to you the assurance of our deepest sympathy and hope, and giving you the promise of our prayers. Some of us, who have never enjoyed your instructions, cannot but feel deeply the need of a directing hand amid the mazes of the wide field on which we are entering : but, as for the rest of our number, who have hitherto been travelling on under your learned guidance, we have deeper and dearer feeling at this parting with one whom we felt that our hearts could trust, one who has always been to us not only a wise Teacher, but also a Friend, and an Elder Brother, and whose voice was ever wont to kindle and nourish in us that filial love and reverence for our Mother, the Church, wliicli glowed so warmly in his own breast. JOHN DAVID OGILBY. 763 You have our earnest liopos, our most fervent prayers, that the merciful kind- ness of the Most High may be over you, and that the healing hand of the Great Physician may speedily restore you, in firm and vigorous health, to those labours which we know to be not only our instruction, but also your delight. We are your sons in Christ and the Church, JOHN H. HOPKINS, Jk., ELVIN K. SMITH, WILLIAM WHITE MONTGOMEKY, Committee on behalf of the three several classes respectively. The following is Dr. Ogilby's reply : — New Tobk, November 21, 1849. To John Henry Hopkins, Jr., Elvin K. Smith, William White Montgomery- Committee, &c. : Mt DEAtt Fkiends: Though I may write but little, I cannot leave without acknowledging your affectionate letter, in behalf Qf yourselves and your fellow-students, whose favour it is pleasing to have won by (I trust) a straight-forward discharge of duty. I feel the more thankful for this result, because I am more and more convinced, the longer I live, that love, especially in the Church, is the constraining power for good. You do me only justice in according to me the desire " to kindle and nourish in you filial love and loyal reverence for our Mother, the Church." Most unfaith- ful and ungrateful would I be, were it otherwise; since, to her gracious nurture, under God, I owe the little that I am. Let me add that I leave you to pursue your studies in my department, unaided by what assistance my greater expe- rience might have given you, with comparatively little anxiety, because I know, at least of the two upper classes, that they are under the salutary influence of that love and reverence, which, in subordination to the love of Christ, from which they flow, are the most effectual restraints upon that self-will, common to us all, which is the parent of all error, heresy, and schism. But herein count not yourselves to have attained : rather strive to go on unto perfection. Believe me that the assurance of your sympathy, and the promise of your prayers, will be to me a comfort, whatever betide me on my journey. Whether permitted to join you or not in our pleasant labours, it shall ever, while life lasts, be my constant prayer that God may keep you by his grace from all temptations, and prepare you to serve Him in his Church, to his honour and glory, and your own eternal gain. I remain sincerely, your faithful Friend, and affectionate brother, JOHN D. OGILBY. Dr. Ogilby, accompanied by his wife, spent the following winter in France. — chiefly at Hyeres and Pau, where, under the influence of a delightful climate, he regained so much vigour as to enable him to enjoy life and to inspire the hope of his recovery. He was enabled, the next summer, to visit his relatives in Ireland and his friends in England ; and, on one occasion, — namely, when the Bishop of Montreal, who had just been consecrated, took leave of his congregation, in London, he assisted in the public services of the Church. 764 EPISCOPALIAX. Wherever he paused in his journey long enough to make acquaintances, he seems to have left an enduring and most favourable impression. A clergyman in England, whom he left a few days before his death, and who administered the Holy Communion to him in his sick room, wrote to his friends to testify his affectionate remembrance of him, and to assure them of the mature preparation which he evinced for his Master's coming. He reached Paris from England, at the close of December, in great feeble- ness, but still hoping that, by medical aid, he might gather strength enough for his voyage across the Atlantic. It was his earnest desire that he might, if it were his Heavenly Father's will, be permitted to reach home, and see his many loved and loving ones before his departure ; but here the bound of his earthly existence was fixed. But though death came at last suddenly, it did not take him by surprise. One who had the best oppor- tunities of knowing, testifies that, in his busiest hours and days, he was most regular and constant in his seasons of private devotion. The Bible, the Book of Common Prayer, Bishop Taylor's Holy Living and Dying, and Bishop Wilson's Sacra Privata, as his well used .and well marked copies are said to testify, were his daily companions and guides ; and he took them yet closer to his heart, as the hour of his departure drew near. He died in Paris, on Sunday morning, February 2, 1851, after being confined to his bed only two or three days, — in the forty-first year of his age. His lonely widow, with none but God to comfort her, brought his remains over the Atlantic, amidst the storms of winter. On reaching this country, his body was placed in Trinity Church, and the Funeral Service, under the direction of the Clergy and Vestry of that Ohurchj was attended by a crowded congregation. A highly pathetic and eloquent discourse was delivered on the occasion by Bishop Doane, and was published. Dr. Ogilby's remains rest in the Church-yard at New Brunswick. He was married on the 15th of April, 1834, to Cornelia D., r'aughter of Joseph Warren Scott, of New Brunswick, by whom he had two child- ren, — both deceased. She died on the 30th of April, 1837. On the 17th of January, 1839, he was married to Anna Helena, daughter of Dr. F. R. Smith, of New Brunswick, by whom ho had seven children. The widow and five children still (1857) survive. In the Parish Church at New Brunswick, there is a beautiful and highly elaborate memorial window, with appropriate inscriptions, bearing the name of Dr. Ogilby. In the adjacent burying-ground, his grave is marked by a chaste and solid head-stone, bearing, in the old English character, the following inscription : — To the beloved memory of JOHN DAVID OGILBY, D. D., Prof, of Eccl. History: Who entered into hia rest Feb. II, MDCCCLI. At the age of forty years, after a life of unreserved devotion to Christ and His Church. Though Dr. Ogilby was always a vigorous student, his life was still an active one. During the time that he held his Professorship in the Semi- JOUN DAVID OGILBT. ygg nary, he rarely passed a Sunday without preaching. He had no stated pastoral charge ; but he was for some months regularly engaged in Trinity Parish, and at another time had the charge of St. Luke's Church, New York. ^ And not only was he constant in preaching the Gospel, but he often visited the sick and administered to the wants of the poor. He also took deep interest in the general affairs of the Church ; was eminently active and energetic in the Convention of the Diocese of New Jersey, as well as in the General Convention, of which he was twice a member ; and was particularly influential in founding, and giving an early direction to, Burlington College. FROM THE REV. ALFRED STUBBS, D. D., HECTOR OF 0HBI8T CHDRCH, NEW BRUHSWICK. New Brunswick, January 16, 1858. My dear Sir: My acquaintance with Dr. Ogilby commenced in October, 1839, while he was Professor of Languages in Rutgers College. The Rectorship of Christ Church in this city having become vacant by the resignation of the Rev. John Croes, he was requested, by the Vestry, to take charge of the congrega- gation, until they could be supplied with a Rector. This duty he readily under- took, and, with his accustomed generosity, discharged, without remuneration, and in the most acceptable manner. While thus engaged, he informed me, by letter, that he had learned from Professor Whittingham, (who then occupied in the General Seminary the chair which he himself afterwards filled with scarcely less ability,) that I was not permanently settled, and expressed a hope that I would find in New Brunswick a suitable sphere of ministerial labour. From my first interview with liim, a week after this, up to the period of his death, I was in the habit of constant and familiar intercourse with him, and I may safel}' say that a more perfect character than his I have never met, and do not expect to meet again. He probably enjoyed better health at this time than at any other period of his life. His accurate scholarship and high classical attainments enabled him to discharge the duties of his Professorship without laborious study — he had, therefore, many leisure hours to devote to active exercise, and to the society of his friends. His mind was then free also from those corroding cares with which it was afterwards weighed down in the more active service of the Church. As a natural consequence of such favourable circumstances, he w.as remarkable for cheerfulness and hilarity. His spirits seemed never to flag at home or abroad. Whether in his study, or at the festive board, or in the social circle, his was always the merriest laugh, and the happiest repartee. It would be strange if such an agreeable and instructive companion did not find a cordial welcome by every hearth, and at every table. He could adapt himself with unaffected ease to any age or condition; and it is difficult to say whether young or old greeted him most heartily. Professor Ogilby made it a point to treat every one he met with the utmost politeness. He would take off his hat with as much deference to a poor labourer as to any gentleman of his acquaintance. This universal courtesy and kindness secured for him universal respect and affection; and hence the very general sor- row that prevailed when the sad news of his decease reached us. Disinterestedness was one of his most attractive characteristics. He would undergo any labour, undertake any journey, run any risk, in order to serve a friend. However feeble his own health might be, he could not resist the appeal of a brother clergyman to aid him in the performance of his duties. 76G EPISCOPALIAN. All who knew Dr. Ogilby wei-e astonished at the readiness with which he could master another man's thoughts, or give expression to his own. As an instance of this, I may mention that, in the General Convention of 1847, he immediately answered, without previous preparation, one of the most elaborate speeches ever made in that body, and produced on his side an array of authorities which a by-stander would have supposed he had been many months in collecting and arranging. A still more striking instance of the rapid movement of his mind came under my personal observation some years before. His work ou Lay Baptism, which exhibits much careful research, was composed during a few days of his summer vacation, — the books he used as authorities being chiefly taken from my own library. His learning, however, was not so extensive as profound; but he thought more, and thoroughly digested all that his capacious mind received. Whatever he learned was retained and stored up ready for use at the proper season. His mind resembled a well furnished armory — at a moment's warning he could lay his hand upon any implement of war he found it necessary to use; or like a perfect musical instrument, it was always in tune, "alwa3's ready to yield the harmonious concert of sweet sounds." As a preacher. Dr. Ogilby was remarkable for the thoughtfulness of his dis- course and the earnestness of his delivery. He spake " as one having authority," but " with the meekness of wisdom." No one that heard him could fail to be impressed by his manly appearance, and the peculiar raciness of his style. Every word was distinctly uttered, and every word was adapted to tell upon the heart and conscience. The eyes of all were fixed steadfastly upon him as soon as he arose, and were seldom withdrawn until his discourse was finished. Yet his sermons were not written to produce popular effect — he studied to be an instructive preacher, and eminently succeeded in conveying instruction in the most engaging form. To the interests of the Church of which he was a member and minister, he was most intensely devoted; ready to sacrifice at her altar every private feel- ing and pleasure that interfered in any degree with these higher obligations. He was, for this reason, regarded by many as both bigotted and intolerant; but such persons neither understood his principles, nor could they appreciate his magnanimous spirit. Decided and uncompromising in his own views, he was yet charitable to those who differed from him; and neither respected nor loved a man less for being, as he himself was, true to his own convictions, and decided in maintaining them. A person who saw Dr. Ogilby only in the discharge of his ofBcial duties, would hardly believe that so much determination and even sternness, as he sometimes manifested, on particular occasions, could consist with so much gentleness and affection, as constantly appeared in his social and domestic intercourse. He was the soul of whatever company he was in, — " the cynosure of every eye;" and even the coldest and hardest could not help being enlivened and softened by his genial warmth and affable deportment. 1 must not omit to say that he was remarkable for his attention to little children. As an illustration of this, I may mention that, during his last illness, after an absence of nearly two years from us, so tender was his recollection of some young friends whom he left behind, that he made it his business to purchase for each of them an appropriate toy, suited to the age and sex, on which he carefully inscribed the name of the child for whom it was designed. He little imagined the priceless value his own death was so Soon to affix to the last mementos of his unwavering affection. T am, my dear Sir, Very respectfully and sincerely yours, ALFRED STUBBS. JOHN DAVID OGILBT. 757 FROM THE RT. REV. G. W. DOANE, D. D., LL. D. RiVEKSiDE, December 12, 1857. My dear Sir : Your request for my recollections of Dr. Ogilby it is a labour of love for me to comply with; for he was an inmate, for twelve years, not of my house only, but of my heart; an elder brother to my children; the sharer of uiy closest thoughts; the partner of my counsels and my cares; next to me iihviiys in the hour of trial; and in a sickness that was only not a sickness unto death, administering to me the holiest consolations of our religion under the very shadow of the grave. When he died, I lamented his loss most deeply; and I am glad to do what I can to embalm his memory. But the attempt to convey a just impression of Dr. Ogilby's character is strangely embarrassed by its sin- gular completeness, consistency, and harmony. It strikes you as a whole, rather than in any of its parts. Like some exquisite mosaic, where an infinite variety of tints and shades combine to make a perfect picture. I shall not attempt a philosopliical analysis. I shall but strike off from my heart, as it retains them, and forever will, the beautiful and graceful features which made up the portrait- ure. There was in Dr. Ogilby a singular vitality and vividness. He was always all alive. You never could mistake him or his meaning. No one that saw him once could fail to get the most distinct impression. It was not in the eager glance of his keen eye. It was not in the well defined and sculptured outline of his face. It was not in his direct, straight-forward, positive approach. It was all these: and it was more. It was a kind of radiance that beamed from him. A light from within — luce di dentro — as the Italian artists call it. You felt it, though you might not think of it; and, when it had been felt, it never was for- gotten. He was a man of wonderful reality. He has been called an earnest man; but that was only part of it. No one could ever doubt him. He gave you all his heart. He gave it to whatever he undertook. lie could do nothing for appear- ance. He had no tolerance for shams. He went half way in nothing. He had the highest standard, and held himself up to it. The true foundation of this portion of his character was genuine humility. I remember well when he was appointed to the Ecclesiastical History Professorship. His studies had not lain that way. He was to succeed a man of rare ability and wonderful attainments. He was to do it at short notice. He was to do it with imperfect and uncertain health. He came at once to see me. He opened all his case. He told me of Iiis doubts and difficulties. He laid his plans before me. He desired my judg- ment as to their judiciousness. He felt much more than his true inadequacy to the work. He proposed much more than its just requirements called for. He avowed, in deep humility, his self-devotion to the enterprise. He confessed, with perfect artlessness, his fears for the result; and he applied, in his own playful way, the encouragement which I gave him, in the homely distich, which, he thought, described his case, and stated his defence : ' He hobbled ; but his heart was good : " Could he go faster than he could?" When Dr. Ogilby had given himself to any object, he had entirely given himself. If he was to meet me at some point, on an Episcopal Visitation, he was there, if he had to walk. When it was thought that he might serve a great and holy cause, by going to England in its behalf, he had decided while the proposal was half uttered. It was the same in the class.-room. It was the same in the library. It was the same everywhere. What he did was always heart-work. He did it with his might. 768 EPISCOPALIAN. He was of that exquisite tenderness wliich only women and brave men pos- sess. You saw it, or you felt it ratlier, in a thousand different ways. In its larger developments of hospitality and generosity, he never was surpassed. It was even more attractive in its minor forms. He was thoughtful in the smallest things. The proprieties of his tenderness were perfect. When a dear friend had triumphed in a struggle more than for life, he hastened, from the rejoicings of the hour, to bear the tidings to an anxious woman. When a servant, who had come from where his family resided, followed his dead wife to the grave, he took his arm and walked with him, and wept with him. And his last public act was to leave his bed of sickness, to preach the funeral sermon for a beloved physician. "His head was good enough," one writes of him; " but what a heart! I loved him as a man might love a woman." There followed from all this an irresistible attractiveness. I had abundant opportunities to judge of this. He was certain to be with me when he could be, at the Visitations of my Diocese; and the welcome which I always found, at every hearth, was doubled when he was with me. He was alike at home in the most elegant society, and among the poorest and the plainest; and every face was brighter wlien he came. To children he was most especially attractive; and when he visited St. Mary's Hall, or Burlington College, it made a sunshine in the cloudiest day. He was a man of wonderful eflSciency. He would certainly have excelled in any line of life. His business talents were of the highest order. He was as energetic in execution as he was skilful in design; and prompt alike in both. With ordinary health, how much he might have brought about! Had he attained the allotted threescore years and ten, what limit to the results of such ability and devotion! But it was not to be so. He never had been young. He had done more than man's work, when he was a boy. He had always lain under a man's responsibilities. He had lived his life out at thirty-nine. He had attained, in his short life, a most extensive influentialness. It was intuitively granted to him. It was the natural tribute to such reality, such ten- derness, and such efBciency. For the learning of the scholar, for the prudence of the counsellor, for tlie helping hand of the executive, how many looked to him, and leaned on him! How manj', alas, have missed him, since he has departed! Most faithfully, your friend, G. W. DOANE. JAMES CHISHOLM.* 1840—1855. James Chisholm, son of William and Martha (Vincent) Chisholm, was born in Salem, Mass., on the 30th of September, 1815. His father was a Scotch gentleman, who migrated to this country in the vicissitudes of com- mercial life, and first settled in Boston, but afterwards removed to Salem where most of his family have since resided. His mother was the grand- daughter of Matthew Vincent, an Italian gentleman from Tuscany. The subject of this sketch lost his father, when he was only twelve years old, and had been in the High School at Salem about six months. As he was a youth of more than ordinary intellectual promise, and of great * Memoir by D. H. Conrad, Egq, JAMES CHISHOLM. 769 natural loveliness of character, it was resolved by the other members of the family that his father's design of giving him a collegiate education should be carried out at their expense; and, accordingly, in March, 1830, he entered the Latin School in his native town with a view to prepare for College. In due time he was entered at Harvard, and through his whole course maintained, a high rank for both scholarship and behaviour, and enjoyed in an uncoAimon degree the good-will of both his teachers and fel- low-students. Having graduated with honour in 1836, he accepted an invitation to become assistant teacher in an Academy at Charlestown, Jef- ferson County, Va. Here his bland and conciliating manners, as well as his unexceptionable moral character and fine literary accomplishments, made him many friends, and his name is still gratefully remembered and cherished in that neighbourhood. Mr. Chisholm had a pious mother, who was duly attentive to his Chris- tian education, and he was accustomed, during his early years, to attend, with his father's family, upon the ministry of the Rev. Brown Emerson, 1). D. ; but it does not appear that he had any enduring religious impres- sions, previous to his going to Virginia. It was while he was attending the Episcopal Church at Charlestown, and on occasion of the administra- tion of the Holy Communion, that his mind was first seriously directed to his immortal interests ; though he did not, for some time after, actually become a member of the Church. After remaining at Charlestown a year, from the autumn of 1836 to the autumn of 1837, — he went to Washington City, where, for a year and a half, he taught a select classical school; and while there, after due reflection and examination, united himself with the Protestant Episcopal Church, and about the same time formed the purpose to devote himself to the ministry in that connection. He was confirmed in Washington on the 24th of February, 1839. In April following, he left Washington, and became a member of the Middle class in the Theological Seminary of Virginia, distant from Wash- ington about seven miles. Having pursued his studies here till October, 1840, he was admitted to Deacon's Orders by Bishop Meade, whose Ser- mon on the occasion left upon his mind an impression of awful solemnity. In writing concerning his prospects, immediately after his ordination, he says, — " I shall commence my labours by taking the charge of the servants of one or two neighbouring plantations in this State, and by endeavouring, in singleness of heart, to break the bread of everlasting life to them, and by the Divine aid to enlighten their benighted minds with the light of the Gospel." While Mr. Chisholm was engaged in teaching at Washington, he had. under his care a son of the Hon. William Rives, then Senator from Virgi- nia; and through the influence of Mr. R., was now introduced as a teacher- in his sister's family in Albermarle, which brought him into intimate rela- tions with some of the most respectable families in Virginia. Here too he had the opportunity of commencing his labours as a minister among the coloured people. He continued preaching to them about ten months ; but,, though his fine amiable qualities could not but attach them strongly tO' him, every thing that proceeded from him savoured so much of cultivationi and refinement that his discourses, to a great extent, fell powerless upon, their uncultivated minds. Vol. V. 97 770 EPISCOPALIAN. The first parish to which Mr. Chisholm was introduced, was that of Norbonne, comprising the two congregations of Trinity (Martinsburg) and Mount Zion (Hedgesville) Berkeley County, Va. Of this parish he became Rector in 1842. It was in some respects rather an unpromising field, particularly as the support furnished him was by no means ample, and as one of the congregations had become not only reduced but distracted by a variety of adverse circumstances. He addressed himself to his duties, however, with the utmost self-denial and perseverance ; and, while he suc- ceeded admirably in reconciling diflferenees, and removing obstacles to the success of the Gospel, he secured the respectful and grateful confidence of his flock by his amiable and gentlemanly deportment, as well as by his earnest and edifying public ministrations. On the 10th of August, 1847, he was married to Jane Byrd, daughter of John White Page, Esq., of Clarke County, Va. She was a young lady, not only most respectably connected, but possessed of all those qualities which eminently fitted her to be the wife of -a clergyman ; and the union, though alas ! of brief continuance, fulfilled, while it lasted, the highest hopes of happiness and usefulness which had been formed concerning it. Their first- born child, who was named William Byrd, was the subject of a fearful, and as it had well-nigh proved fatal, experiment, by a faithless, wretched creature, — a free girl of colour,- — who had undertaken to be his nurse. Not long a,fter she took charge of him, it was noticed that he grew feeble and puny, and at length he was seized with violent spasms which threat- ened his life. It turned out, as the result of diligent inquiry on the sub- ject, that he had been drugged with opiates'; and not only so, but that he had been forced to swallow quantities of broken pins and needles ; and these horrible acts were traced to the person who had been professedly acting towards him the part of a nurse. Her guilt was ascertained beyond all reasonable doubt ; and the unanimous verdict of the outraged commu- nity was that the law of Virginia in such cases should be suffered to have its course. But the worthy Rector, though still doubtful whether his child had not been sacrificed, inclined to the lenient course ; and though he did not actually forbid a prosecution, he so far discouraged it that the idea was finally abandoned, and the wretch was suffered to make her escape. The child gradually recovered, and was the only child of Mr. Chisholm who sur- vived him. Mr. Chisholm's ministry in Berkeley County continued during a period of eight years, and was attended with many visible tokens of succes.'!. lu July, 1845, eighteen were confirmed at one time, and considerable addi- tions were made to the churches at various other periods. His successor in the parish, in his Report to the Convention of 1851, in speaking of the state of the churches, renders a highly honourable testimony to his fidelity and usefulness. In June, 1850, Mr. Chisholm resigned his charge of Norbonne Parish, and about the same time accepted a call from a new congregation in Ports- mouth, Va., among whom he spent the rest of his life. He realized a great change in passing from the country to the town, but found much in his new position that was congenial with his tastes, and was soon endeared to his new charge, as he had been to the one from which he had been separated. JAMES CniSIlOLM. 77] On the 27th of February, 1855, he expevienoeJ his first great affliction in the death of his wife. As she had lived an eminently Christian life, so she died an eminently Christian death. His letters to his friends, written immediately after, while they show that his heart was pierced and bleeding, show also that his mourning was qualified by submission, gratitude, and humble trust. When the Yellow Fever appeared in Portsmouth about the close of July, 1855, and a general consternation ensued, Mr. Chisholm was urged to make his escape, as thousands of others were doing, from the scene of desolation, but he resolutely and perseveringly refused. While he fully justified others in this course, he felt that the same Gracious Providence that had placed him there as a minister of consolation, forbade him to remove at a time when his services were likely to be required in a very unusual mea- sure ; and hence he resolved, trusting in the Divine protection, to remain with his people, and minister to their necessities up to the full measure of his ability. The scenes through which he passed during the remaining weeks of his life, are most graphically described in the letters which he daily wrote to his friends ; and the terror and anguish by which those scenes were marked, it may safely be said, have rarely had a parallel. What added greatly to his distress was, that his youngest child, a fine little boy, in his fifth year, was languishing from the effects of the measles, at the residence of his uncle in Cumberland County, with at best a very doubtful prospect of recovery ; and it was impossible for him, in consistency with his convictions of duty, to leave his post, even in so distressing an emer- gency. The child died on the 31st of August ; and though he had had reason to anticipate the event, he found himself quite unprepared for it, and almost sunk under the burden of his sorrow. Up to this time his health had been perfectly good, and his fortitude had never even seemed to falter ; but it was evident that the news of this bereavement produced an effect upon him that predisposed him to take the prevailing malady. On Friday the 7th of September, while he was attending the funeral of a child, he felt a sudden sensation of faintness, which was almost immedi- ately succeeded by a chill, the unmistakeable harbinger of the terrible dis- ease. He expressed the opinion that he had better go immediately to the hospital; and' he was accordingly taken thither, and every provision made for his comfort which the circumstances would admit. Here he was watched over and ministered to with the most affectionate and assiduous care, — his case becoming sometimes more hopeful and then again more dubious, until the evening of the 15th, — the ninth day from his attack, — when his disease came to a fatal termination. Though his mind occasion- ally showed some signs of wandering, he was for the most part collected and composed, and expressed the most entire resignation to the will of his Heavenly Father, and a full confidence that he was prepared for the approaching change. His funeral took place on Sunday, at 12 o'clock, the day after his death, and, as the Kev. Mr. Jackson, who was requested to officiate, was unable to do so, the Eev. Mr. Hume of the Baptist Church kindly volunteered to read the Episcopal Funeral Service over his departed brother. Some twenty persons followed him to the grave, — a large collec- tion for a time when there were usually none present at the burial but the 772 EPISCOPALIAN. hearse-driver and the grave-digger. Mr. Chisholm, at the time of his death, was v^ithin fifteen days of forty years of age. FROM DAVID HOLMES CONEAD, ESQ. Maktinsburg, Berkeley County, Va., i January 5, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir: I was not a professor of religion at any time during Mr. Chisholm's residence in this parish — it was after his removal to Portsmoutli that I was brought, by God's merciful afflictions, to bow down and confess Him before men. But from 1844 to 1850, while Mr. C. was the Pastor of the Epis- copal Churches here, and his residence was at Hedgesville, my house was gene- rally his home when he was in tovvn. My wife was, and had for many years been, a member of his church; but notwithstanding this had not been true of myself, there was that about him which made my intercourse with him very close and familiar. Ills attainments were so varied that we could always find congenial subjects in literature to converse about. Ilis observant eye always kept him posted up upon subjects of current interest. His social, genial, hearty, healthy taste made his company acceptable — while he joined in no vituperation or party censoriousness, he had his own conservative views in politics; and so we had no reserve between us. I learned first to love him; then to admire him; then to enjoy him; and at last, to consult him and trust him in my literary and even political efforts. I well remember, when I was engaged in preparing an elaborate review of the Political History of the Mexican Campaign, he cheerfully sat for hours, that he might, by his accurate scholarship, detect and correct any little errors or awkwardness of style in the work, and thus was of eminent service to me. After he left here, our intercourse was almost as enthusiastic as it might have been, had we been young men of eighteen and twenty, instead of men of fifty and forty. T was well acquainted also, from my childhood, with many members of his wife's family; and another bond of union and communion was formed through our interest in his sister, Miss Ann Chis- holm, who was the excellent preceptress of my daughters during his residence in Berkeley; for, like a good brother, he assisted her with his advice and personal attention to her larger scholars, whenever he thought it needful. These were the relations between us. After I joined the church, these interesting ties of worldly friendship were strengthened and brightened into ihe " Golden links, the Christian ties, " Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, " In body and in soul can find." Mr. Chisholm was a man who had nothing of the heroic (as commonly under- stood) in his character; but that he was a true hero, of the Paul of Tarsus stamp, his last days of Christian devotedness put beyond a doubt. But there was too much of retiring modesty, too much genuine humility, in his life and conduct, to afford many salient points in the topography of his character. Nevertheless, to those who knew him intimately he was a rare man. Of most finished scholarship, he was studious to avoid the exhibition of it — of extensive observation of current events in social and even political life, yet be never talked politics; and he would have suffered martyrdom rather than have preached them. His simplicity and sincere abnegation of himself were so marked in his intercourse with all classes of men, that the humblest labouring man would he drawn out by his confiding but Socratic mode of conducting a conversation, and really believe that he was instructing this wise, deeply read and observant man, when, all the while, Mr. C. was, without guile, winning his confidence and watching for his soul. In point of fact, the transparent single- ness and simplicitj' of his heart, and his sincere love to every body, gave to his JAMES CHISIIOLM. 773 intercourse with others all theelfect, and to the cj'iiical observer the appearance, of the most refined tact and perfect finesse. But it was not any such thing — it was cliildliko goodness, — Christian charity, that thought no evil, — unaft'ected humility of spirit. He was the sweetest tempered, most lovable little man, — with no guile in his heart, — only " wise unto that which is good, and simple con- cerning evil;" happy, joyous, loving life, and enjoying it; healthy, active in body and mind; every body loved him and believed in him. One of Mr. Cliisholm's striking characteristics was the facility with which he could turn conversation into an instructive channel, when it diverged into levity or foolish jesting: he seemed to be able to draw off from the current at the right spot; and his absolute silence soon served as a hint, and enabled him, without austerity, to restore it to a healthy tone. He had, besides, a most unusual faculty of abstracting himself from 'bald, disjointed chat,' which he was sometimes obliged to endure, by falling asleep — the act was at times involuntarj', — after fatigue or hard labour, but sometimes it was a resource against unprofitable talk; and he would be discovered, in the midst of the clatter, taking a quiet nap. Some rare jokes were remembered among his friends, connected with this idiosyncrasy of his; and no one enjoyed them more than the subject of tliem. In affectionate and devoted attachment to the Episcopal Church, Mr. Chisholm was surpassed by none; and yet never was there a more catholic spirit. He could worship, when necessity called for it, and actually did worship, with the Metho- dists. He defended the memory of one of their ministers almost with his last breath, and all his Protestant brethren whom Romanists have so often calum- niated undersuchcircumstances, nor did he withhold his hearty commendation of the faithful Catholic priest. With respect to his capacity as a preacher, his finished and almost elaborate style of rhetoric his brethren uniformly spoke of in high terms. In regard to manner, there was an expression of deep reverence in his face, a distinctness and earnestness in his tones of voice, never at any time absent from his public minis- trations, which arrested and fixed the attention of liis audience. And he carried the same manner into those services which he performed in the houses of the poorest of the people ; and impressions were made by those services thus per- formed, never to be forgotten. A recollection of one of them was expressed by the wife of a hard-working man, (a former parishioner,) who had moved to the Lake country of Ohio, in a letter written upon reading a notice of his death in tiie public prints. " The news of his death opened the fountains of my tears. I wept and wept; old associations came to my mind. When mother was ill, and we all thought she was breathing her last, Mr. Chisholm came in. He kneeled by the bed, and in a strain of elevation repeated,—' Though I walk through the dark valley and shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou, God, art with me.' Probably there was no one to do the same kind office for him, when dying; but I believe the Angel of the Covenant was with him." In his ministerial services in the desk, his effort was to exhibit the full beauty and power of the Common Prayer. There was an accuracy in his conduct of the Service, (always so dear to Episcopalians,) which made it still more acceptable. His reading was characterized by a very subdued and solemn manner and tone, and a precision of pronunciation and emphasis, which might serve as a model. Mr. Chisholm's manners, especially in the pastoral relation, were the reverse of the Jesuit model,— a. stately severity, relaxed by an occasional studied amenity of deportment; in fact, his manner was so unaffectedly humble that it would have lessened his influence by encouraging undue familiarity, if the transparent sincerity of his character had not prevented. Still, when stern duty required him to exercise discipline, it was done; and the more certainly, because it was exercised, not from impulse, but from a high sense of duty. A case of this kind occurred not long after he took up his residence in this parish. The combina- 774 EPISCOPALIAN. tion of firmness with meekness, in his character, was, by this example, first made known to many of his friends. In visiting the sick and the afflicted he was never delinquent. He was sitting one night during a violent snow-storm, which was drifting the snow to the fence tops in the mountain gorge where his residence was fixed, before a comfortable fire, conversing with the lady of the mansion, his parishioner. She mentioned that a very poor and friendless woman was, as she thought, dying, — who was uot a member of his church, nor personally known to him. It was then ten o'clock at night. " I must see her to-night," said he; and before a remonstrance could be made, he was out in the darkness and storm, threading his way to the poor woman's residence, half a mile distant. The lady was really uneasy, and could not go to bed until his return, which was late in the night. In direct- ing the servant to dry his boots, she incidentally discovered that ha had no boots, but shoes only — and these were of the cheapest sort — with soles made up in part of thicknesses of paper, pasted together. She showed them to her hus- band, who quickly substituted good boots for the paper-sohd shoes. It would be both easy and grateful to enlarge on the character of my much loved and honoured friend, but what I have written, I suppose, is all that your request contemplated. I am. Rev. and dear Sir, Yours truly, D. H. CONEAD. FROM THE REV. RICHARD H. WILMER, RECTOK OP 9T. STEPHEN'S, HAHMAB PARISH, VA. FoKEST Depot, June 8, 1858. Dear Sir: You ask me to give you some of my recollections of the late Rev. James Chisholm of Portsmouth. I am glad to learn that you have selected his as one of the names to be enrolled among the worthies of the American Church. You are doing honour to one whom God delighted to honour, and exalting one who ever humbled himself. You ask me to give you some of his characteristics, and I will endeavour briefly to comply with your request. You are doubtless aware that a Memoir of Mr. Chisholm has already been written by Mr. D. H. Conrad, of Martins- burg, Va., and has been published, if I recollect right, under the auspices of the Evangelical Knowledge Society of the Protestant Episcopal Church. Few modern biographies have been read with so much interest as this Memoir of Mr. Chisholm, by one of his warmest admirers and friends. I made Mr. Chisholm's acquaintance before his entrance into the ministry of the Protestant Episcopal Church, — indeed, before his connection with her com- munion. He had then recently graduated at Harvard University with high dis- tinction, and was engaged in the instruction of a class of young men in the city of Washington. His manners, at that period of his life, would have struck any one as singularly unobtrusive and almost timid. Throughout his life he retained this characteristic difiidence of manner, but in his earlier years it was almost excessive. A very short acquaintance only was necessary to unfold the charms of his character and the riches of his intellect. Without eflbrt, or apparent consciousness, he poured forth the treasures of his acquirements, while his man- ner was ever that of one seeking, instead of imparting, information. As a scholar, he was profound and thorough. His mind was originally quick, com- prehensive and retentive — his habits of stud}'- thoroughly formed, and he had improved to the utmost his opportunities, which were unusually great. His bodily health was such as to boar up under the most unremitting application. He had the " sana mens in sano corpore " — a union ever necessary to the hi^h- JAMES CIIISHOLM. 775 est achievements of scliolarsbip. I may be thought, by some who knew him casually, to overrate the order of his mind and the extent of his acquirements; but I can appeal, without fear of contradiction, to his most intimate friends, if they can point to any one of his years who knew so many things, and knew them so thoroughly, as he did. He was to them who were much with him a living encyclopedia, to which they rarely referred in vain. Perhaps if we had known more ourselves, we should have found out how much more he knew than ive even suspected. His mental excellence was particularly exhibited in his compositions. There was no glare about them, but a sweet sunshine in the clear and genial flow of his thoughts and expressions. His taste was formed by habitual intercourse with the purest models of style among the ancient classics. The order of his mind more nearly resembled that of the old English Divines than tliat of any modern date. There was (as in Hooker, and Herbert, and Donne) a majestic simplicity and a simple majesty of expression, which I do not remember to have met with in an}' writer of the present day. I doubt not that there are many sermons of his which would justify this high commendation. His prayers in the household and social circles reminded one often of the simplicity, reverence, and devotion which characterize the old liturgies, and if he had essayed his powers in this department of devotional composition, he would, I verily believe, have approaciied nearer to those as yet unapproached standards than any one whom I have been privileged to know. As a preacher, he was not formed to sway large popular assemblies. He did not possess those qualities which constitute the bold and impassioned orator. At our Conventions and other large religious gatherings, he would be compara- tively unnoticed, save by a few who relished, even amid seasons of excitement, the green pastures and still waters by which lie ever led his hearers. Yet, how charming was the modest, almost timid, manner with which he rose in the sacred desk; how immediately did his timidity vanish into rapt devotion; how delight- fully fell the pure English of the Liturgy from his lips; how entirely satisfied was the ear with the unerring emphasis by which each word gave out its intended meaning. I said that he was not an orator, according to the prevailing taste — he was certainly no Anniversary or Exeter Hall speaker. He lacked the presence, the voice, and the style, necessary for such places and occasions; but who that had ever learned to appreciate his peculiar gifts, ever suspected that he was not eloquent indeed.'' You will naturally suppose that Mr. Chisholm excelled as a Pastor. How admirably he performed this work and labour of love; how instant in season and out of season; liow earnest, how humble, how gentle, how firm he was, all who knew him in this sacred relation will tearfully testify. Let me take you up to his little church on the summit of one of the spurs of the Virginia mountains. His flock here was a very rustic one. They were neither rich, nor learned, nor noble, but a plain, unlettered people. All unable, as they were, to appreciate the classical cast of his intellect, they comprehended with unerring instinct the loving friend and the faithful pastor, whom God had placed over their souls. Let me give you a night scene in his church,— such as I have often witnessed there. If mod- ern ecclesiologists fancy that a " dim religious " light is favourable to devotion, they might have been gratified here to the full. It was dim enough, and I trust religious after a sort. There was no gas, and no chandelier, not even a lamp. A candle here and there, held in the hands of some weather-beaten farmer, served to light the church. By this primitive light the congregation had threaded the dark° paths of the wood, and by the same light they were now striving to follow their pastor through the pages of the much loved Prayer Book. There was an ancient organ too in the gallery. By some means it had found its way into these wilds and having some breath left, was doing its best to help to praise the Lord. 776 EPISCOPALIAN. The shoemaker of the village, his daughter and children, constituted the choris- ter, the organist, and the choir. In the midst of this rustic scene, where there •was as much of devotion as there was little of its pomp, how interesting it was to see our good brother, habited in the decent robes of his office, and with the solemnity which was habitual to him in the discharge of his official duties, enter upon the sacred services, his face lighted up with affectionate interest in his peo- ple, each one of whom was dear unto him, uniting with his skilled voice (for in music, as in his other acquirements, his knowledge was exact and thorough) in their hymns of praise, in his artless way telling them of the love of Jesus, and believing it as he told of it. And when the services were over, you might see him at the door of the church, (we never could find out how he managed to get there so soon,) with a hand for every person and a heart in it, with a word of good cheer to some afflicted soul, a kind enquiry after this absent one, and a kind message to that sick one, and then, in returning from the church, as if loath to give them up, how he would follow them with his unwearied assidui- fies, — helping some old mother of the flock over the rough places of the road, and at the same time staying her heart with some sweet promise from the Book of Life. Those of us who saw him thus moving among his people, begailing them of their sorrows and sympathizing with their little household cares, could not but love and reverence so much goodness and self-forgetfulness. 1 find myself constantly recurring to the recollections connected with his parish life. Some of tliem can scarcely be recalled without a smile at the extent of his occa- sional self-forgetfulness; but the smile is soon chased away by the saddening recollection that so much goodness is gone from the midst of us. Let me say a word of Mr. Chisholm as a vian. I have alluded to his difiSdence and gentleness, and may, unwittingly, liave conveyed the impression that he lacked some element of manliness. This would be far from the truth. There was in him no lack of any quality which is essential to the highest style of man- liness. He feared God too much to have any fear of man. Where duty and principle were involved he was firm and uncompromising. His was a stufl" out of which martyrs are made. He lived a life of lieroism, and in the discliarge of his duty fearlessly encountered death in one of his most appalling forms. But his was an unobtrusive — it was a gentle, manliness. He had no manliness "to speak of," as good old Bishop Qriswold said of his religion, when asked by an over- zealous person if he " Aad any." His was a right manful character, this gentle brother of ours — loving to every man, obsequious to no man, true to his word, steadfast in principle, he fell at his post, like a good soldier, with bis harness on, and his face towards his duty. He died in the prime of manhood, a victim to the epidemic Yellow Fever, which raged so fearfully in the towns of Norfolk and Portsmouth. We all greatly mourned him. How sad were our hearts when the tidings came throuo-h the public press that he was attacked by the fatal pestilence. IIow we hoped that a constitution, hitherto unshaken, would be able to withstand the virulence of the disease, and that a life so full of promise would he prolonged to its full term of days. It seemed such a pity that u tale so beautiful in the telling should be cut short ere it was all told. We could not bear to think that we should never see liis face again in the flesh. But all was without avail. If prayer and solicitude could have averted the stroke, it would not have fallen. But he died, and our hearts were very sad for him. Where could we look to find such another, — one with so much knowledge and so much humility, with so much gentleness and so much firmness, with so much to love and so little to reprove .' The world felt .sensibly darker when his light was extinguished. 1 may be thought to have drawn the picture of a man without imperfections. The truth is that I do not remember ever to have seen any fault in him. Imper- fections he doubtless had in common with all the race of man; but I can sav that JAMES CHISHOLM. 777 I knew liim, and intimately, for nearly a score of years, and do not recollect to have seen him do, or to have heard him say, any thing unbecoming a Christian man. I never saw him out of temper. He never exhibited envy or ambition, and from all uncharitableness he seemed to be delivered. " Vaunting not him- self, thinking no evil, not behaving himself unseemly, not easily provoked, rejoicing not in iniquit}' but in the truth," — he appeared to be the impersonation of charity. Of himself he thought differently, for his humility was as profound as his character was lovely; but such as he appeared to me I have described him. I think of him again. I let my memory run back through all the scenes of my acquaintance with him. I can recall nothing which should qualify the above declaration that I do not remember ever to have heard him say or to have seen him do any thing unbecoming a Christian man. He was an Israelite indeed in whom was no guile. His memory is still fresh in the Virginia Church — long may it be so. I have given you the above sketch, my dear Sir, in compliance with your request. T have made it brief, as I did not propose to write the life of my friend. You are at liberty to use it, if you do not meet with any other sketch that will better serve your purpose. Yours very truly, RICHARD H. WILMER. FROM THE REV. ISAAC W. K. HANDY, PASTOR OF A PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH IN PORTSMOUTH, VA. Portsmouth, November 18, 1857. My dear Brother: I may not be the most suitable person to give you an esti- mate of the character of the Rev. James Chisholm, as I had no acquaintance with him whatever before my settlement in Portsmouth, in February, 1855. What T do know, however, concerning him, and all that I feel in relation to one so worthy, I am ready to communicate. My introduction to Mr. Chishoira took place on the 6th of August, just one month after the fatal epidemic had commenced its ravages in Portsmouth; and on the very day appointed by the authorities as a day of humiliation and prayer. He visited me, in company with the Rev. Mr. 'Wheelwright, a minister of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and at the close of the services in which he had been assisting. I was then lying ill of the fever; but well do I recollect his modest. Christian manner, and the holy fervour of the extempore prayer, which he offered by my bedside. From that moment, my heart was drawn strongly towards him, as an earnest, faithful labourer, and as a true brother in Christ. Frequently, before this time, I had noticed his naturally quick movements, as he passed, in the discharge of his duties, about the town — his amiable and devout expression of countenance made a deep impression upon me; and when I would sometimes hear his Christian character spoken of by others, I felt that I wished to know him intimately; but as I had so recently settled in Portsmouth, and as he had not yet called upon me, the desired acquaintance was not formed, until, in the providence of God, I was prostrated by the dreadful scourge. Soon after I became sufficiently convalescent to leave the house, I availed myself of an opportunity to hear Mr. Chisholm preach. St. John's was the only house of worship open on that dreary Sabbath; and still the number of worship- pers did not exceed a dozen. There were so few in attendance that the pulpit was not occupied, — the good Rector preferring to assume a more familiar position in the chancel below. The discourse was a most admirable and appropriate one, on the parable of the good Samaritan. T felt that the speaker himself was a living example of the holy principles which he so feelingly taught; and I doubt ■whether there was a single individual there that day, who did not feel as I did. Vol. V. 98 778 EPISCOPALIAN. Not long after this, — perhaps it was the very next Sabbath, — I had an arrangement in my own church for an afternoon seryice, in which I expected to be assisted by Mr. Cbisholm and the Eev. Mr. Eskridge, who, with myself, were now the only ministers remaining in the city. Mr. Eskridge's daughter, having been suddenly seized with the fever, he could not attend; and Mr. Cliisholni, having several funerals on hand, failed to get in until the services were about closing. lie had hastened, hovrever, to be with me; and as he approached the pulpit, affectionately extending his hand, we all felt that he was a man of truly catholic spirit, and an unshrinking workman amid scenes of desolation and death. My own health continuing very feeble, it was with great diflScuIty that I could make even an occasional visit. This was noticed by many friends, and amongst others by Messrs. Chisholm and Eskridge. They knew the disposition which had been manifested, in some quarters, to bring reproach upon the ministry by a charge of timidity and unfaithfulness; and they prepared a certificate of their opinion as to my duty under the circumstances, which was put into my hands, accompanied with their urgent suggestion that I ought to leave the place. I have retained that certificate with others; and the autographs of those martyrs in the cause of humanity I shall transmit to my children after me, as mementos of two worthies whose names should be held in lasting remembrance. It is my candid opinion that Mr. Chisholm — and I might say as much of Mr. Eskridge — was one of the most self-sacrificing men I ever knew. Earnestlj' desiring to be useful, he shrank from no labour however arduous, from no peril however great. "When many in Portsmouth were suffering with the fever, and when apprehension and fright were wholly unfitting others for active service, he gave notice from his pulpit that he was ready to go any where, or to do any thing in his power for those who would accept his visits and services. And he did indeed go about from house to house, — not among his own people only, — for there were very few of them remaining in Portsmouth, — but extending his walks into every part of the city, comforting the distressed, waiting upon the sick, and smoothing the dying pillow of many a poor victim of the plague. Mr. Chisholm was pre-eminently a man of faith. Of this we have a remark- able illustration in the fact that, with the best possible apology for leaving the fearful scenes of the Yellow Fever, he preferred to labour on amongst the desti- tute and the dying. He had received intelligence of the extreme illness of a dear child, and might have been present to see him die, but the impression was bearing upon hira that his work was now in Portsmouth; and, remembering that the little fellow was cared for and kindly nursed by affectionate relatives, he cast his burden upon the Lord, and visiting day and night in the city of the dead, he forgot his own sorrows, whilst endeavouring to alleviate the woes of others. Well do I remember my last sad interview with those holy men, Chisholm and Eskridge. It was a moment of deep emotion, for we all felt, with the keenest sensibility, the great uncertainty of present things — one of us had just been car- ried through the fever, and had escaped death almost by a miracle — the other two were yet in health, but, mingling as they constantly had done, and expected still more to do, with the infected and the dead, they had no other prospect but to be smitten even as others. The farewell was solemnly uttered, and we parted to meet no more on earth. This scene occurred on the 7th of September, near the oiBce of the Relief Association, at a time when hundreds were lying extremely ill, and large numbers were dying daily. But those good brethren manifested no trepidation. Their language and manner indicated the most calm, firm reli- ance upon a sovereign and infinitely wise and gracious God. As I gazed upon them for the last time, I felt that they were noble examples of faith and true Christian fortitude. JAMES CHISHOLM, 779 In a few days, both of those excellent men — their last histories are insepara- bly linked, and in speaking of the one, we must necessarily speak of the other — both of those good men were in their graves. They will never bfe forgotten in Portsmouth, nor in Virginia. Like good soldiers, they stood firm at their posts until, with their armour on, they were cut down in the unequal war. Having fought the good fight, they now enjoy the victor's crown. Your friend and brother, ISAAC W. K. HANDY. ANDREW WYLIE, D. D * 1841—1851. Andrew Wtlie was a son of Adam Wylie, who was born in the North of Ireland, whither his ancestors, of a few generations preceding, had removed from Scotland. He (the father) came to the United States, soon after the close of the War that gave us our Independence, and settled in ,the County of Washington, Pa., where he purchased a farm and married, and where he resided till his children had all reached maturity. The lady whom he married was Elizabeth Vanaman, — a native of the same county, — of a highly respectable Scotch family, and distinguished for intellectual force, for great moral and Christian worth, and personal beauty. Andrew, the youngest of a family of six or seven children, was born on the 12th of April, 1789. His earliest instruction he received from his mother, whose wholesome lessons he held in grateful and enduring remem- brance. Whilst a boy and a young man, he possessed uncommon activity as well as strength ; and there were none of his age to equal him in either the ordinary labours on a farm, or the manly sports which were common at that day. At the age of fifteen, he began to attend the Academy at Washington, then under the care of the late Judge Mills, of Kentucky; and as this was distant but about three miles from his father's residence, he was accustomed to walk thither from home every morning, and return at evening. Here he was distinguished by his love of truth and his high sense of honour, and by his rapid proficiency in every department of study, evincing an intellect of the very highest order. He remained at this insti- tution until he was told by his teachers that he had reached a point beyond which their instructions would be of no use to him. He then, for a short time, received private lessons from his eldest brother, the Rev. William Wylie, who then was, and still is, (1857, )t a Presbyterian minister, in Western Pennsylvania. It was while living with him, and in about his seventeenth year, that he made a profession of religion by uniting himself with a Presbyterian Church. Soon afterwards he entered Jefferson Col- lege at Canonsburg, Pa., then under the Presidency of the Rev. Dr. Dun- lap, and especially patronized by Dr. McMillan and other leading Presby- * MS. from hia son, A. Wylie, Jr., Esq. — Journal of the Convention of the Protestant Epis- copal Church, Indiana, 1852. f Since deceased. 780 EPISCOPALIAN. terian clergymen of that region. Here he soon distinguished himself in every department, and, on graduating, in 1810, at the age of twenty-one, he received the highest honours of his class. Before entering College, though very young, he taught a school during parts of several years; and, while a member of College, he supported himself partly by teaching, and partly by manual labour. During his Senior year he acted as Tutor in the College, and held the post for some time after his graduation. He prosecuted his Theological studies, first under the direction of his brother, the Rev. Wil- liam Wylie, and afterwards under Dr. McMillan, and was licensed to preach by the Presbytery of Ohio, October 21, 1812. He was ordained to the work of the ministry, and installed Pastor of the Church of Miller's Run, on the 23d of June, 1813. On the 29th of April, 1812, when he was only twenty-three years of age, he was chosen President of Jefferson College, as successor to the Rev. Dr. Dunlap, who had resigned the office the year before. Here he con- tinued four years, and resigned in April, 1816. In April, 1817, the Trustees of Washington College passed a Resolu- tion, " separating the duties of the Principal of the College from those of Pastor of the Congregation." The effect of this was the removal of the Rev. Matthew Brown from the Presidency ; and at the same meeting of the Board of Trustees, Mr. Wylie was called to fill the vacant place, and shortly after accepted the appointment. This arrangement is understood to have been made, with the expectation, on the part of many, that Jeffer- son and Washington Colleges, which were both chartered within the space of four years, and were but seven miles apart, would soon be united in one institution. This result, however, was not realized, though the matter became the subject of a protracted and somewhat violent controversy. After his removal to Washington, Mr. Wylie preached, for a number of years, alternately at Ten Mile and West Liberty ; and subsequently, during a period of six or eight ^ears, until his removal from the State, at Pigeon Creek, — to a congregation to whom he became very strongly attached, and who, it is said, still cherish his memory with great affection and venera- tion. He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Union College in 1825. On the 5th of May, 1828, the first Board of Trustees of Indiana Col- lege met, and elected Dr. Wylie President of that infant institution ; where- upon a correspondence was opened between him and the Board, which resulted in his removal from Washington to Bloomington, in the autumn of 1829. He retained his connection with this institution till the close of life. Though, during the whole of his professional life, he was President of some public institution of learning, he never lost, in any degree, his love for the pulpit, and he has been heard to say that if he were compelled to decide between the two vocations of President of a College or Preacher of the Grospel, he should unhesitatingly choose the latter. Accordingly, on his removal to Bloomington, he preached a number of years gratuitously to a small Presbyterian Congregation in that place, until their numbers had so far increased that they were able to support a pastor, and indeed until about the period when he severed his connection with the Presbyterian ANDREW WYLIE. 781 Church. He was accustomed also, for some time, to lecture on Sunday to the Students, and others who were disposed to attend, in the College Hall. After Dr. Wylie had been at Bloomington a few years, his mind under- went a change on the subject of Church Government, which resulted in his joining the Episcopal Church. In December, 1841, he was ordained a Deacon at New Albany, and in May, 1842, a Priest at Vincennes, by Bishop Kemper. His son, Andrew Wylie, Jr., Esq., of "Washington City, in reply to an inquiry which I addressed to him as to the reasons of the change in his father's ecclesiastical relations, writes thus : — '■'■All his reasons for separating from the Presbyterian Church I cannot tell ; but I know that he became convinced that some of its doctrines, as set forth in the Confession of Faith, were not fully in accordance with Scripture, and he was not willing to profess before the world his assent to a Creed to which he could not heartily and fully subscribe. I think ho became an Episcopalian mainly because he conceived that the Episcopal Church granted a greater freedom of individual belief and judgment to its Clergy and members, than was permitted by the Confession of Faith. His mind was ever impatient of restraint, and loved liberty and knowledge with passionate fondness. To this was added great courage and resolute- ness, both moral and physical ; so that, whatever were his convictions, he never shrank from their avowal and defence." Dr. Wylie had a naturally robust physical constitution, and was able to endure a great amount of exercise. He generally devoted about three hours of each day to walking, or riding, or manual labour. His constitu- tion sustained a severe shook from the death of a much loved son, which occurred less than a year before his own decease. When he was beginning to recover from this, he wounded himself with an axe ; but nothing could induce him to omit 'any of his duties at the University, so long as he was able to limp there on crutches. By this exertion his wound was prevented from healing, and his constitution unfitted for resisting a severe attack. On the 7th of November, 1851, he delivered, in the open air, an extempo- raneous Address, nearly two hours in length, before the Agricultural Soci- ety of the County in which he lived. It was a noble effort, characterized by all his accustomed freedom and ability. He took a cold immediately after, which brought on an inflammation of the lungs, and this, after a few days, reached a fatal termination. He died on Tuesday, the 11th of November, in the sixty-third year of his age. Dr. Wylie had, for some months previous to his death, had a strong pre- sentiment that the time of his departure was at hand. A short time before he died, he said to his family, — '■' In imagination I visit my grave every day. I set apart a portion of the evening to think of the time when I must lie down in the dust — I pray for preparation to meet that time." A relative, on a visit to the family, remarking that she had not expected to find him so cheerful and rasigned, considering the great affliction he had experienced in the death of his son, he replied, — " I have had much more com- munion with my Saviour, since my dear son's death, during these last few months, than in many years before. His Holy Spirit has visited me and comforted me — I am resigned to the affliction — I would not, if I could, bring my son back to life — I believe he is infinitely happy, and it is good 782 EPISCOPALIAN. that I have been afflicted." His strong desire was that he might die at home, and that he might be spared a protracted illness ; and both these desires were mercifully granted. It was only the day before his decease that his family became seriously alarmed, and it was on the fourth day of his illness that the silver cord was loosed. Such was the nature of his illness that he was able to speak but little ; but that little testified abun- dantly to the Saviour's all sustaining power and grace. His soul was evi- dently full of peace as he traversed the dark valley. To a prayer offered at his bedside a little before his departure, he responded audibly and fer- vently, — " Amen ! Amen ! " — and just as his spirit was gathering itself up for its final flight, his countenance brightened into a seraphic glow, and the words " Lord Jesus Christ, my Saviour," passed from his lips, and he was gone. In May, 1813, he was married to Margaret, daughter of Craig Ritchie, of Canonsburg, who still survives. They had twelve children, — seven sons and five daughters. Four of the sons, all of whom had attained to manhood, are deceased — the rest of the children are living. Dr. Wylie published a Missionary Sermon preached before the Synod of Pittsburgh, in Washington, Pa., 1816; an English Grammar, 1822; a Sermon on the Union of Christians for the Conversion of the World, delivered in Madison, Ind., 1834; a Eulogy on Lafayette, 1834; an Address on the Fourth of July ; an Address to the Mechanics' Institute of Bloomington ; an Address delivered before the Philomathean Society of the Wabash College, 1838 ; a pamphlet, entitled, " Sectarianism is Heresy, in three parts, in which are shown its Nature, Evils, and Remedy. To which is added a Review of Article I. of the Princeton Review for October, 1840," 1840; The Individual: A Baccalaureate delivered to the class of Seniors at the Commencement of the Indiana University, 1851. He was a principal contributor to a periodical published at Bloomington, under the title of " the Equator," which, however, lived but about eighteen months. At the time of his death he had completed two works for publication, the one on Rhetoric, the other. Advice to the Young. FROM THE REV. ROBERT BAIRD, D. D. ToNKEEs, N. T., December 15, 1851. My dear Sir : The first knowledge I had of Dr. Wylie was on his coming to Washington College as President, when I was in my Junior year. After that, I was his pupil for some time, and had occasional opportunities of intercourse with him in after life. I cannot reckon myself in the number of his most intimate friends, and yet my relations were sufficiently intimate to enable me to form, I think, a tolerably correct idea of his character. Dr. Wylie had a somewhat impressive and imposing exterior. He was a strongly-built man, not much above the middle size, of rather a light complex- ion and blue eye, and a countenance indicating intelligence and thought, rather than any remarkable benignity. On the first introduction to him, he appeared somewhat distant, perliaps even stern; but these qualities gradually faded away, as you came to know him, and you found him a most agreeable companion. His conversation was generally highly instructive; and there were few subjects that could be introduced on which he was not sufficiently well informed to keep up his part in an intelligent and edifying manner. I cannot say that he was emi- nently a man of the world, in the sense of being familiar with the usages of AKDRET\'' WTLIE. 733 polished society, or that he was always specially attractive in a mixedoircle; but you felt, meet him where you would, that he had a solidity and strength of character, and an amount of intelligence, that could be regarded only with high respect. It cannot bo questioned that he was one of the best educated men in the part of the country in which he lived. He was thoroughly read in history, was an able logician and metaphysician, and iu classical learning liis knowledge was both exact and extensive. You would naturally infer from this, what was really the ca.se, that he was an uncommonly able teacher. He always showed himself per- fectly familiar with the subject upon which he was giving instruction, and had a happy faculty of rendering his own thoughts perfectly intelligible to his pupils. He was, however, less successful as a manager and governor of an institution than as a teacher. He had strong passions, and generally exercised a good degree of self-control; but sometimes, in the discipline of the College, they would prove an overmatch for him. His prudence also sometimes failed him, and he would speak with a freedom concerning individuals, which his friends could not but regret. These, however, were the exceptions to the rule rather than the rule itself. In the pulpit, Dr. Wylie's manner was calm and dignified rather than remark- ably earnest. His sermons, when I was accustomed to hear him, were carefully written, and carefully committed to memory. You felt, on hearing him, that you were in contact with a logical and well trained mind, and you expected to hear nothing that was not worth carrying away. He had ordinarily but little gesture, and his voice was not particularly agreeable, but he spoke as having authority, — as if conscious that what he was saying was food for the intellect as well as the heart. I should think that his discourses might have been better adapted to a highly cultivated audience, than to such congregations as you commonly find in the country. Dr. W3'lie's Baccalaureate Discourses were usually a good deal elaborated, and were delivered with much more than his accustomed degree of animation. I recollect particularly that on those occasions he was much less sparing of his gestures than he ordinarily was. While I was a member of the College, — I think it was in the year 1817, — James Monroe, who was then President of the United States, came to Washington, and met the students of College and many others, in a large room, where Dr. Wylie welcomed him in a sort of congratula- tory address. It was done with uncommon felicity, and showed that he had great aptness for meeting a special occasion. I am yours most truly, R. BAIRD. FROM THE HON. HENRY. A. WISE, MKMBES OF THE CNITED STATES SENATE, GOVERNOR OF VIRGINIA, &C. Richmond, Va., January 20, 1857. Dear Sir: Your letter touches a tender chord in my heart. You needed no apology for the request you have made of me. I esteem it a compliment, and it would be a sweet pleasure for me to attempt to portray my " old Master," — ■ Master he was in the academic, and the manly, and the mental, and the moral, and in every sense — if I had time. It would be an egotistical task, — for from October, 1822, until the day of his death, I was a pupil of whom he was fond, and he lectured me to the last with partiality and loving kindness, with pride in me, and with all the power of an honest, earnest, philosophical, heart- touching and head-reacliing, brave, noble, good, gracious and grave divine. I wish I could tell you all about how he taught me, — a wild, reckless and neg- lected orphan, a self-willed boy, to love honour, and truth, and wisdom, and the 784 EPISCOPALIAN. standard of all these, and try to be virtuous for virtue's sake — never to imitatt these or any thing else, but to he really what these alone can elevate one to be. I wish I could make the world appreciate his worth and his example, his learn- ing and his originalitj', his taste, and truth, and power, and purity, as I knew him. He was no pedagogue — he was a very practical father of philosophy. I proudly boast that he was the best moral philosopher, metaphysician, and Greek linguist, whom, as far as my knowledge extends, this country has produced. His fame requires only his works to be published. I have many of his letters, — for his correspondence with me was scarcely interrupted from the time that I parted from his instructions, — but many of them have been lost, chiefly by the burning of my house in 1837. I regret exceedingly that my engagements do not allow me to give you my impressions of his cliaracter more in detail; but my veneration for him makes it a labour of love to record my testimony to his exalted worth, even in the briefest manner. I am yours very respectfully and truly, but hastily, HENRY A. WISE. FEOM THE REV. WILLIAM H. McGUFFET, D. D., LL. D., PHESIDENT OF THE UNIVERSITY OF VIKGINIA. Univeesitt op Virginia, December 29, 1857. Eev. and dear Sir: According to promise, I now sit down to give you a page of recollections of my valued, I might say revered, friend and preceptor, the late Eev. Andrew Wylie, D. D. I first saw Dr. Wylie when he was about thirty-four years of age. Personally he was a fine specimen of manly beauty. His presence was commanding and impressive. The prevailing characteristic was dignity. This word was apt to be written on his chair by waggish students, partly in jest, but from a sponta- neous conviction, which could not be evaded, that it was emphatically descrip- tive of the man. Intellectually, Dr. Wylie was a superior man, above the appreciation of most about him, whether enemies or friends. As a teacher, I have never known his superior. This, I think, would be the testimony of most, if not all, of his pupils. On every subject, languages, history, or moral philosophy, his conceptions were clear, profound and comprehen.';ive, to a degree that I have never witnessed in any other instructor. His style in the class-room was simple, direct and lumin- ous. Illustrative without ornament, the beauty of his language was derived from the thought. Like light, it at once revealed its object, and took its colour from the substance which it shewed. His influence on the minds of his auditors was always great, often impressive, and at times, even when dealing with the abstruse topics of moral philosophy, gave rise to a species of scientific emotion inexpressibly exhilarating and sugges- tive. The dullest intellect could not fail for the time of being galvanized into a kind of preternatural activity and life. All seemed to know more, and to be capable of greater efibrt, while sympathizing with his robust and onward train of thought. Dr. Wylie was a man of singularly truthful intellect. He could no more endure a fallacy in reasoning than his honest heart could tolerate a falsehood in practice. He was utterly incapable of guile. I knew him long and intimately, and believe him to have been without ground for reproach in regard to both hon- our and honesty of purpose. He was a magnanimous friend and an honourable adversary, equally candid and conscientious in both characters. Of great simplicity of life and manners, he knew not how (nor cared) to conciliate the disingenuous or narrow-minded, by what might have seemed to even honest minds, not unwarrantable conces- ANDREW WTLIE. 785 sions. Officially connected with men who often did not understand him, much of his life was appai'cntly in direct conflict with his character. To the distant and superficial observer, and to those not in circumstances to form correct opin- ions, he might have seemed ambitious or even quarrelsome, while, in fact, he was the farthest possible removed from both. Kind, courteous and confiding, he strongly and at once attracted the attention and regard of all who approached him. Not were these regards (which were apt to ripen into admiration) subse- quently withdrawn, except under circumstances sufficient to explain the fact without blame to Dr. Wylie. It is believed that in no case did he ever cea.se to be a friend, when candour and principle could have allowed that friendship to continue. Ilis character for piety was above suspicion. His prayers in the College Cha- pel, with which, from day to day, for years, I was privileged to join, were origi- nal, devout and childlike. Their fervent simplicity, their clear and evangelical thought, rose at times to the power of the best poetry in exciting emotion, and the pious worshipper felt himself carried onward by an irrepressible sympathy towards a throne of grace, and into the very presence of Ilim that sitteth thereon. As a preacher. Dr. Wylie had great power. Ilis originality was conceded. He excelled in addresses at the Communion table, which may give some definite idea of the general style of his pulpit performances. Many of his apt and origi- nal illustrations of Divine truth, often exceedingly beautiful, though never employed for ornament, so clung to the mind that now, after the lapse of more tli^n thirty years, they readily reproduce themselves in the memory. But I must desist. I feel oppressed from the inadequacy of the portrait. It seems like disturbing the ashes of the mighty dead. Quiencat in pace. 'Twill be long ere we look upon his like again. Most respectfully yours, WILLIAM H. McGUFFEY. FROM THE REV. ALFRED RTORS, D. D. Danville, ICt., January 7, 1858. Dear Sir: My acquaintance with the late Dr. Andrew Wylie began in the spring of the year 1844. He was then apparently in a vigorous old age, gray of head and slightly bald, a heavy square-built man, with a firm and determined bearino-, and evidently possessing great muscular power. Ilis countenance indi- cated strong passions, much decision of character, and great firmness of will; and all these became more and more evident upon closer observation and longer acquaintance. In social intercourse he was most genial and entertaining, abounding in humour and anecdote. But it was in the small circle of well known friends, rather than in the large assembly, that he most attracted attention. He seemed to seek enjoyment, rather than an occasion for display, in the company of others. . . As a preacher, in his later years, he was generally too calm and unimpassioned to be much sought after by the multitude. When, however, circumstances called him to put forth his strength, and he became fully aroused, he was most impressive and eloquent. At such times he would surprise and delight every auditor with his energy and power. „. . , All his habits of life were plain and simple. Rising always at an early hour, he spent most of the day, when not engaged at the University, in diligent study. Few American divines or scholars have been more extensively read in the ancient, classics and the older English authors. Aristotle was, with him, a special; favourite. Vol. V. 99 786 EPISCOPALIAN. In debate, whether he attacked or defended, he was a most vigorous and for- midable opponent, and he sometimes uttered himself in words of such scathing severity as were not likely soon to be forgotten. An example now occurs to me. Upon occasion of an investigation by the Board of Trustees of the University, (Indiana,) into some misconduct of n portion of the students, the Doctor, in a speech before the Board, the students, and a large number of others, called one of the Literary Societies of the University "a nest of Yahoos." The President of the Board, interrupting him, inquired what a Yahoo was — with the utmost promptness, j'et the most deliberate emphasis, he replied, — "A Yahoo, Sir, is a man in form, and a beast in nature." I recall another similar example, which was communicated to me by himself, though it belongs rather to the category of deeds than of words, and is not more illustrative than amusing. Returning from the village, where he had been to visit a sick lady, he perceived that he was to meet a gentleman with whom he was not at that time in friendly relations, upon a long and narrow foot-bridge. (The bridge was composed of two flattened logs, laid side by side over a small brook, containing little water and much mud. It was too narrow for persons to pass each other upon it without difficulty: if parties approached it from opposite directions at the same time, one would gen- erally wait until the other had pas.sed over.) The Doctor, being persuaded that his neighbour would not wait for him, and resolved not to defer so much to one whom he regarded with so little favour, steadily advanced along the bridge, while the other did the same, — anticipating the result, as he said, from the principle in physics, that, in tlie impact of two unequal bodies moving with equal velocities, the less must give way to the larger. The Doctor, consequentl}', as he had foreseen, passed safuly over, giving a shock, however, to the other, in their collision, which sent him into the water and mud below. But these inci- dents, though they illustrate one of Dr. Wylie's moral susceptibilities, are as far as possible from representing him in his ordinary intercourse — he was generally most kind and con.siderate both in language and manner; and you might have been in intimate relations with him for years, and have seen little or nothing of the characteristic to which I have just adverted. As I have already intimated, an iron strength of purpose was undoubtedly one of the leading features in the character of this great and good man. Any attempt at intimidation would arouse all his energies into the most vigorous resistance. No odds of physical or moral force against him, when thus aroused, could deter him from the encounter. It could not otherwise be than that this lofty and intrepid spirit, acting amidst conflicting interests, should sometimes awaken strong dislike and even violent opposition; but it is a proof of his great ability and resources, that, notwithstanding this, he maintained till his death a position in the University, and an influence in the State of Indiana, which numerous parties sought unsuccessfully to subvert. I am, dear Sir, with great respect. Very truly yours, ALFRED RTORS. FROM THE REV. R. B. CLAXTON, D. D. KEOTOR or ST. PADL's CHDRCH, CtBVELAND, O. Cleveland, May 26, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir: I sincerely rejoice to learn that your forthcoming work is to have a place wherein to embalm the memory of the late eminent President of the Indiana University, Dr. Andrew "Wylie. Although my personal acquaint- ance with him commenced but three or four years before his death, I can yet say Iknew him well. With all his intellectual greatness, there was about him ANDREW WYLIE. 787 such an unfeigned simplicity and transparent sincerity of character, that none could be witli liira even casually, without recognising in him a Nathaniel, " in whom " (so far as the phrase is applicable to man) " was no guile." £ think I may say, without the fear of contradiction, that Dr. Wylie's intel- lectual endowments were of the highest order. As a proof of this, 1 need only mention the fact that, at the early age of twenty-three, — only one year after his graduating at Jefferson College, — he was raised from a Tutorship to the Presi- dency of that institution! Tlience he was called to hold the same high office in Washington College, in his native county. In both these positions he acquired for himself a high reputation. His services were sought by many Presbyterian congregations in Eastern cities — amongst others, bj' one of the most influential, in numbers and in wealth, in the city of New York. The Theological Seminary of Pittsburgh desired the influence of his name and his abilities. The University of Pennsylvania, (in Philadelphia,) would, he had good reason to believe, have welcomed him to its Presidency. But all these proposals he refused, that he might accept the Presidency of the University of the young and rising State of Indiana. With all personal humility, he was not unconscious of his intellectual strength; and he felt a laudable desire " to plough and grub in virgin soil;" to stamp the impress of his mind and heart where he could come nearest the found- ations of a great Commonwealth. How wisely he chose, and how well he did work, hundreds of Indiana's sons can testify. They knew what was his power as a thinker, a reasoner, an orator. He was a thorough student. No superficial acquaintance with any subject would satisfy his mind. His discriminating rea- son soon selected the sound, the true, the noble, among the thoughts of other men, of his own or far distant days, and his retentive memory held at command vast stores of learning, its substance well digested and assimilated to his own mental nature. His quotations, so apt and so free from pedantry; his versatil- ity of talent, ready for every theme and every occasion; his exact adaptation of tliought and expression to his audience; as intelligible, as instructive, as per- suasive, on the boards of the Agricultural Fair, or before the pupils of a Young Ladies' Seminary, as in the Halls of Science, or of Legislation, or in the highest Councils of the Church, — all give proof of the statement which I have just made concerning him. And there was onefeature — it is hard to say whether of his intel- lectual or moral nature — that secured for them both the impress of true greatness. I refer to his humility, his modesty, if I may use the word, — the absence of all self-inflated dogmatism. Like Sir Isaac Newton, and like Bishop Butler, he ever manifested an almost childlike simplicity. He compared his attainments, not with those of other men, but with the vast treasuries of Truth yet to be explored; the finite with the Infinite; and the vain imaginings of little intellects found no place in his great soul. It was the conjoint influence of such a mind and such a heart, that fashioned his character as a Christian minister. His early piety laid the basis of his theo- logical views — they sprang from the affections of his soul, no less than from the convictions of his reason. They changed, indeed, in some respects; for every thing that has vigorous vitality must have growth; and whatever grows must change. There certainly can be but one conclusion among candid minds as to the entire ingenuousness, the intelligent conscientiousness, with which he made his changes of Church relation, and as to the consistency of his conduct and his principles, even when these changes were taking place. He was, indeed, at tlie time of their occurrence, in some quarters, severely censured; yet, after all, those changes were, in result, no other than had been made by many whose rep- utations are now so well established that the breath of calumny does not even attempt to tainish them. Like Archbishop Leighton, like Archbishop Tillotson, and like Bishop Butler; like Cutler, the eminent President of Yale College; like the Rev. Samuel Johnson, afterward the no less eminent President of Columbia 788 EPISCOPALIAN. College; like many hundred others, in this conntry alone, Dr. Wylie, having officiated in a non-epi.scopal ministry, sought and obtained ordination in the Protestant Episcopal Church. And liaving named Bishop Butler, allow me to cite from his Biography a few lines which might as aptly have been written for my departed friend : — " His character was every thing that would be expected from his writings. Of piety most fervent, and of morals most pure, he lived the life, while he professed the faith, of the Christian. No man ever more thoroughly possessed the meelv- ness of wisdom. Neither the consciousness of intellectual strength, nor the just reputation which he had thereby attained, nor the elevated station to which he had been raised, in the slightest degree injured the natural modesty of his character, or the mildness and sweetness of his temper." Two great principles Dr. Wylie cherished from the outset of his ministry; and his conviction of the truth and the importance of these principles grew and strengthened continually. One was the paramount duty of union — an outward union, if possible — at least, a union of spirit and of affection — amongst all true Christians. The other, and that in order to the former, was the unlawfulness of requiring for Church communion a profession of faith in any doctrines not clearly and expressly revealed in the Word of God. His temper and his views were, in the best sense of the term, catholic. What they w«reis clearly shown by his Sermon on "the Union of Christians for the Conversion of the World," delivered in Madison in April, 1834, and there printed and published. His text was from our Blessed Lord's Prayer for his disciples, then and in all coming ages, ." that they all may be one;" and never can I forget the deep emotion with whicli, a little more than a year before his death, he spoke to me of a prayer which he had heard in the city of Pittsburgh, in which one of the petitions was "that God's people might be reconciled to the divisions then existing and increasing amongst Christians." "My Blessed Master," was his heart's exclamation, " with his dying breath, prayed that his followers might all be One; and here is one of his ministers praying that Christians might be reconciled to disunion." His heart clung to the Apostolic principle, — "one Body, one Spirit, one Lord, one Faith, one Baptism." Amidst all the measures tending to the division of the Presbyterian Church, in whose ministry he was so prominent, Iiis voice was ever raised in behalf of peace. His plea was for toleration. His ideal of the Church was of a Body embracing all who held the essentials of Christian doctrine, and who gave rea- sonable evidence of piety in their lives. So at least it would seem from the Ser- mon just mentioned, and from a more extended and very remarkable publication of the year 1840, entitled " Sectarianism is Heresy." At this latter date, he was doubtless realizing what he had long and mournfully anticipated. He was once charged with "sitting on the fence," whilst the work of division in his Church was going on. "And what," asked one, " will he do, when the fence is burned down.'" " He will sit down," said Dr. W., "and weep in the ashes." It seemed sportive; but it came from the depth of a full heart. I must say a word of Dr. Wylie as a preacher. His rare originality of thought and of illustration, his close and lucid reasoning, his often energetic and impas- sioned appeals, made his discourses always interesting, and at times deeply affecting. He was ever anxious to convey to his. hearers the exact meaning of the Sacred Oracles. He loved to preach Christ as the sinner's only hope; and faith in Him as the appointed means of the sinner's justification before God. His last sermons, I have been told, were full of the love of God. " Oh, my dear hearers," he would say repeatedly, " how much dearer you are to God than to yourselves." Such preaching could not be without abundant fruits. Eter- nity will disclose how many and how rich they were. ANDREW WYLIE. ygg There is one incident which T feel bound to state in justice to Dr. Wylie, iind as illustrative of that remarkable guilclessness which I have already attributed to him. In the General Convention of the Episcopal Church, which sat in Phila- delphia, in 1844, there was a protracted, and at times an excited, discussion in regard to the Oxford Tracts. During ten days, Dr. W., who was a delegate from Indiana, kept silence; but, at length, to the surprise of all, he spoke out as no other speaker had done, apologizing for the Tracts, and professing his confidence that, as a whole, they did not tend to Romanism. In that Convention, Dr. Forbes, who was even then probably meditating apostacy to Rome, had dis- claimed any advocacy of the Tracts; and, with reference to sixty-two speciflca- tions of error in the Tracts, cited by the Rev. Dr. Enipie, of Virginia, had declared solemnly that " he had never met with a single individual who held any one of them." Dr. Wylie was the only apologist for tlie Tracts in the whole house. In the General Convention of 1850, in Cincinnati, the same topic was inci- dentally introduced, and there Dr. Wylie placed himself " rectus in ecclesia " on this subject. He said in substance that, not suspecting the sincerity and hon- esty of the writers of the Tracts, he had been deceived by them: and seldom have I seen such an impression produced on any deliberative body, as when he thundered out the expression, — " When I read in the Tracts ' Rome cannot be reformed — she must be destroyed,' fool that I was, I thought them honest!" But he said that Tract No. Ninety, with its disingenuousness and hypocrisy, had opened his eyes to the true character of that whole system; and in the recoil of his honourable nature, ho detested and denounced the system more earnestly than he had ever advocated what he supposed to be its merits. Most sincerely do I wish that I could enter into detail as to Dr. Wylie's every day life. The hopes I had cherished of seeing and knowing him in his own home, were cut off by what seemed to us his premature death. I had lioped too that some members of his family would, ei-e this, have given to the Church and to the nation a volume, compiled from that large and precious store of manuscripts on subjects of Education and of Theology, which he must cer- tainly have left. Such a thinker and such a scholar should have a fit biographer, and an editor of his unpublished works. Perhaps the notices which will be contained in your work may call forth the more extended memorial to which hii commanding talents, his exalted character, his eminent usefulness, fairly enti- tle him. Yours very truly, R. BETHELL CLAXTON. STEPHEN PATTERSON. 1841—1853. FROM THE REV. EVAN M. JOHNSON, D. D., RECTOR OP ST. Michael's free church, Brooklyn. Brooklyn, February 2&, 1858. Dear Sir : I am glad that you intend to include in your work some notice of the brief but brilliant career of that extraordinary young man, the Eev. Stephen Patterson ; and I cheerfully communicate to you such facts in respect to him as are within my knowledge. "What my opportunities of know- ing him, and judging of his character, were, will be apparent from the details I am about to communicate. 790 EPISCOPALIAN. Stephen Patterson, the son of Eobert and Margery Patterson, was born on the 21st of May, 1812, at Bally Holy, in the Diocese of Kaphoe, Ireland. He came to this country, with his parents, in 1821, being then about nine yeai's of age. Previous to this, he had received some of the rudiments of education in the common schools in that part of Ireland, in connection with the Presbyterian Church, and had very early discovered a remarkable love of learning, as well as much more than common powers of intellect. I knew nothing of him until the year 1826. In that year, soon after St. John's Church in this city was built, our first effort was to estab- lish a Sunday School ; and among the number of scholars first picked up was this lad, then learning a trade, and gaining a livelihood by the sweat of his brow, in a ropewalk, with his father. One of the questions in a Book, called " Bible Questions," in use in the School, was, — " In what month did the children of Israel leave Egypt?" This the teacher could not answer, neither could the Superintendent ; but there it was, and the teacher put it to the class, thinking perhaps that some one of the children might answer. Young Patterson immediately replied, — " In the month Abib." He was then asked to what part of our year that corresponded ; to which he answered he was not sure, but he thought the latter part of March and the beginning of April. The knowledge of the fact that there was such a boy in the school was quickly brought to me, and I determined to look him up. I sought him, and found him in his own humble home, and had a conversation with his parents in which I was deeply interested. His father evinced great anxiety concerning him, and said he had been ambitious to give him a good educa- tion, and had taught him his Bible lessons himself, as far as he was capable. And this reminds me of another striking anecdote concerning him — the question was asked him in the Sunday School, — " How can you prove from the Scriptures that there is a Grod V " Why," said he, " I did not know ihat there was any body but what believed in a God." Here then was probably the first infidel idea that ever passed through his mind ; and that by the teaching of a Sunday School ! I do not know that at that time he evinced any development of a religious character, though his conduct had, as I learned, been exemplary from his youth up. I kept an eye upon him, as I had determined to do, and the next thing I heard of him was that he had made a remarkable speech at a political meeting in Brooklyn. I did not know before that he had given any attention to politics ; but on this occasion there was a great question to be discussed at a meeting of the party called Whigs. Some eminent lawyers had spoken, and as late as ten o'clock at night, this youngster was called out to speak. I was not there to hear the speech ; but I will describe it in the words of the late Judge Badclifi'e, who was present, and from whom I received the account of it. Said he, " a small slender lad presented himself, and I thought he was going to recite a piece ; but he had not spoken three sentences, when I dis- covered there was something very remarkable in him. He continued speak- ing for about half an hour, and kept up the interest of the meeting all the time. It was by far the best speech made that night, and perhaps," he added, " the best speech I ever heard." " Who is he ?" asked the Judge. " Where does he come from ?" The impression made by this public effort STEPHEN PATTERSON. 791 was so favourable that it began to be said by some persons who had wit- nessed it, — "that lad must have an education;" and some distinguished individuals in the city actually subscribed for that purpose. I was myself requested to take charge of his education ; but this I positively declined, except on condition that the parties proposing it would pledge themselves to carry him through,— or at least to keep him at school for three years ; as I thought it would be an act of great injustice to him to take him from his trade, with an understanding on his part that he was to be educated, and after all disappoint his expectations. The gentlemen readily agreed to my proposal, and. subscribed the sum requisite to meet his expenses. Agreeably to this arrangement, his time was procured, (the last year that remained of his apprenticeship,) in order that he might proceed at once with the prosecution of his studies. I ought to say, however, that, during the last year he actually served, he came to me and said he wished to learn a little Latin. I offered to teach him. "I think," said he, "I could find time. Sir, to learn a Grammar, if I had one." I gave him a Latin Grammar, and in a few days he had learned about one-third of it. In a few days more, I found he was reading Virgil; and in a very short time, and with very little assistance, he had made himself quite familiar with the Latin language. In like manner he studied and mastered the Greek. There was then established at Bristol, Pa., a College, where they combined manual labour with study ; and to that institution I sent him. I do not suppose that he performed much manual labour, but he certainly applied himself diligently to study. He remained there two years, when the institution broke up on account of pecuniary embarrassment ; in consequence of which he returned to this place. I advised him to apply for admission to the New York Uni- versity ; and he did so — though, for the sake of saving time, he entered the Senior class, thereby gaining one year. He maintained a high position in his class, and at the close of the year (1838) graduated at its head. His Commencement Oration attracted much notice, and called forth high com- mendation in the newspapers. Shortly after this, he became convinced that it was his duty to devote himself to the ministry of the Gospel. But as he was without pecuniary means, it was necessary that he should do something for his maintenance; and I was fortunate enough to procure for him a situation in Virginia, as a teacher in the family of a nephew of the late General Harrison, President of the United States. Here he enjoyed great social advantages, while he was pursuing his theological studies under my general direction. After fulfilling his engagement there, he returned to Brooklyn, and in 1841 was ordained Deacon, and the next year Priest, by Bishop Onderdonk, of New York. Before offering himself for the ministry, he applied to the Bishop for Baptism, though he had been baptized before in some other communion. This he considered but a ceremony ; and when the Bishop asked him whether he had not better be baptized hypothetically, he replied — and I may mention it as an illustration of his decision of character — "Had I any doubt about it, I would not be baptized at all." Having been ordained, he became my Curate and Assistant at St. John's, and remained there for one year; and I can truly say that his sermons 792 EPISCOPALIAN. during that period were of an order of excellence that I have rarely known equalled. About this time, Bishop Otey, from Tennessee, happening to be on a visit at Brooklyn, was greatly struck with Mr. Patterson's appearance, and prevailed on hini to accompany him to the Southwest, where he might find a more extended field of labour. As if it was ordained that he should be connected with Presidents of the United States, ho was introduced to a village where four brothers of President Polk (who was himself a Presbyterian) were the principal supporters of the Episcopal Church. He was sent to visit there, and preached acceptably to those distinguished fami* lies ; but soon sought a larger sphere of action in Alabama ; and finally, in October, 1845, he accepted the Rectorship of Christ Church in Vicksburg, Miss.; where the inhabitants, acting as both judge and jury, had recently hanged a set of gamblers. He found but few Episcopal families there, and the church itself was in a miserable condition. Single handed and alone almost, this feeble young man raised the standard of the Cross of Christ. He soon began to be duly appreciated, and he made many valuable friends ; but he made them not by pandering to their prejudices, but by faithfully discharging his duty as a Christian minister, and thus seeking to promote their highest interests. As an instance of his fidelity and decision, I may mention the following circumstance : — One of the members of his church, to whom he was under great obligations, and who was one of the most influ- ential men in the place, had been goaded on to accept a challenge ; but the friends of the parties had interfered on the ground, and prevented the duel. Mr. Patterson sent for the man, and having administered to him a solemn rebuke, suspended him from the Communion for one year. The offender submitted with all humility to the discipline, and acknowledged the recti- tude of the act. At length, in the summer of 1853, the Yellow Fever appeared in Vicks- burg, and threatened to do a desolating work. His friends urged him to leave, and he was earnestly invited to attend the Convention here ; but he said,^" No, I can't go while the Yellow Fever is here : I must stop and do my duty." One of the early victims to the pestilence was the Roman Catholic Priest ; and while he was upon his death-bed, Mr. Patterson was at his side, ministering to his wants. Soon after, the Presbyterian minis- ter* was stricken down, and where was Mr. Patterson ? By Ms bedside * A letter addressed to me by J. Koaeh, Esq., of Vicksburg, ftt the request of the Rt. Rev. Bishop^Green, cootains the following interesting statement: — "Mr. Patterson, as you may infer from what you already know of him, was a man of warm and zealous temperament. The Rev. Mr. Painter, during the spring and sunimer of 1853, was in charge of the Presbyterian Churoh here ; and being a young man with a temperament nearly as warm as that of Mr. Patterson, there soon grew up in their respective pulpits a warm contro- versy, as to the comparative merits of their respective Church doetrines and organizations, and especially as to the question of the Apostolic Succession; and this controversy was carried on with so much heat that it was feared a total estrangement must take place between the dispu- tants. The Yellow Fever broke out here about the middle of August, 1853, and Mr. Painter wa« one of the persons first attacked. Among the earliest visiters to his bedside to pray with and comfort him, was our deceased friend; and he continued to visit him daily till he was pro- nounced convalescent. From over zeal to get out and visit his people, then dwily dying around him, Mr. Painter brought on a relapse of the disease more dangerous than the first attack ; and from this his recovery was slow and tedious. At length, the tidings wei-e brought to him that his friend Patterson was no more. His heart was deeply affected by the intelligence ; and from that time he seemed bound by a new tie to tiie people of our Church, visiting them, and doing for them duties which they had no minister of their own Church to perform. On the Sunday ?revious to that on which Bishop Greene was to preach Mr. Patterson's Funeral Sermon, Mr. 'alnter announced from his pulpit that, from respect to the memory of the deceased, he should SPEPHEN PATTERSON. 'j^^ also, offering fervent prayer in his behalf, and doing all that he could to alleviate and to comfort. Thus he laboured for a fortnight amidst the ravages of death, until one night, when he was himself attacked by the disease. He arose — his apartments were in the church in which he minis- tered, — dressed himself, and went down to the physician. But his case took on the most malignant form, and was quickly found to be verging towards a fatal termination. After six days,— on the 14th of September, — he died, in full possession of his reason, and in full reliance on his Saviour. A difficulty then arose in regard to his burial, as no clergyman could be found who was willing to expose himself so much as to perform the Burial Service, while it seemed scarcely less than an outrage on Christian decorum that his remains should be committed to the grave without the ordinary rites of sepulture. The emergency was met in a manner equally surpris- ing and affecting — the very man whom he had suspended from the Church, but who, under his faithful dealing had become a true Christian penitent, came forward and read the Service over his lifeless body, and then commit- ted it to the dust. His death was but the fulfilment of his own expecta- tion ; for he had often said to me that he expected to die t)f the Yellow Fever.* His character combined in a remarkable degree the elements of power, as his life did the elements of interest. Not only had he a mind of unusual force and brilliancy, — quick, comprehensive and energetic, but he had an indomitable strength of purpose, an heroic self-forgetfulness, and above all, a steady and all-conquering faith in the Saviour, that enabled him to face any enemy, — the last not excepted, — with dignity and fortitude. He was a sound, conscientious Churchman, and through a paper to which he contri- buted largely, he exerted an influence which is still felt benignly and power- fully throughout that Diocese. His early death was one of those events on which the finger of Providence writes, — " What I do ye know not now." I am, B,ev. Sir, yours truly. With great respect, EVAN M. JOHNSON. FROM THE REV. A CLEVELAND COXE, D. D., SECTOR OF GRACE CHURCH, BALTIMORE. Baltimore, June 18, 1858. My dear Sir: My acquaintance with Stephen Patterson began at the University of New York, where he joined our class just after the breaking up of Bristol College, in Pennsylvania, with which ho had been connected. For some time I close his church on that day, and that he should himself attend, and hoped his entire congrega- tion would attend, the Episcopal Church on the following Sunday to hear the Bishop's Sermon : which intention and redimentto the ordina- tion of Mr. Artliur Carey, who lias now been presented to you to be admitted a Deacon, founded upon his holding sentiments not conformable to the doctrines of the Protestant Episcopal Church in these United States of America, and in too close con- forrtiity with those of the Church of Rome, as more fully set forth in a protest from me, placed in your hands yesterday. Now, therefore, under a sacred sense of duty to the Church , and to its Divine Head, who purchased it with his blood, I do again , before God and this congregation, thus solemnly and publicly protest against his ordination to the Diaconate. " Hcgh Smith. " Dated this second day of July, 1843." Dr. Anthon's protest was of a similar character, declaring his " firm and full persuasion " " that Arthur Carey " " holds things contrary to the doc- trine of the Protestant Episcopal Church in these United States, and in close alliance with the errors of the Church of Rome." After the reading of these documents, the Bishop rose and expressed himself to the following eflFect, as reported by the Churchman of July 8 : — ARTUUR CAREY. 801 " The accusation now brought against one of the persons to be ordered Deacon, has recently been fully investigated by me, with the knowledge and in the presence of his accusers; and with the advantage of the valuable aid and counsel of six of the wor- thiest, wisest, and most learned of the Presbyters of this Diocese, including the three who are assisting in the present solemnities.* The result was that there was no just cause for rejecting the candidate's application for Holy Orders. There is consequently no reason for any change in the solemn service of the day ; and, therefore, all these per- sons being found meet to be ordered, are commended to the prayers of the congre- gation." The ordination then proceeded ; but it became of course a subject of severe animadversion and of vigorous and earnest defence. It gave rise at least to the following pamphlets : — The True Issue for the True Church- man : A Statement of Facts in relation to the Recent Ordination in St. Stephen's Church, New York. By Doctors Smith and Anthon. — A Full and True Statement of the Examination and Ordination of Mr. Arthur Carey, taken from "The Churchman " of July 8, 15, 22, 29, and August 5 and 12. With an Appendix. — A Letter to a Parishioner relative to the Recent Ordination of Mr. Arthur Carey. By the Rev. Benjamin J. Haight, A. M., Rector of All Saints' Church, New York. — A Letter Sustain- ing the recent Ordination of Mr. Arthur Carey. By Stephen H. Tyng, D. D., Rector of the Church of the Epiphany, and lately one of the Editors of the Episcopal Recorder, Philadelphia. — The True Issue Sustained ; or an Exhibit of the Views and Spirit of the Episcopal Press in relation to the Recent Ordination in St. Stephen's Church, New York. Compiled by a Member of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the Diocese of New York. In September following his ordination, Mr. Carey received a unanimous invitation from the Vestry of the Church of the Annunciation to become the Assistant of its Rector ; and though he at first declined it, on the ground of a preference for a more quiet and retired charge, yet, upon its being renewed the next month, he accepted it, and entered at once upon its duties. On the 29th of December following, he was attacked by a violent fever, which, however, after two or three weeks, abated, so that strong hopes were entertained of his recovery. But his system lacked the necessary recuperative power, and after a short time it was judged expe- dient by his medical advisers that he should try the effect of a voyage to Cuba. For several years he had had a strong tendency to a disease of the heart, which, however, had only discovered itself occasionally, under the influence of strong exciting causes. On Sunday the 17th of March, 1844^ he was able to ride to church, and to join his beloved people in the prayers that were offered for his safe and prosperous voyage. At the close of the service he conversed a few moments at the doors of the Church with some of the members of his congregation, and gave his blessing to some of the children of the Sabbath School, and then unconsciously took his last leave of the place where he had commenced his career as a minister, of the Gospel. On the 23d of March, he embarked with his father for Havana. The passage was a rough and disagreeable one, and to an invalid, as he was, extremely uncomfortable ; but he bore it with his accustomed patience and equanimity. On the 1st of April, he had a slight hemorrhage from the lungs, but so slight as not to occasion any serious alarm. Three days • Dr. Berrian and Messrs. Haight and Price. Vol. V. 101 302 EPISCOPALIAN. later, (on the 4th,) the same symptom returned in an aggravated form, and after he had continued to bleed slowly for about an hour, he fastened his eyes upon his father, and, without any apparent diminution of strength, or even the motion of a muscle, expired, at the age of twenty-one years and ten months. Though the most considerate kindness was manifested by both the officers and the passengers of the vessel, in requesting the bereaved father to make any disposal of the remains which his judgment and feelings might dictate, even though it should involve a protracted quar- antine at Havana, he concluded, in view of all the circumstances, that it would be better that they should be committed to the deep, and, accord- ingly, the next day after his death, (Good Friday,) this solemn ceremonial was performed, the Church Burial Service being impressively read by a Mr. Grosvenor, a gentleman connected with the Seamen's Friend Society. The burial took place about fifteen or twenty miles Northeast of Moro Castle, on the very day on which the deceased, if he had lived, would have landed at Havana. FKOM THE ET. EEV. JOHN H. HOPKINS, D. D., BISHOP OF THE DIOCESE OF VEBMONT. BuBLiNGTON, July 10, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir: I am gratified to learn that the name of the lamented Arthur Carey is to have a place in your valuable work, and I cheerfully contri- bute, at your request, the little aid which I can render to his biography, in a brief sketch of his studies, deportment, and general character; during the four years passed under my care. Soon after my settlement in Burlington, as the Bishop of the Diocese of Ver- mont, I recommenced my former labours in a select Seminary for boys, to be educated, along with my own sons, in the various branches of a thorough class- ical course, embracing the most desirable accomplishments. The school was opened in the year 1833, and Arthur, with his elder brother, John, were among the earliest pupils. To the best of my recollection, John was some thirteen years of age, and Arthur about eleven, at the time of their admission. Their father, John Carey, Esq., was then a resident of my Diocese, at the romantic village of Bellows Falls; and seldom have I seen a gentleman who inspired me with deeper interest. An Englishman of liberal education, exten- sive reading, and refined taste, — a zealous member of the Established Church, from which our own had descended, — fond of science, and remarkably skilled in Botany, — warmly attached to the government and institutions of his native land, and possessing a most sensitive heart and generous sympathies, — the sons of such a father could hardly fail to be regarded with more than usual consider- ation. But they had another claim of special influence on our feelings. Mr. Carey had been sorely afflicted in the death of his wife, whose memory he cher- ished for many years, with the most devoted affection. The boys were mother- less! I need hardly say that this fact added a strong attraction, in their case, to the parental duty which I had undertaken. Nor could any one of ordinary sensibility be unmoved by the manner in which their excellent father alluded to it, when he consigned them to our guardianship. The brothers were of a difierent temperament, though both gave constant proof of their admirable domestic training, in their prompt obedience, their respectful and amiable deportment, their faithful industry, their religious prin- ciples, and their gentlemanly tastes and habits. Thus far, their father had been their teacher ; and certainly, throughout the large experience which I have had ARTHUR CAREY. 803 m tho task of youthful education, T have seldom seen a more satisfactory exam- ple of home instruction. The elder of the two, however, was the general favourite. Ilis constitution, though not robust, was firmer; his spirits more buoyant, his disposition more open and social. Arthur, on the contrary, was thoughtful and reserved. His fiame was thin, and his sallow complexion indi- cated a lack of healthy vigour. lie had no special fondness for bodily exertion, thougli always ready for the labours of the mind. The improvement of his brother was fair and creditable, while his own progress was quite extraordi- nary, lie loved his studies, and pursued them with that peculiar concentration which frequently marks a precocious development, in alliance with hereditary consumption. His mother, as I was informed, had died of that fell disease, which annually sweeps away so many of the best and brightest of our race. And I remember distinctly the apprehensive feeling with which I beheld the keenness of his application, and read his remarkable compositions; for 1 knew full well how often, in the liuman species as in the vegetable kingdom, the early blossoms and the untimely fruit prove to be the warning symptoms of prema- ture decay. Still, notwithstanding several attacks of iUness, his physical strength seemed to improve; and I hoped tliat he might be spared to a ripe old age. Some four years were passed in the regular routine of study, relieved by the accoinplislmients of Music and Drawing, with few occasions for serious rebuke. The brothers were most tenderly attached to each other; and such was the cor- rectness of their course, that, although my small family school had grown by degrees into a very large one, and they were surrounded, towards the end, by more than sixty youths of various ages and tempers, 3'et I cannot call to mind an instance in which they were found engaged in any thing discreditable. In due time, along witli several of my older pupils, tliey made their Christian pro- fession in the ordinance of Confirmation, and came together to the Lord's Table. In every branch of their education, they worked side by side, with perfect har- mony. And when their father became a resident in the City of New York, and removed them in order to complete their studies at Columbia College, they were both admitted into the Sophomore Class of that eminent institution, and grad- uated, on the same day, with honoured applause. I saw them very rarely, after their removal, though I felt a deep and cordial interest in their welfare. But I heard, with grateful satisfaction, that Arthur had became a candidate for the sacred ministry. And I was well assured that through his whole course, as a member of the General Theological Seminary, he had secured the warm admiration of his associates and instructers, for his con- sistent piety and purity of life, his intense devotion to his duties, his self-deny- ing charities to the poor, and the singular power and grace of his written com- positions. These personal merits, after he was ordained, combined with other circumstances to render him an object of extraordinary popular attraction; and to mark him out as one who was formed to exerci.se a powerful influence upon the Church, at a future day. But it was not so to be! In his wise though mysterious Providence, it pleased God to remove his youthful servant from a world of sin and trial, in the morn- ing of life, and in the first bright flush of ministerial reputation. The symptoms of°consumption appeared, and made rapid progress. A voyage to a more genial climate was prescribed by the physicians. The experiment was tried, under the watchful eye of parental affection, in the midst of sympathy and prayer. And soon the sad intelligence came back to his sorrowing friends, that he had failed before he reached his place of destination, that his spirit had departed to his Redeemer, and that his wasted frame, with sad solemnity, had been committed to the deep. Alas, it was a sore bereavement! proclaiming, to the hearts of thousands the oft repeated lesson, that youth and genius, virtue and devotion, learning and. 304 EPISCOPALIAN. accomplishment, tlie love of family and the admiration of the public, the anxious desires of the Church and the hopes of the community, must all yield to the Divine decree. But the faith of Christ could rest on the assurance that God doth all things well. The faith of Christ could look beyond the darkness of the grave, and cheer the mourners by the sure promise of reunion with him who had gone before. And in the certainty of that sublime faith, their souls could feel comforted, while their lips uttered the submissive language of the patriarch, — " The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away! Blessed be the name of the Lord!" Very truly yours, JOHN H. HOPKINS. FROM THE REV. A. CLEVELAND COXE, D. D. Baltimore, June 23, 1858. My dear Sir: As Arthur Carey was in the class below me, at Chelsea, I did not become very well acquainted with him, until 1840, when, in the autumn of that year, I took a room very near to his, and for a short time boarded at the same table. In the Library, we had often met, while hunting up authorities, but more frequently as fellow-listeners to the instructive conversation of the present Bishop of Maryland. The Bishop had just been consecrated to his sacred office, and we greatly missed him, not only from the Professor's chair, where he taught with an enthusiasm that inspired, at least for the moment, the dullest intellect with zeal and activity, but also from the Library, where he had been accustomed, with the condescension of true greatness, to make the students friends, and to talk with them on terms of the most affectionate familiarity, mingled with genuine dignity. Our primary bond of friendship was the common regret we felt in the loss of such a guide, philosopher, and friend. Carey had always struck me, previously, as a gentle creature, with no great force of character, but truly pious and humble-minded. He was of a slender consumptive make, and stooped: his height was a little diminished, in appear- ance, by this defect, so that he looked boyish, though naturally tall. A light complexion, and light hair, with an unhealthy tinge of the skin which was both pale and sallow, and a marked near-sightedness which forced him always to wear glasses, and even then to look at one with a certain air of effort, mingled with bashfulne.ss, made up a student's form and figure, unmistakeably. I was fasci- nated with him, from the first time I saw him, for there was in him a certain mingling of the manly and the feminine which always defines a lovely and an elevated character. One of our first conversations, at the date I have given, greatly heightened this opinion of him. We were talking over the Phaedon of Plato, and I found him a delightful instructor in pure Platonic theories, as well as a good critic of the Greek te.\t, though in a modest way, as far as possible differing from that of the sciolist and the pedant. I was much struck with a view of Christian Platoni.sm with which he concluded a similar conversation, not long afterwards. We had been discussing Wordsworth's Ode on Immortality, and I was expressing my admiration of the poet's fine speculations with refer- ence to the pre-existence of the soul. He could not agree with me. That was going too far, for a Christian. Plato was without a revelation; but we, who have a complete one, in which no such intimations are given, have no right to indulge in such vain and curious, if not presumptuous, conceptions. He then quoted with great fervour from the Psalter, "Lord, I am not high-minded; I have no proud looks. I do not exercise myself in great matters which are too high for me; but / refrain my soul, and keep it /oio, like as a child that is weaned from his mother." ARTHUR CAREY. gQg Similar to this were all his conversations; they were always on elevated topics, and marked by a high morale. Sometimes I thought him a little mor- IJKl, and unFeal, in practical matters, but I never left his company, without a sense of having been greatly benefitted. As as illustration of Arthur's delicate and feminine traits of character, I am sure you will pardon me for mentioning the following incidents. On the morn- ing of the Sunday when our class was ordained, at the end of the Academic year, thus begun, he visited me at an early hour, and gave me a fresh rose which he had just plucked in a neighbouring garden, expressing a sympathy in the solemn event of the day, which greatly touched me. lie would not linger with me, but wished merely to assure me of his prayers, and I saw that he was indeed entering into our feelings, as if he were himself to be ordained, and I felt sure he had been engaged in solemn supplications, for all his late companions, who were to be admitted to the Diaconate. Once more, before I went to church, he called to say farewell to me, " as a fellow-student,"— adding, as his eyes beamed with real kindness,—" for when I next meet you, it will be as a Reverend superior." The warm grasp of his hand, and his solemnity as he said this, impressed me with a fresh idea of his unselfish interest in others, and his gen- uine humility. In another year, Arthur was himself a graduate of the Seminary, but not of the canonical age to be ordained. So he remained in the Seminary yet another year, pursuing a course of studies, very much under his own direction. Towards the close of that year I met him in the Library, again, quite alone, while I was visiting the scene of former studies, and then, for the first time, I perceived that his views had undergone some change. On some points we differed so widely, that I almost wept to discover our loss of the entire sympathy which had previously existed between us, and I expressed myself so warmly as, for a moment, to hurt his sensitive feelings. After an hour, or more, thus passed together, we took a walk, and I earnestly begged him to place himself under the guidance of some mature theologian, expressing my conviction that he would never have contracted such fancies, had our Professor of Ecclesiastical History (Bishop Whittingham) remained in the Seminary. I narrate this as a hint of the real origin of his difficulties. While under the control of a master-mind, his reading and thinking had been wholesome, well-digested, and well-assimilated; but left to himself, as he was for two whole years, at a time when the English and American Ecclesiastical press was teeming with discussions of novel and exciting questions, it is not to be wondered at that his close and sedentary habits bred a morbid, bookish and theoretical view of certain points which were under- going review, and in which his instinct led him to sympathize with the poetical, and semi-ascetic ideas of the ultraist Oxford writers. I felt at the time, and I still suppose, that contact with the practical world would have proved sufficient to bring him to an entirely consistent and harmonious system of opinion upon the controverted matters: for he was not a schemer naturally, and his heart seemed to be anchored where that of Andrews was, and the holy Nicholas Eer— rar, whose character he so warmly admired. He was unwilling, however, to- speak pointedly and decidedly of the corruptions of Rome, — a trait which, in* him, was no indication of a share in them, for he was so much the reverse of censorious, that he seldom spake harshly of any body, or any thing. I have- heard him apologize in a similar manner for the irregularities of John "Wesley. Wherever he discovered "fruits of faith," and the working of God's grace, he- conscientiously refrained from judging and denouncing, but his heart seemed, not the less, to cling to his Mother Church, and perhaps he over-estimated the- degree of latitude which our Reformers purposely left to the consciences of men,, when they strove alike to reconcile the Calvinist and the Erasmian to the unity of the Reformed Church of England. 806 EPISCOPALIAN. Circumstances led me to be present at St. Stephen's, on the memorable day of his ordination, July 2, 1843. I met him before he entered the church, and had an affectionate conversation with him, for a few minutes, remembering his kind- ness to me, in similar circumstances. It was understood that there liad been some difficulty at his examination, but that the examiners had been satisfied, generally, and that he was pronounced fundamentally sound. In this 1 greatly rejoiced, and so 1 oftered him my hearty congratulations, and went into the church, while he joined the other candidates in the Vestry room. Just before the service began, Doctors Anthon and Smith came into the church, in their gowns, and sat in the body of the church, among the lay worshippers. This gave me the first suspicion that something unusual was likely to occur, and led me attentively to observe all that passed. The day was intensely hot, — it seemed to me the hottest I had ever known. The surplices of the candidates, and those of the clergy, were stained with perspiration. There were two Bishops present, and Bishop Ondcrdonk preached the sermon. As I sat in a pew, within a few feet of Arthur, 1 had observed his downcast looks, and fre- quent tears, during the prayers, and while the Bishop was preaching; but as the Ordinal wag about to begin, he seemed more calm and strong. AVhether he know what was tq happen, I cannot say, but he certainly did not see the Reverend gentlemen who sat far behind him, in the middle of the church. The candi- dates were presented as usual, and the prescribed challenge given, and therl the Rev. Dr. Smith rose up, and read his protest, followed by the Rev. Dr. Anthon. Bishop Onderdonk, rising from his chair, informed the congregation that the objections had been alreadj^ heard, examined, and pronounced unfound- ed, so that "^ all the candidates having been found meet to be ordered were commended to the prayers of the congregation." The Litany was immedi- ately begun, and the services proceeded as usual, though the Reverend gentlemen who had protested, rose and left the church. During all this time, Arthur's behaviour was remarkable for composure and propriety. lie never turned nor moved, but stood looking downwards, his cheeks streaming with tears. Nothing could exceed the composure of the con- gregation, and had all that happened been the ceremonial prescribed by the rubric, it could not have proceeded more orderly. So it went on, till the Ordi- nation was complete, the Holy Communion was celebrated, and Arthur was a Deacon. After the blessing, many crowded up to shake hands with him, and wish him " God-speed," audit was evident that he was the object of general sym- pathy. I do not wish to express any opinion on the matter;, but these are the facts concerning that very important day, and concerning Arthur's conduct at the trying moment. I confess that I was among those who then clasped his hand with tender sympathy, and wished him that long life and usefulness in his ministry, which it pleased God to deny him. In a letter which I received from him not long afterwards, he .says, — " You will not judge me unkindly, though a person who acts as nature prompts him, without thinking of appearances, is likely to be misunderstood." He then, indignantly, referred to a story that had been circulated, and which he regarded as "discreditable to his honesty," that he had communicated with a Romish Prelate on certain matters of opinion; but he added, — " there has been .such dreadful misunderstanding all round that I can excuse and account for any thing." He wrote me again, at the end of August, and says, — " I am not in a parish; ■ , I presume, is afraid to call me, and the people generally think there must be something dreadful about anj' one who could make such a dis- turbance. Things are now pretty quiet, and I am at length left in peace, to write to my friends, and continue my studies Believe me, how- ever, that I should have written long before but that the anxiety and trouble of my position has unfitted me for every thing. The controversial warfare of the ARTHUR CAREY. §07 papers, on both sides, is any thing but pleasing to nie, and tlic personal remarks on both sides are, as you rightly judged, absolutely disgusting to me." It is but foir to mention that in Arthur's preaching, so far as I have learned, there was nothing but what all would pronounce evangelical and sound. On the afternoon of the day of his ordination, he preached liis maiden sermon, at St. John's Chapel; and going up the Hudson river, the next day, in the steamboat, I encountered a Presbyterian gentleman who had heard him, but who knew notliing of his name, or history. Without telling the reason of my inquiry, or in any way giving any sign of special interest, I asked my friend what he had thought of the preacher. He replied, with great warmth, that " he had never heard a better sermon from so young a man, that he was, evidently, ' of the right spirit,' and that he wished the Church were full of such preachers." Such was the impression of a pious man, of great intelligence and refinement, an ofSoe- bearer in a different communion, and one who had been well known, in New York, for many years, for his hospitality, and for his intimacy with the leading divines of the city. I never heard Arthur preach but once, and that was a week later. His text was, — "Behold I stand at the door and knock," and his remarks were full of fervent devotion, and earnest exhortation. His style was faultlessly chaste, and his manner impressive. If he was not eloquent, there was nevertheless a magnetism in his look, and apparent sincerity, which fixed the attention of all who heard him, and produced a deeper effect than mere rhetoric. Though he passed so soon away, he will long he remembered with deep affection bjf^ all who knew him; and the events with which he was so unwillingly mixed up, are so important, that it is certain the history of our Church cannot be written without mention of his name. May it never be mentioned without that forbearance and charity which he always exercised towards those with whom he differed, or of whom he had occasion to speak! It is but just to say that many who disapproved of his peculiar views, and who blamed his examiners for tole- rating them, have borne generous testimony to his piety and worth, and have affectionately lamented his premature decease, believing that he would have lived to correct his mistakes, and to become a burning and a shining light. Very truly yours, A. CLEVELAND COXE. ALBERT WILLIAM DUY. 1845—1846. FROM THE REV. SAMUEL A. CLARK, KBCTOR or ST. JOHn's CHUKOH, ELIZABETH, N. J. Elizabeth, December 18, 1857. My dear Sir : To comply with your request is only a labour of love, for the individual concerning whom you ask me to write was an intimate and beloved friend, whose memory I cherish with an affection truly fraternal. His early developments were such as to awaken in all who knew him confi- dent hopes of a splendidly useful career, but he only lived long enough to make his mark within a limited sphere, and to leave behind him a few memorials of his remarkable promise. I am glad to contribute any thing in my power to embalm the memory of one, who, if his life had been spared, 808 EPISCOPALIAX. would, I doubt not, have taken rank among the brightest lights of the American Pulpit. Albert William Duy, a son of Lambert Duy, was born in Philadel- phia, April 9, 1823. In childhood, he was remarkable for the evenness of his temper, for the facility with which he acquired knowledge, and for his keen sense of right and wrong. His whole deportment was that of one born of Grod ; and so consistent was his character that his parents say they never knew when Albert became a Christian. He himself has remarked that he believed he always loved Grod. The idea that he must become a minister of the Gospel was one of the first that impressed his mind ; and when a prattling child, he was often found alone, imitating, in his little sanctuary, the public services of God's House. At the age of six years, he commenced the daily practice of reading the Scriptures, with prayer, — a habit he maintained with conscientious fidelity to his last hours on earth. His manners and habits at school were such as to endear him to his play- mates, and he enjoyed the love and confidence of all his teachers. At the age of fifteen years, Albert became a communicant of St. Andrew's Church, Philadelphia, of which the Kev. Dr. Bedell was Eector. The lad, in a letter to his father, in reply to certain queries which had been addressed to him, gave evidence of a religious experience, and of a clear understanding of the nature and solemnity of the Christian's vow, such as we often look for in vain in those who present themselves as candidates for admission to the Communion. In 1838, young Duy entered the University of Pennsylvania, where he enjoyed the same reputation, and secured the same regard, as at school. While he thirsted for knowledge, and made marked progress in literature and science, his growth in grace does not appear to have been hindered in any degree by his college life ; and those temptations which lure many aside, only served as helps to him. In his diary, there are resolutions, which we have good reason to believe were faithfully kept, and which serve to show that this youthful disciple desired to discharge his whole duty, and well considered the preciousness of his time and the importance of improv- ing his opportunities. In his entry of April 8, 1840, — being the anniver- sary of his admission to the Communion, he writes as follows : — ; " Well may I remember it with lively emotions of joy and gratitude. ' Oh happy day, that stays my choice ' On thee, my Saviour and my God ; ' Well may this glowing heart rejoice, 'And tell thy goodness all ahroad.' " Since that happy day, two years have elapsed, and I hope I am that much nearer to Heaven, where I expect to arrive at last, through the per- fect merits of our Lord Jesus Christ. For what else could a poor sinner plead ? Often have I been ' ashamed of Jesus !' Often have I dishon- oured my profession, and by my conduct countenanced the ways of sinners. My love and gratitude have been as cold as my sins have been abundant, and my faith has been as weak as either : but ' There is a fountain filled with blood, ' Drawn from Immanuel's veins, ' And sinners plunged beneath that flood, ' Lose all their gnilty stains.' " ALBERT WILLIAM DUY. 809 While Mr. Duy possessed a mind of no common order, and a heart that had been carefully watched and restrained, he was buoyant and cheerful, and enjoyed the sports in which he engaged with his fellows ; and his mild and gentle, and yet decided and manly, character, secured for him both their respect and affection. His religion was not of the gloomy cast — he did not believe that the devil and his associates were entitled to all the inno- cent amusements of youth, and so he entered with a hearty good-will into the plans of his playmates, and in their excursions for pleasure he was always ready to join. And yet all amusements were of secondary consider- tion with him, and his true joy was found in things pertaining to the King- dom of Heaven. The College essays of Mr. Duy are free from those peculiarities which usually characterize the productions of undergraduates, and are marked not only by maturity, but often by originality, of thought. With an inves- tigating and comprehensive mind, a clear perception, and keen powers of analysis, he always wrote with both logical and rhetorical accuracy, and more than ordinary force. Nor were his talents unappreciated. The first honours of the University were conferred upon him, and when he graduated, in 1842, he delivered the Valedictory Address to his class. That beautiful production now lies before me, and I cannot resist the inclination to extract the concluding paragrapTis. After addressing the officers of the College and his fellow-students, he thus, in conclusion, gives expression to his emo- tions : — "And our thoughts will turn to the grave of the early dead. They will turn to one who is not here, one whom we all knew as a classmate and loved as a friend. We saw him full of strength, and talent, and promise. The prospect of his life was bright with honour, and virtue, and happiness. We saw him again — his eye was sunken, his cheek was pale, and his form was wasted. Death laid his icy hand upon him, and the grave was opened to receive the young, the talented, the amiable. But the sting of death was gone, and the victory of the grave was lost. Armed in Christian faith, he saw his end approaching, and, supported by Christian hope, he peacefully passed away to the world where faith is lost in sight, and hope in fruition. When they laid him in the grave, the winds of winter were lingering still, and the waves of the river rolled by in darkness and gloom ; but the sun- beams were in the air and on the water, betokening at once an immortality beyond the grave, and the life on earth which the departed still may live in a cherished and affectionate remembrance. " My classmates, the hour has come when we must part. If there has been in our intercourse that pleasure which our pursuits might well bestow,— let it not be forgotten. If there is that in its memory which may lighten a future care, or enliven a desponding hour, — let it not be for- gotten. If the time we have passed together is hallowed by aught that is good, and pure, and elevated,— let it not be forgotten. And if, with all these comes the record of some thoughtless, wounding word, a hasty glance, a wronging thought, here let it be forgotten and forever. Oh let the by- gone scene be shadowless, if thus it can be ! And let the parting word be all sincere ! Though time may work its change, and death its desolation, though hope should fail and joy depart, let faith and memory rise up with Vol. V- 102 810 EPISCOPALIAN. angel forms to cheer us still. Still let us turn to this last moment with the smile of peace ; and let us consecrate it now for coming years by that parting thought with which, in the heart's own silence, each spirit bids the rest Farewell." In September, 1842, Mr. Duy entered the Theological Seminary of Vir- ginia, and while there his intellectual powers became more and more devel- oped daily, and above all his walk and conversation showed him to be rapidly growing in grace, and making rare attainments in spirituality. In his dissertations and debates he was fearless and uncompromising in defence of what he believed to be the truth, and after having come to a deliberate conviction on any point, he was always ready at the proper time firmly to maintain his position. Mr. Duy's private journal, while it exhibits deep thought and clear rea- soning powers, while it abounds in expressions of tenderest affection for his relatives and fellow-students, and shows how earnest were his desires for their highest good, is especially valuable for its deep spiritual out- breathings. Witness the following specimen, under date of May 25, 1844 :— " Legh Richmond called his diary ' a mass of frailty.' Did I write the daily course of my life, it would be a mass of sin as well as frailty. Seven times a day do I fall — I have but one hope. If ally man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ, the Eighteous, and He is the pro- pitiation for our sins. Do we then through faith make void the law ? God forbid. By the law is the knowledge of sin — of my sin ; and in me sin abounds. But I may add, as good John Philpot wrote in the margin of his Bible, where sin abounded, there, in me, A. W. D., grace did much more abound. Shall we sin then that grace may abound ? God forbid. How shall I that am dead to sin, live any longer therein ? Oh, then, let me labour to overcome every sinful inclination, to crush every evil desire, and live wholly to God. Let me lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset me, and run with patience the race set before me, look- ing unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of my faith. He is my Strength. Lamb of God, behold me at the foot of thy Cross ! I hope to approach the holy table to-morrow. May the Holy Spirit now prepare me for its privileges, that I may at once feel that all my sins are forgiven, and have a deeper hatred of sin than ever before. So shall my service of God be perfect freedom, and I shall advance in holiness from the love of it. ' He that is born of God, cannot sin.' " Mr. Duy's mind was often agitated by the question whether it was not his duty to devote himself to the Foreign Missionary work, and it seemed to be his earnest desire to be faithful with himself, and to the interests of his Divine Master. Under date of February 2, 1845, he writes thus : — " Had a visit from after breakfast : his object was to urge me personally to go with him to China. I have been thinking and praying over it for a week past, but do not see reason to change the decision I made last summer. After 's visit, I felt more convinced than I ever have been, that I am better fitted to do good here than in China. I hope the conviction may be the work of the Lord, or that it may not continue. 1 would not err, and I do not greatly fear lest my present decision should ALBERT WILLIAM DUT. 81| ha tlic work of feeling rather than principle. It certainly accords with my feelings. The Lord help me. I am afraid to stay, and do not see my way clear to go. Oh thou Great God of Missions, thou Guardian of my life, thou Disposer of all events, direct my path aright." On the 10th of July, 1845, Mr. Day took leave of his friends in Vir- ginia, having graduated from the Seminary there with a high reputation both for scholarship and piety, accompanied with many earnest wishes and followed by fervent prayers for his success. His preparatory examinations for Orders were every way satisfactory to his examiners, and on Sunday morning, July 13, he was ordained. On the afternoon of the same day, Mr. Duy preached his first sermon in St. Andrew's Church, Philadelphia, from the words,—'- God forbid that I should glory, save in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me and I unto the world." The Sunday following he preached at Cape May, where he was spending a few days with his father's family, previous to entering on the duties of his station in Brook- lyn, N. Y., to which city he had been invited as Assistant to the Rector of St. Ann's Church. He commenced his labours here on Sunday, the 27th of July. As a correspondent, Mr. Duy excelled. In his letters are garnered up rich stores of sparkling wit, as well as much sober reflection. Of the many letters which it was my privilege to receive from him, there is not one which does not show in what his most ardent feelings were engaged. His style was easy and flowing — indeed his epistles seem to be but the tran- script of his thoughts, just as they occurred to him. On Monday the 13th of April, 1846, Mr. Duy arrived at his father's house in Philadelphia, apparently in perfect health. On Wednesday even- ing he preached in St. Andrew's Church, and, on Thursday, in writing to a friend, he says of his sermon, — " It was rather a poor performance, except that it was the Gospel. Truly may we say, ' We have this treasure in earthen vessels.' " On Thursday evening, he complained of a slight feel- ing of illness, and after some simple remdflies were administered, he appeared to be relieved of his pain, and slept a little during the night; but on Friday morning his disease assumed a more violent form, and medical advice was obtained. On Saturday, although some anxiety was felt by the family, immediate danger was not apprehended. On Sunday morning, April 19th, his attendants perceived some change in his appearance, and he himself expressed a desire to say something, or to write, but was unable to do so, and composed himself as if for sleep. The family gathered around the bed, and at half past six o'clock, without a sigh or a groan, this devoted young minister, at the age of twenty-three years, passed away to the spirit-land. His disease was of that nature that no human foresight could prevent, no human skill relieve. It was an aggravated case of mesenteric hernia, or strangulation of the intestine ; and all that can be said is, that his time had come, his bright career on earth was finished, his well spent probation closed : he had fought a good fight ; and was not, for God took him. On Tuesday P. M., April 21st, in the same church in which he had been baptized, confirmed, ordained, and had preached his first and his last 812 EPISCOPALIAN. sermons, his funeral rites were performed by the Rev. Thomas M. Clark, the Rector, the Rev. Mr. Bedell,, the Rev. Dr. Tyng, and the Rev. Dr. Cutler, with whom, as Assistant Minister of St. Ann's Church, Brooklyn, he was associated. An appropriate Address was delivered on the occasion, by the Rev. Dr. Tyng. The Rev. Mr. Clark, in the Funeral Sermon which he preached on the Sunday following Mr. Duy's death, after alluding to the fact that he grew up as a disciple of Christ, says, — "Another peculiarity in the spiritual character of our departed brother, and one intimately connected with his early devotion to Christ, was this — his religion appeared to be a settled, steady, uniform principle of life, car- ried out into all the details of duty, and affecting his whole temper and conversation. It was not a thing of impulse ; he appears to have been subjected to none of those spasmodic variations of feeling, by which one is sometimes lifted up to the clouds, and again buried in the deep ; but there was a calm, confident, cheerful reliance upon Christ, as upon one whom he had long and intimately known, and who had always led him through green pastures, and beside still waters. Religion, as he lived it, seemed attrac- tive and lovely ; repulsive only to such as hate holiness for its own sake. There was in him no moroseness, no bitterness, no littleness and bigotry, no partial and one-sided notions of duty. He brought no railing accusa- tion, not even against those most deeply set in error and unbelief. His views of doctrine were clear and decided : he received the great system of evangelical truth in its simplicity, and he defended that truth with modesty and gentleness. He thought that the surest way to check the advance of error, was by the distinct setting forth of positive truth, rather than by direct contention with falsehood. Upon being requested to preach against a certain prevalent heresy, he replied that he would do so as soon as he had time to stop preaching the Gospel. In all his preparations for the pulpit, his great and leading desire and purpose was to set forth Christ and Him crucified."' Mr. Duy's figure was tall Snd manly, his bearing dignified, and his gen- eral appearance such as to leave the impression that he was no ordinary man. In a notice of his Life and Sermons from an accomplished scholar and divine, — the Rev. Elias Nason, of the Congregational Church, it is said, — " His intellectual and moral powers were early developed, and were of the highest order ; his taste was elevated and refined ; and his piety warm, deep and consistent. His early death, at the age of twenty-three, has deprived the Church of one of her most brilliant ornaments. The golden bowl of his beautiful life was soon broken ; yet, in passing through the thorny maze of a dark and troublous world, he has left a line of light, which will guide many a traveller to a better home above. The Sermons of Mr. Duy are considered models of this kind of composition, and his let- ters and diary are written in a pure and finished style, while, at the same time, they breathe forth the most exalted sentiments of devotion." The volume of Sermons, with the Memoir of Mr. Duy's Life, above referred to, was printed in 1846. Very respectfully and truly yours, SAMUEL A. CLARK. ALBERT WILLIAM DUT. 813 FROM THE REV. GEORGE H. CLARK, KECTOK OP ST. JOHN's CHUaOH, SAVANNAH, GA. Savannah, January 9, 1858. Rev. and dear Sir : My acquaintance with Albert W. Duy, began in the autumn of 1843, when he was entering on his second year at the Theological Seminary of Virginia. We were not classmates, and my opportunities to form an opinion of his mind and character were limited to our table conversations, the Debating Society, and to such social intercourse as the leisure hours of the Institution afforded. Only a few months, however, had passed, before it was evident to me that Mr. Duy was no common man, and that he was destined, should his life be spared, to take a very high position as a scholar and a Christian. At the time referred to, he was but twenty-one years of age, and yet his mind was so stored with various learning, that he was able to strengthen, and happily to illustrate, whatever subjects came up for discussion. But his knowledge was not so remark- able as the comprehensiveness and the maturity of his intellect. His acquisi- tions were less conspicuous than the vigour and compass of his understanding. I had, at that time, been associated with hundreds of young men, pursuing clas- sical and theological study, and among them all there wefe none whom I placed on the same level, intellectually, with Mr. Duy; and out of twenty Professors and teachers, whom it had been my privilege to sit under, there was but one whose natural capacity, even making no allowance for age, seemed to me superior to that which my lamented friend possessed. If a difficult subject came up, in the course of our common every day talks, it was grasped by him at once; and a listener, not acquainted with his characteristics, would have supposed that he had just made that topic his special study, — so clear were his perceptions, and so distinct was his language. It is not always an advantage to have inherited superior intellectual faculties, for one is apt to depend too much on them; but in Albert Duy, there was a com- bination of those lower gifts, without which genius can accomplish but httle, either for one's permanent reputation, or the good of men. He was industrious. He was earnest in the pursuit of truth. He lost no opportunities to increase his knowledge. Time was a talent which he was careful not to waste; and in his quick acquisitions, and his strong memory, he found no excuse for idleness, or excessive physical enjoyment. There was in him, whose memory, for twelve years, I have affectionately cher- ished, one peculiarity which always made a very deep impression on my mind, and which certainly has contributed largely towards the high estimate which I have formed of his character — I refer to his apparent unconsciousness of mental superiority. In the most familiar intercourse, in those moments when men are sure to betray their weakness, if they have any, he was always humble. Although his opponents in debate were often far his inferiors, he met them as though they were his equals; and however abstruse might be the point at issue, he was accus- tomed to give his thoughts on it with a simplicity of manner, and a simplicity of language, which were almost as remarkable, in a very young man, as the com- prehensiveness and the ability which he evinced. In combination with these gifts he possessed a lovely spirit, which the princi- ples of Christianity had so refined that he always seemed to judge of others in charity, and to bo free from all those narrow and jealous emotions, which so often mar the character. I well remember how candid and how kind were his judgments; and if he had been far less attractive as a man of intellect, and a vigorous, suggestive talker, his rare and beautiful temper would have made his society pleasant and profitable. But it was not the mind, nor the intellectual accomplishments, nor the fine natural disposition, of Albert Duy, which make his name so dear and sacred — it 814 EPISCOPALIAN. was his love of Christian truth, and his steady adherence to the principles of the New Testament. Though he died at the age of twenty-three, his religious life could hardly be called a short one. In early boyhood, and through the period of his College life, his heart was daily consecrated to God; and his example wa.s u light to those around him. Faith with him was no cold dogma; it touched his soul, and it manifested itself in his pure and exalted life. He was a, man of much praj'er. Ills generous sympathies, his refined literary tastes, his philosophy, his ambition, he laid at the feet of Christ; and had he lived, his career, as a minis- ter, I believe, would have been as much distinguished for genuine, simple piety, as for those intellectual qualities which he had by nature, and that high cultiva- tion which study would have secured to him. It is now twelve years since the tidings of Duy's death reached me; and in that time it has never been my privilege to meet, among the young, one " so full of strength, and talent, and promise." The words, which he wrote, of a deceased classmate, are associated in my mind with his memory. " The prospect of his life was bright with honour, and virtue, and happiness," and no one, who knew him intimately, could, for a moment, doubt that, justly, on his monument might be written those glorious words of the Apostle, — " To live is Christ, and to die is gain." Very truly yours, GEQRGE H. CLAKK. FEOM THE KEV. BENJAMIN C. CUTLEK.D. D., EECTOK OF ST. ASn's CHnUCH, BROOKLYN. St. Ann's Rectokt, Brooklyn, \ April 13, 1858. Kev. and dear Sir: I cheerfully comply with your request for my general impressions of the character of the Eev. A. W. Duy, formerly my Assistant in this Parish. When Mr. Duy came to me, though it was the custom of the Assistant Minis- ter to preach in the afternoon, I chose, for certain reasons, on the first Sabbath, to give him the pulpit both in the morning and in the evening. His second ser- mon was from a part of the one hundred and thirty-ninth Psalm. When he came down from the pulpit, I asked him his age; and when he told me that he was twenty-two years old, I could not but say to him, — " Well, Sir, I began to preach before you were born; but if that is a specimen of your preaching, I would willingly sit under your ministry as long as I live." During the time that he remained with me, (and that was till the close of his life) he boarded in my family, and I had every opportunity of noting both his intellectual and moral develop- ments. His conversation was never trifling — it was generally literary or theolo- gical, but more frequently the latter; and he would often sit up until a late hour of the night conversing with a member of my family, who was familiar with theological subjects. It was, however, more the doctrinal than the experimental in Theology that he seemed inclined to dwell upon. His sermons not only greatly interested but often surprised me: there was such an easy ability about them, with so little that appeared made up for the occasion, — if I may use the expression, they seemed so much like the pure juice of the grape, that the atten- tive hearer would feel himself constrained not only to approve but to admire. His preaching, in its character and tone, was decidedly of a high order, as you would infer from the impression which he made upon me at first : there was no unworthy artifice, no pandering to the popular taste, no flying off to classical region.s, no leaning on profane history — it was the simple Gospel of Christ, brought out in its utmost simplicity and directness. It used to occur to me, when I heard him, that some men are born to be evangelical preachers — their ALBERT AVILLIAM DUY. 815 minds are moulded as if to fit exactly the truths of the Gospel; and they stand up like candelabras, with just the number of points of light which the Gospel requires. Had it not been for the extemporaneous prayers which Mr. Duy offered daily in my family, I could scarcely have believed that he had written the sermons which I heard him deliver, or that he was the subject of so mature a Christian experience as his works evidently show him to have been. It was a beautiful trait in his character that he greatly loved and admired his teachers. He was always talking of his Pastor, the Eev. Mr. Clark, (now Bi.shop Clark of Rhode Island,) and of his Professor, the Rev. Dr. Sparrow, of the Theological Seminary of Alexandria, at which he graduated. Both these men he held in most grateful and affectionate remembrance; and there is no doubt that they exerted an important influence in moulding the elements of his character. " The wise new wisdom from the wise acquire, '' And one great soul can fan another's fire.'' As Mr. Duy's life was brief, so his death was sudden. He had been suffer- ing somewhat from indisposition, and, after the season of Lent, he went to make a short visit to his friends in Philadelphia, and while there was prostrated by a disease which run its fatal course in three days. I was present at his funeral, and a more impressive scene rarely ever came under my eye. There were his father and mother, devout, active, but comparatively youthful. Christians; whc had regarded him with the most intense parental devotion; who had spared no pains or expense in his education; and, while they cherished him as a son, might almost be said to reverence him as a superior — there they stood and saw his remains lowered into their last resting place, with every thing that betokened the most unqualified, the most sublime resignation. It was indeed a dark dis- pensation by which he was thus early removed, and many a cherished hope was buried in his grave. I remain very respectfully yours, B. C. CUTLER. ALPHABETICAL INDEX OF THE NAMES OF THE SUBJECTS. PAGE. Abercrombie, James, D. D 392 Adams, Jasper, D D 640 Addison, "Walter Dulany 403 Allen, Benjamin 589 Alston, Philip William Whitmel 754 Andrews, John, D. D 246 Apthorp, East, D. D 174 Auohmuty, Samuel, D. D 127 B. Bacon, Thomas 117 Bailey, Jacob 200 Barclay, Henry, D. D 91 Barton, Thomas 168 Bass, Rt. Rev. Edward, D. D 142 Beach, Abraham, D. D, 255 Beach, John 82 Beasley , Frederick, D. D 477 Bedell, Gregory Townsend, D. D 554 Bend, Joseph Grove John, D. D 353 Berkeley, George, D. D 63 Blackstone, 'William 1 Blair, James, D.D 7 Bostwick, Gideon 274 Boucher, Jonathan 211 Bowden, John, D. D 804 Bovven, Rt. Rev. Nathaniel, D. D 471 Boyd, George, D.D 572 Bray, Thomas, D.D 17 Brogden, William 85 Bronson, Tillotson, D.D 358 Brown, John Walker 739 Browne, Arthur 76 Buchanan, John, D. D 824 Burhans, Daniel, D. D 410 Butler, David, D. D 889 Buxton, Jarvis Barry 679 c. Caner, Henry, D. D 61 Carey, Arthur 799 Carter, Abiel 584 Chandler, Thomas Bradbury, D. D... 137 Chase, Rt. Rev. Philander, D. D 453 Checkley, John 109 Chisholm, James 768 PAGE. Claggett, Rt. Rev. Thomas John, DD 251 Clark, John Alonzo, D.D 674 Clark, Grin, D, D 540 Clark, William Atwater, D. D 536 Clarke, Richard 143 Clay, Slator 355 Cleveland, Aaron 164 Cobia, Daniel 719 Collin, Nicholas, D. D 277 Contee, Benjamin, D. D 487 Cradock, Thomas m Cranston, Walter 58O Croes, Rt. Rev. John, D.D 878^ Croswell, William, D.D 697 Cutler, Timothy, D.D 50 Cutting, Leonard 223 D. Dalcho, Frederick, M. D 560 Davies, Thomas 205 Dehon, Rt. Rev. Theodore, D. D 425 Dnch^, Jacob, D. D 180 Duke, William 309 Duy, Albert William 807 E. Eastburn, James Wallis 635 Evans, Evan, D.D 22 P. Ferguson, Colin, D.D 342 Fisher, Nathaniel 828 a. Gadsden, Rt. Rev. Christopher E., D.D 510 Garden, Alexander 39 Gardiner, John Sylvester John, D. D. 363 Griffin, Edmund Dorr 669 Griffith, David, D. D 270 Griswold, Rt. Rev. Alexander Viets, DD 415 H. Harris, ATilliam, D.D 383 Hassard, Samuel 735, Vol. V. 103 818 ALPHABETICAL INDEX. PAGE. Henderson, Jacob 34 llenshaw, Kt. Kev. John P. K., D. D. 545 Hobart. Ht. Uev. John Henry, D. D. 440 Hooper, 'William 122 Hubbard, Bela, D.D 234 I. Inglis, Charles, D. D 186 J. Jackson, William 651 Jackson, William M 704 Jarratt, Devereux 214 Jarvis, Rt. Rev. Abraham, D. D 287 Jarvis, SamuelFarmar, D. D., LL. D. . 530 Johnson, Samuel, D. D 62 Jones, Hugh 9 K. Kaufman, Abraham 723 Keith, George 25 Keith, Reuel, D. D 625 Kemp, Rt. Rev. James, D. D 374 Knapp, Nathanael Phippen 742 L. Learning, Jeremiah, D. D 129 Lewis, Samuel Seymour, D.D 714 Lyell, Thohaas, D. D 495 M. Madison, Rt. Rev. James, D. D 318 Mansfield, Richard, D. D 131 McDonald, Daniel, D.D 525 McElhiney, George, D.D 646 McSparran, James, D. D 44 Milnor, James, D.D 562 Montgomery, James, D. D 596 Moore, Rt. Rev. Benjamin, D.D 299 Moore, Rt. Rev. Richard Channing, D D 367 Morss, James, D. D 492 N. Nash, Daniel 433 Neufville, Edward, D.D 661 0. Ogilby, John David, D.D 760 Ogilvie, John, D. D 134 P. Parker, Rt. Rev. Samuel, D. D 296 Patterson, Stephen 789 Percy, "William, D. D 293 PAGE Peters, Richard, D. D 88 Peters, Samuel, LL. D 191 Pettigrew, Charles 315 Pilmore, Joseph, D. D 266 Presstman, Stephen Wilson 658 Price, Roger 69 Provoost, Rt. Rev. Samuel, D. D.... 240 E. Ravenscroft, Rt. Rev. John Stark, D. D 617 Reed, John, D.D 506 Rudd, John Churchill, D.D 501 s. Seabury, Charles 400 Seabury, Rt. Rev. Samuel, D.D 149 Shelton. Philo 349 Smith, Hugh, D. D 605 Smith, Rt. Rev. Robert, D. D 170 Smith, William, D. D 158 Smith, William, D.D S45 Stephens, Abednego 746 Stephens, Daniel, D. D 519 Stone, Rt. Rev. William Murray, D. D. 484 Strong, Titus, D.D 575 T. Talbot, John 30 Thomas, Edward 664 U. Usher, John 48 V. Vesey , William 13 W. Waiuwright, Rt. Rev. Jonathan M., D. D 610 Walter, William, D. Dt. 226 Weller, George, D. D 601 West, William. D. D 208 Wharton, Charles Henry, D. D 335 White, Rt. Rev. William, D.D 280 Whitefield. George 94 Wilkins, Isaac, D.D 462 Wilkinson, William 4 Wilmer, William H., D.D 515 Winslow, Benjamin Davis 750 Wylie, Andrew, D. D 779 Y. Toung, Thomas John 687 ALPHABETICAL INDEX OF THE NAMES OF THOSE WHO HAVE TURNISHED ORIGINAL LETTERS. A. Allen, Ethan, D.D 4,9.34,85, 111 117, 208, 309, 353, 403, 517 Andrews, Rev. Edward 582 Anthon, Henry, D.D 605 Atkinson, Rt. Rev. Thomas 551 B. 782 123 340 274 740 396 508 390 Baird, Robert, D. D Bartol, 0. A., D. D Binney, Hon. Horace Boardmau, Hon. D. S.. . . Bradford, A. W.,LL. D. Brown, David Paul, Esq . Brown, John, D.D Buel, Hon. David Buel, Rev. Samuel 414 Burgess, Rt. Rev. George, D.D 460 Burhans, Daniel, D. D 154, 239 Burroughs, Charles, D.D... 76,429, 492 C. Chandler, Azariah, D.D Chapin, A. B., D. D Chew, Rev. John H Clark, Rev. George H Clark, Rev. Samuel A Clark, Rt. Rev. Thomas M., D.D.... Claxton, R. Bethell, D.D 632, Clay, Jehu C, D. D 277, 355, Cleveland, Professor Charles D Colt, T. W., D. D 616,j Coleman, John D. D Conrad, David Holmes, Esq. Coxe, Arthur Cleveland, D. D.. 71 Cressey, E. H., D. D Cutler, Benjamin C, D. D D. Dana, Rev. C. B 270 Dana, K H. jr.. Esq 700 Delancey, Rt. Rev. W. H., D. D., LL.D. 398 Doane, Rt. Rev. G. W., D. D., LL. D. 335 505, 543, 598, 702, 767 Donaldson, Samuel J., Esq 376 Dorr, Benjamin, D. D 504 578 195 251 813 807 423 786 658 164 Ducachet, H. W., D.D 686 Duffield, George, D.D 726 Dwight, Maurice W., D. D 639 E. Eastburn, Rt. Rev. Manton, D. D 567 Elliott Rt. Rev. Stephen, D. D 587 P. Felt, Rev. Joseph B 588 Fludd, Mrs. E 694 Foot, Hon. John A 360 Eraser, Charles, Esq 173 G. Gifford, Archer, Esq 382 Oilman, Samuel, D.D 475, 643 Gregory , Henry, D. D 529 H. Hall, Rev. Richard D 266 Hallam, Robert A., D. D 149 Halliburton, Hon. Brenton 190 Handy, Rev. Isaac W. K 777 Henry, C. S., D. D 579 Hillhouse, Miss Mary L 130 Holcomb, Frederick, D. D 362 Hooker, E. W.,D. D 627 Hopkins, Rt. Rev. John H., D. D 802 Hoppin, Rev. N icholas 178 How, Samuel B., D. D 249 Huger, Alfred 696 Humphrey, Edward P., D. D 657 Humphrey, Heman, D.D ^. 420 Humphreys, Hector, D.D 647 Huske, Rev. Joseph C 681 Hutton, Mancius S., D. D 672 I. IngersoU, Hon. Joseph R 288 J. Jenks. 'William, D.D 226, 295, 474 Johns, Rt. Rev. John, D. D 704 Johnson, Evan M.. D. D 789 Johnson, Joseph, M. D... . 431,513, 560 Jones, Hon. Joel. 700 820 ALPHABETICAL raOEX. K. Keith. Rev. Cleveland 634 Keith , Rev. Paul Trapier 668 King, Charles, LL. D 480 King. Hon. John A 451, 614 Kollock, S. K., D. D 583 L. Lawrence, Hon. William Beach 255 Lee, Kt. Rev. Alfred, D. D 660 Lee, Rt. Rev. Henry W., D. D 735 Lewis, William H., D. D 745 M. Mann, Rev. Charles 518 Marshall, A. W., D. D 668 Mason, Hemy M., D. D 395, 620 Massey, Rev. J. A 714 Mathews, James M., D. D 385, 450 McAllister, John , Esq 251 McGuffey,WilliamH.,D.D.,LL.D. 784 Mcllvaine, Rt. Rev. Charles P., D. D. 557 McVickar, John, D. D 386 Meade, Rt. Rev. William, D. D 372 Miles, Rev. James W 692 Miller, John, M. D 538 Moore, David, D. D 301 Moore, Nathaniel F., LL. D 301 Murray, Nicholas, D. D 481 N. Norton. Rev. John N 433 0. Ogilby, Frederick, D. D 752 Onderdonk, Rt. Rev. Benjamin T., D. D 497 Onderdonk, Rt. Rev. Henry U., D. D. 284 Otey. Rt. Rev. James H., D. D. 519, 746 756, 797 P. Park, Edwards A., D. D 644 Parker, Henry M., Esq 575 Passmore, Rev. Joseph C 601 Peahody, A. P., D. 744 Peck, Rev. Francis 676 Peters, Hon. J. S 191 Pinckney, Rev. Chas. Cotesworth, Jr. , 642 721 Pinkney, William, D. D 648 Pitkin, Thomas C, D. D 1,656 Piatt, Rev. G. L 276 Potter, Rt. Eev. Alonzo, D. D 285 Prescott, AVilliam H. Esq 365 R. Rand, Edward Sprague, Esq 145 Rapelye, George B., Esq 13, 248 Rice, Mrs. Dr. J. H 326 Komeyn, James, D. D 638 s. Scott, Rev, Joseph 132 Seabury, Samuel, D. D 400 Sewall, Rev. Jotham 107 Shelton, William, D. D 349 Smedes, Albert, D. D 495 Smith, Rt. Rev. Benjamin B., D. D.. 459 595, 655 Southgate, Rt. Rev. Horatio, D. D.. . 728 Sparrow, William, D. D 628 Spear, William W. D. D 732 Stevens, William Bacon, D D.. 662, 674 Stone, John S.. D. D 544 Stubbs, Alfred, D. D 765 T. Taylor. Thomas H, D. D 514, 727 Todd, Hon. Charles S 323 Turner, Samuel H., D. D 741 Tyler, Hon. John 321, 371 Tyng, Stephen H., D. D 421 u. Upfold, Rt. Rev. Geo., D.D.,LL. D.. 19P Upham, Hon. Charles W 328 V. Tan Kleeck, Richard B., D. D 572 Yerplanck, Hon. Gulian C. 303, 306, 345 Vinton, Francis, D. D Clb w. Walworth, Hon. Reuben H £66 Waters, Rev. Richard H 486 Webster, Horace, LL. D 52&, 542 Welch, Bartholomew T., D. D 269 A¥hiton, John M., D.D 533 Whittingham.Rt.Rev. VVm.R.,D I). 667 Wilkins. Gouverneuv Morris, Esq .. 462 Williams. Rt. Rev. John, D.D ,. 534 Wilmer. Rev. Richard H 774 Wise, Hon. Henry A 783 Withers, Rev. Edmund 221 Wood, George B., M.D 482 Woodbridge, Rev. George 370 Woodworth, Hon. John 235 Wroth, Peregrine, M. D 343 ALPHABETICAL INDEX NAMES INCIDENTALLY INTEODUCED IN THE TEXT OR THE NOTES. Adams, Alexander 35 Adams, Alexander jr 35 Albert, Pierre Antoine 636 Andrews, John -. . 146 Andrews, William 91 Andrews, William 01 Apthorp, Frederick 177 Avery, John 754 Baldwin , Ashbel 352 Barber, Daniel 196 Barber, Virgil Horace 196 Barclay, Thomas 91, 92 Barroll. William 12,13 Barry, Edmund D., D. D ,636 Bayard, Lewis P , D. D '740 Beach, Stephen 532, 533 Berkeley, George 68, 69 Bisset, George 80 Bissett, John 443 Blakeslee, Edward 413 Bloomer, Joshua 305 Boehmen, Jacob 148 Bourdillon, Benedict 112 Bowden, James J 306 Bowie, John, D. D 374, 375 Breynton , John 62 Bridge, Christopher 70, 71 Bridge, Christopher, jr 71 Brooke, John 138 Brooke, Samuel 165 Brown, Thomas 135 Browne, Daniel 54 Browne, John -j 76 Browne, Marmaduke 79, 80 Charlton, Robert 16,17 Chase, Philander 456, 457 Checkley, John 110 Church, Aaron 383 Claggett, Samuel 252 Clap, Elisha 610 Clarkson. Joseph 282 Clay, Robert 357 Clayton, Rev. Mr 22 Cleveland, Aaron 166,167 Colbatch, Joseph 86 Coleman, John 220 PAGE. Colgan, Thomas 16 Colton, Eli 192 Cooke, Samuel 224 Coombe, Thomas 280. 281 Cooper, My les, LL . D 57. 58 Cooper, Robert 171 Coudon, Joseph 312 Cradock, Arthur 116 Croes, John, jr 381, 382 Croswell, Hany, D. D 697 Cummiiigs, Archibald 88 Dashiell, George 313 Davenport. Addington 122 Davis, Thomas 406 Dean, Barzillai 192 Eaton, Asa, D. D 699 Ellison, Thomas 454 Eversfleld, John 252 Eversfleld, John, jr : 252 Farmer, Richard 171 Fayerweather, Samuel 506 Fisk, Phineas 53 Fowle, Robert 154 . Fowler, Andrew 428 Frost, Thomas 427 Frost, Thomas Downs 427 Gaunt, Edward, M. D 311 Garden, Alexander, jr 42, 43 Gibson, Richard 79 Gorton, Samuel 2 Greaton, James 52 Green, William 403 Griswold, George 420 Guy, William 44 Harris, Henry 71 Hart, Samuel 171 Hart, Seth 400 Hart, William Henry 400, 401 Hasell, Thomas 43 Honyman, James 45 Hultgren, Matthias 278 Humphreys, Hector, D. D 647 Hunt. Robert 322 Hutson, William 147 Inglis, John, D. D 189, 190 Irving, Thomas Pitt 679 822 ALPHABETICAL INDEX PAGE. Jackson , J. Edwai-d 704 Jackson, Joseph 520 James, John Waller 283 James, Richard 5 Jenkins, Edward 294 Jenny, Robert, LL. D 16 Jewett, Jedediah 200 Johnson, William 57 Johnstone, Gideon 39 Jones, Cave 264 Judd, Bethel, D. D 602 ICavanaugh, Williams 311 Kecne, Samuel, D. D . 311 Keeue, Samuel, jr 311 Kewley, John, D. D 545 Kneeland, Ebenezer 59 L'Esarbot, 1 Locke, Richard 165 Ijyford, John 1 Macgill, James 309 Magaw, Samuelj D. D 246 Maynadier, Daniel 118 Mavnadier, Samuel 118 Miller, Ebenezer, D. D 110 Miller, John 110 Miln, John 92 Montague, William 358 Moore, David, D. D 369, 370 Moore, James 311 Moore, Thoroughgood 91 Moscrop, Henry 401 Myles, Samuel 70 NeiU, Hugh 158, 159 Kicols, Henry, 521 Koble, B. G 154 ( )gilvie, George 137 Oliver, Thomas Fitch 383, 384 Orem, James 48 Orr, William 39, 40 Palmer, Solomon 274 Parker, Peter Manigault 426, 427 Perry, Philo 412 Phelps, Davenport 543 Pigot, George 50, 51 Plant, Matthias 142, 143 Pollen , Thomas 47 PAGE. Porter, Aaron 164 Price, Andrew 75 Price, William 69 Purcell, Robert 171 Rattoone, Elijah D., D. D 265 Ross, iEneas 2:') Koss, George 24, 25 Rudman, Rev. Mr 23 Sayre, James 306 Sayres, John J 407 Scovill, James 350 Seabury, Samuel 149 Seldeu, Miles 325 Serjeant, Winwood 81 Seymour, Richard 1 Simons, James Dewar 294 Standard, Thomas 57 Sturgeon, William 181 Thomas, Samuel 664 Todd, Ambrose 416 Ti-eadwell, Daniel 225 Troutbeck, John 52 Trumbull, John 358 Tyler, John 58, 59 Usher, James 192 Usher, John 48, 49, 50 Vaughan, Edward 137, 138 Viets. Roger 415, 416 Warner, Thomas T 636 Weeks, Joshua Wingate 204 Welton, Richard, D. D.. 33 T/'etmore. James 16 Wetmore, Robert Griffith 454 Wetmore, Timothy 16 Wheeler, William Willard 203 White, Jonathan 35 Whitlock, Henry 235 Wiesell, John 278 Wiley, Philip B 754 Wilkinson, Christopher 36 Williamson, Alexander 375 Wilmer, James J 516 Wilmer, Simon 516 Winslow. Edward 58 Wood, Rev. T 328 Yvonnet, J. Lawrence 667 ' VfiT' t Date Due fwrttl — ±— O iJJw MAYl i 1961 OCT 25 If 67 Demco 293-5 TwA'itliitk 1