ADDRESS
DELIVERED IN
CHRIST CHURCH, SAVANNAH, SUNDAY, JANUARY 5, 1851,
over the BODY of the
REV. EDWARD NEUFVILLE, D. D.
BY THE
RIGHT REV. STEPHEN ELLIOTT, JR., D. D.,
BISHOP OF THE DIOCESE OF GEORGIA,
TOGETHER WITH THE
RESOLUTIONS
PASSED BY
CHRIST CHURCH AND ST. JOHN'S, SAVANNAH,
AND
ST. PAUL'S, AUGUSTA,
in testimony of their appreciation of the Christian character of the deceased,
and of their sympathy with his "bereaved Church and Family.
SAVANNAH:
PRINTED BY GEORGE N. NICHOLS.
1351
EMORY UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY
GIFT OF
Richard B. Harwell
" The Wardens and Vestrymen of Christ Church deeply
feeling the just tribute paid to their lamented Rector, in the elo¬
quent and able sermon delivered by the Right Rev, Stephen
Elliott, Jr., at the funeral services, on Sunday last, in said church,
respectfully solicit of the Bishop the sermon, to be published in
pamphlet form."
Extract from the minutes, Jan. 9, 1851.
WILLIAM P. HUNTER,
Sec'ry and Treasurer Vestry of Christ Church.
FUNERAL SERVICES,
At eleven o'clock, on Sunday morning, Jan. 5th, the tolling of
the hell of Christ Church announced to the citizens of Savannah,
that the funeral procession, in honour of Dr. neufville,had com¬
menced its movement towards that scene of his long and faithful
ministerial service. It had been arranged that none hut the rela¬
tives of the deceased should follow the body to the church, accom¬
panied by the Wardens and Vestries of Christ Church and St.
John's acting as pall-bearers. In pursuance of this arrangement,
the body of Dr. Neofville was met at the porch of Christ Church
by the Bishop and the Reverend Messrs. White, Williams, and
Macauley, of the diocese of Georgia, and the Rev. Mr. Swart, of
Jacksonville, Florida, who preceded it up the centre aisle, repeat¬
ing the magnificent opening sentences of the burial service. So
soon as the Bishop and Clergy had entered the chancel, and the
immense concourse of people was hushed into silence, the Bishop
read the anthem from the 39th and 90th Psalms, which was re¬
sponded to by a congregation bathed in tears. The lesson was
read by the Rev. Rufus M. White, Rector of St. John's Church,
Savannah, after which was sung the 124th Hymn. The Bishop
then ascended the Pulpit and delivered the following address :
ADDRE SS.
Few individuals, my beloved people, could have been taken out
of this community, over whose grave more tears of genuine affec¬
tion would have been shed, than over that of our beloved brother
Whose body now lies before us. Death might have singled out a
more illustrious mark—might have directed his cruel dart against
men of high political connexion, of large commercial influence,
of wider family relationship—but nowher,e could he have struck
a blow, whose vibration would have passed from heart to heart,
through all classes of society, more effectively, than in directing
it against the bosom of your beloved Pastor. Almost every
family, of whatever condition in life, of whatever shade of re-
<s
ligious belief, feels that it has lost a friend, grieves that it has
heai'd, for the last time, the cheerful tones of that sweet voice, which
was ever ready to speak a word of comfort and of sympathy to every
human creature, that it will never see again, flitting upon its errands
of mercy, that slight form and happy face, which carried kindness
and good-will as its ever attendant companions. Nor will this
feeling be confined to this community. Many a tear will be shed
for him in every church in this Diocese, many a heart will be wrung
at the sad news of his death, as it passes from Diocese to Diocese,
even to the most distant field of our missionary enterprise. Placed
as he has been over this mother church of the Diocese for three and
twenty years, his influence has been felt on every hand, and many
a thriving congregation nourished into life by his care, and many a
distant stranger soothed in affliction by his tenderness, and many a
solitary missionary cheered in his toil by his libei-al charity, will
join with you in weeping over his early grave, and in offering the
tribute of unfeigned affection to his virtues and his character. If
sympathy, my beloved people, can at all assuage your grief, you
will have it in rich abundance; if flowers, strewn by unknown
hands over his grave, can make it less sad for you, no day but will
find some votive offering to his goodness and his charity.
The mere residence in a community of the size of this, for any
length of time, of a good and kindly heart, makes its presence almost
a necessity. It grows to be one of the every day associations of life,
and the vacuum it occasions, is felt around every hearthstone. It
becomes a part of our daily sunshine, and when it passes away,
carries with it, for a time, the brightness and the cheerfulness of
our existence. And if this be so with an individual holding no
peculiar relationship to us, how much more keenly is it felt when
that loving heart has beamed from the face and warmed the actions
of one, linked to us by all the solemnest ties that bind man to man
in undying love. Then is it that feelings are crushed which can
never be made to flourish again, that associations are stripped away
which no effort can reproduce, and our inner life receives a shock
that accompanies it to the grave. As you stand around his bier this
day, a crowd from every class of society, and from every Christian
body of the city, has not every one of you some sweet affection to
bury in his grave 1 Amid the varying circumstances of life, he
has, at one moment or another, crossed your threshold upon some
errand of mercy, and left among you the fragrance of his goodness.
And if each one was called upon to testify to his virtues, I speak
not too boldly when I say, that no one, who is not a mere passing
7
stranger, but would have his story of benevolence, or comfort, or
sympathy, or guidance, to tell, with streaming eyes and swelling
hearts, over his coffin.
Such a life, so linked with all the quiet affections of our being, is
never fully appreciated until it passes away. It is like any one
of the great blessings of God in nature. It has so sui'rounded us—
so become a part of our customary existence and daily comfort—that
we do not value it as we should until it is finally lost to us. How
few of us return thanks to God for those daily gifts of his goodness
—the sunshine, the air, the water—and yet what should we more
keenly miss, were they taken from us, or diminished, or polluted %
And just so is it with God's blessings to us in the moral world.
The cheerful, the kind, the good, the religious, are not those who
are most admired, or most honoured while they live. These tokens of
veneration the world bestows on the rai-er gifts of God's provi¬
dence—the eloquent, the powerful, the heroic. But when the good
die, then is it that the universal sorrow, the general burst of affection
and of feeling, testifies that something has been taken away, which
belonged not to a family, not to a party, not to a church, but to all
humanity. This testimony has been borne this week to our be¬
loved Brother. So long as he lived, while we dearly loved him,
we knew not how much he was a part of us, how closely linked he
was, on every hand, with our habits and our associations, as well as
with our affections. But now that he is gone ! now that the only
privilege left us is that of embalming his memory in our prayers
and praises—we all realize how enshrined he was in our hearts,
how many of our tenderest recollections must be rooted up, ere we
can cease to love him or lament him.
Your Pastor, my beloved people, has been taken from you in the
very prime of life, having just completed his forty-eighth year.
Although his frame was unusually slight, yet it seemed to promise
a long life, for there appeared to be very little upon which disease
could fasten itself. But there is no discharge in that war, and
whenever the will of God determines the end of our career, Death
will find some entrance into the frail tenement which emprisons
the spirit. Our Brother seems to have had a strong presentiment
that his career was drawing to a close. In letters received from
him within the past month, before any disease had manifested itself,
he said emphatically, that he considered his work as done in this
Church, and only a few days before he was laid upon his bed of death,
he selected, amid the venerable shades of Bonaventure, his own final
resting place. But all this, alien as it was from his cheerful spirit,
8
gave no uneasiness to those who loved him, sounded no death-knell
in their unconscious ears. It is remembered and noted now, and will
be treasured as another instance of those mysterious intercourses
between our spirits and the shadowy future, which are tokens to
us who believe, that the angels of God are ministering spirits sent
to minister to the Heirs of salvation. For why should not these
unseen servants of our God, that are about us as messengers
of good, be also privileged to warn us of that greatest of all trials
to the creature, the separation of body and of soul ? We pray con¬
stantly in our litany that we may be delivered from sudden death,
and yet wondei*, when the mysterious shadow of an angel's wing
across our path, foretells our entrance into the darker valley of the
shadow of death! Oh fools and slow of heart to believe! we have
no faith for the glory which is all around us in earth, and air, and
sky. Could some Prophet's touch but clear our darkened vision—
darkened by sin, by unbelief, by fear—how full of brightness would
be not only the daily walk of the Christain, but his dying bed, his
shroud, his grave ! As Angels changed the sepulchre of our Lord
from a charnel house into an antechamber of Heaven, so would they
be seen receiving the departing spirit, and watching the body of
every child of God.
From his manhood to his grave, our brother has known no service
but that of the Loi'd Jesus Christ. At the early age of twenty,
after having taken his degree at Columbia college, New York, Dr.
Neufville entered upon the study of divinity in the General
Theological Seminary of the Episcopal Church. He received
Deacon's orders at the hands of the Right Rev. Dr. Bowen, of South
Carolina, in 1824, when he had not yet attained his twenty-second
year. His first and only parish, save this in which he died, was
the small rural parish of Prince William's, South Carolina, where
he laboured most acceptably until the winter of 1827. The death
of the Rev. Abiel Carter, during the autumn of 1827, created a
vacancy, not only in Christ Church, but in the hearts of some of
those who now sit before me, which it was no easy matter to fill.
To that difficult task was Dr. Neufville called at the early age of
twenty-five, only a few months after he had received Priest's orders,
and how fully he has redeemed his institution vow of being a
faithful shepherd over you, this holy sanctuary, this numerous flock,
these precious tears, must testify.
Dr. Neufville's whole ministerial career may truly be said to
have been run in this Church. You have known him in all the
stages of his spiritual life, its growth, its maturity, its dissolution ;
9
and I am sure that you will respond to my sincere expression of
feeling when I say, that few ministers of the gospel have passed so
blamelessly and so successfully through so long a cour*se of service.
In these days of change and fickleness, of hasty judgment of men
and things, to have been a quarter of a century the Shepherd of
only one flock, is, in itself, no small praise, and no slight evidence
of his happy adaptation to his field of labour. But when to this is
added that, during that time, the whole aspect of church affairs
within this city has changed, and that he has left behind him this
noble edifice, this large congregation, this ever increasing commu¬
nion, you need no stronger outward tokens of his devoted faithful¬
ness. But I should do only scant justice to my dear Brother or his
people, was I to stop here. There is no church in this diocese,
unless it be St. Paul's, Augusta, that has not felt the impulse of
this Pastor and this people. Christ Church, under his care, has
been the nursing mother of the infant churches of the Diocese, has
been the right arm of the Episcopate. Nor has its liberality been
confined only to this Diocese. For every proper application from
abroad, he had a listening ear and an open hand, and all our Missiona¬
ry operations were fostered by his judicious and well-timed benefi¬
cence. And all this, without the least pretension, without the least
ostentation. The manner in which he dispensed the liberality of
his church, was as pleasant to the feelings of the recipients as the
liberality itself. He seemed ever to feel that he was only the
steward of his people, freely giving back to the Lord what he had
so freely given them. And, my beloved people, at this solemn mo¬
ment, and over this dead body, let me ask you whether you have
any reason to regret the bounty which has passed through his
hands, comforting the needy, blessing the afflicted, building up the
kingdom of Christ'? Has the liberality to which those now cold
lips so often urged you, tended to your poverty 1 Nay, are you
not obliged to acknowledge that God has given you double for your
charity ; " that the administration of this service has," to use the
words of St. Paul to the Corinthians, " not only supplied the wants
of the saints, but been abundant also by many thanks-givings unto
God" % Continue, then, I pray you, out of love for yourselves,
out of love for him, to tread in the same paths of righteousness,
and as you have received the Lord Jesus Christ, to walk in him to
the end.
In producing these results, my beloved Brother knew how to
touch the right chord in the human heart. The love of Christ
10
was the constraining motive which he pressed upon his people.
He took no lower ground, so that when fixed upon your hearts it
might remain a permanent and germinating principle. He seldom
appealed to mere earthly motives, but summoned you to the work
as conscript soldiers of the Cross, pledged by holiest vows to the
service of your Lord. His views of Christian truth were clear and
fixed, and while he was ever courteous to those who differed fi-om
him, any novelties, either in doctrine or practice, passed by him
as the idle wind. Decided as an Episcopalian, and evincing that
decision by spending himself for its extension and support, he did
not deem himself, on that account, called upon to sacrifice all the
kindly charities of life and of religion. "Wherever he found a
Christian heart, one from which breathed the spirit of his master,
there he found a Christian brother. But while this was so, he was
ever a strict adherent to the ritual of the Church. Methodical in
all his personal habits, punctual to the moment in all his appoint¬
ments, the regularity of our ritual was in strict consonance not only
with the convictions of his understanding, but with the very instincts
of his nature, And when he rose in his desk each Sunday morning,
with his spotless robes, his calm and cheerful face, his deep
sonorous voice, we all felt that the beauty of holiness was deepened
by his minute attention to all the decencies of worship.
Few Ministers have ever read our Liturgy with more correctness
or more beauty. He truly considered it as a very large part of
our usual worship, and appreciated fully its importance as an ele¬
ment of religion. Gifted by nature with a sweet and flexible voice,
he used it in excellent taste, and passed not the bounds of strict
devotional propriety, while yet he gave full power and meaning to
the magnificent anthems and litanies which have come down to us
embalmed in the devotion of centuries. His earnest and solemn
tones yet linger upon my ear, and will ever linger, as one of the
sweetest associations of this sanctuary.
Of Dr. Neufville as a preacher, it is difficult for me to speak,
for the relations in which we have stood to each other, have almost
entirely denied me the pleasure of hearing him. At our Conven¬
tional meetings he always preferred that the younger clergy of
the Diocese should be the preachers, speaking of himself as having
borne the heat and burden of the day in the edification of the
Diocese. And yet almost invariably at those meetings has the
request been formally made of me by the older Episcopalians, who
in former days were scattered as sheep upon the mountains, with-
11
out a shepherd, that I would make him preach; for they desired
once again to hear the instructions they had so much valued in their
days of separation from the Church of their love. But there was
no spark of vanity or ambition in his nature, and he seemed ever
to have the feeling of John the Baptist, and to have it cheerfully,
not as a man that was disappointed or dissatisfied with the measure
of his fame, but as one who really rejoiced in spirit whenever God
was pleased to raise up an eloquent or able preacher of the word,
" He must increase, but I must decrease."
But it was as a Pastor that Dr. Neufville was most decidedly
eminent. In many of the elements that make up that character, I
have never seen his equal. I have known ministers more remark¬
able in some of the qualities of a Pastor, but never one who com¬
bined them all more happily. He seemed to me to find time for
every thing, and to carry every body in his thoughts and upon his
heart. He neglected nothing, he forgot nothing, he omitted noth¬
ing ; and the very smallest proprieties of life, and the minutest
attentions were lavished, in every direction, with a profusion almost
incompatible with the extent of his duties and his cares. Where-
ever there was a tear to dry, or a wounded spirit to soothe—a
stricken heart to cheer, or an afflicted soul to comfort—a tempted
spirit to strengthen, or a departing one to speed on its eternal flight,
there was he, in the very spirit of his master, ministering alike to
temporal and spiritual wants the rich comforts of his Saviour's
love. He was always doing good. As he passed through the
streets, he cast by the wayside words of kindness ; as he stood in
the market place,
" Amid a crowd
That thronged the daily mart,
Let fall a word of hope and love,
Unstudied from the heart.
A whisper on the tumult thrown,
A transitory breath,
It raised a brother from the dust,
It saved a soul from death."
But why need I speak of these things to you, upon whose hearts they
are written in lines that can never be effaced 1 What description
that I could give in words would at all equal the pictures which you can
summon up from the deep sanctuary of your own hearts, wherein
he has stood upon your hearthstones, and been the ministering
angel to those who were dearer to you than life itself! Whether
12
that picture be one of joy or of sorrow, whether you were sur¬
rounded with happy faces beaming with hope and anticipation, or
were clustered together in silent anguish, watching the departing
spirit as it struggled to be disembodied—the departing spirit of a
venerated parent, of a beloved wife, of a darling child—his sympa¬
thizing form will stand preeminent, the joy, the comfort, the peace,
of those around him. And how beautifully, in scenes like these,
he displayed the spirit of Christ. Faithful, yet full of love-
sympathizing, yet speaking the truth sternly—weeping himself,
yet in his very tears imparting comfort that made others' tears to
cease. Ah, my beloved people, you may find another minister that
shall speak sweeter music to you from the pulpit, but none that
will ever touch as successfully the chords of feeling in your hearts.
There is one other aspect in which I must be permitted to exhibit
his character, an aspect in which some of its noblest traits were
developed and illustrated. I allude to the relation which he has
held to this Diocese. When he entered upon the work of the min¬
istry in Georgia, there were but three Episcopal churches in the
Diocese, his own, the church upon St. Simon's Island, and St. Paul's,
Augusta. His position here and his office as President of the
Standing Committee, placed him, in a measure, at the head of the
Diocese, and for years he laboured to extend her Churches through
the interior counties. Macon, Columbus, Clarksville, were suc¬
cessively nurtured into life under his fostering care, and this I say
withoutintendingto derogate from the labours of those eminent ser¬
vants of Christ, who afterwards built them up into the strength
of a vigorous manhood. And when his labours and his cares had
brought the Diocese to a condition which called for a Bishop of its
own, he might well have claimed the post as his by right of creation.
But this was not our Brother. He laboured in the church for no
selfish ends. His aim and purpose were to gather together the
scattered sheep of Christ into their own familiar fold, and so it
was a voice which the sheep would know and obey, he cared not
that it should be his own. He waived all pretensions to the Epis¬
copate, and heartily united with his brethren in placing the burden
upon other shoulders. And this without any mere affectation of
humility, for from the hour of my consecration to this his dying
bed, has he stood by me, my tried friend, my valued counsellor,
my true Christian brother. Without him, the Diocese could not
have grown as it has grown ; and unless his successor be of the
same spirit and of the same mind, it may receive even now a dis¬
astrous shock.
13
The death of your Pastor, my beloved people, was like his life, an
exhibition of the highest results of Christianity, without any pre¬
tension. His disease, as you are aware, took a very sudden change
for the worse, developing rapidly delirium and stupor. There was
no time for a death-bed repentance, for a death-bed hope in Christ.
He must answer the summons of his Lord exactly as it found him.
"We feared for a time that he might die and make no sign, but on
Friday before his death, after a night of great delirium, to
which had succeeded a heavy stupor, I determined to administer to
him the last consolations of our religion. His friends thought him
incapable of comprehending the solemnity of the act, or at least of
keeping his mind fixed upon the necessary service. I trembled
myself, lest he might have passed beyond the point at which it
would have comforted and strengthened him. But what affection
failed to do—what the calls of a beloved wife and darling children
could not effect—the solemn service of the church wrought in him.
It broke the deep sleep in which he lay unconscious, it checked
the wild, unbridled current of his thoughts, and he became calrn^
collected, possessed. It was as the voice of a mother to a child,
reviving, soothing, quieting, when all else was unheeded. To our
astonishment, this dying man, who was supposed to be deprived
of consciousness, of feeling, of utterance, responded distinctly
through every portion of our Communion service, and when ap¬
proaching him to administer the elements, I asked him " Do you
understand what I am doing V' his distinct answer was " per¬
fectly and stretched out his open palm to receive the bread,
exactly as was his custom. It was indeed a solemn scene, and to
many then present, almost a miraculous one. It was a gleam of
light in the midst of surrounding darkness, vouchsafed as a conso¬
lation to those who loved him, and as a testimony to you, his people,
how sweet to a dying man is the voice of a Saviour's love. Once
again he united with us in prayer, and then sunk into that lethargy
from which he was never more to be aroused.
This death, my beloved people, comes very near to all of us.
It speaks to us in tones that ring in our ears, "Be ye also ready, for
ye know neither the day nor the hour when the Son of Man cometh"!
Who so full of life and cheerfulness as he but a very few days
ago 1 And there he lies, the spirit gone to the God who gave it?
the dust to be returned to the dust as it was. I know not how it
has been with you, but it'has brought death nearer to me than any
event of my life. He has been so linked in my mind with all the
14
offices of religion, that it is as if he had carried them with him away
from earth, and left us here desolate. And, my hearers, it is an
awful thought, and one that you should reflect upon here, over his
body, and at the mouth of his grave, that, in a certain sense, he
has carried those offices of religion to the judgment seat of Christ,
there to be swift witnesses against you, if unwilling or unworthy
recipients. You shall never meet him again until you meet him
there, and instead of the friend, the guide, the counsellor, the com¬
forter, he must stand before his master and say of you, " Such a
child did I receive, O blessed Lord, into thy fold, but in spite of bap¬
tismal vows, of parental faithfulness, of ministerial warning, he has
cast away thy love and mercy, and has refused to be reconciled."
" Such a disciple began to run well, tasted of the heavenly gift,
was made partaker of the Holy Ghost, but the temptations of the
world, and the wiles of the Devil have entangled him, and he has
crucified afresh the Son of God." " This man have I called unto
for years, rising up early and calling, but he has refused to hear,
and has been deaf to mercy, to threatening, to affliction, hardening
himself against every thing." "This woman have I appealed to in
season and out of season, exhorting, reproving, rebuking, but she
has set at nought all my counsel and would none of my reproof."
How terrible is this, and yet is it precisely the relation which he
must occupy to you hereafter. His work is done, his register is
made up, and what stands recorded against you of inattention, of
obduracy, of hardness of heart, of contempt of God's word and
commandments, will stand there forever, unless his death impress
you unto eternal life!
But above all, his death bed warns you against postponing re¬
pentance and the exercises of religion to a dying hour. Oh how
often has he warned you against that evil, from this pulpit, and now
he preaches it to you once more from his own dying bed! How im¬
possible would it have been for him to have made his peace with
God under the distressing circumstances of his last moments.
Christian as he was, Minister as he was, he could scarcely find an
interval of reason sufficient to commend his peaceful soul into the
hands of his faithful Creator and most merciful Saviour, and you
are willing to run the awful risk of postponing repentance, faith*
holiness, to such an hour ! Let me beseech you over the body of
your Pastor, to rest in no such vain delusion. Repent while it is
called to-day. Believe while you have a sound mind and a feeling
heart, a mind that can understand the work of our Saviour, a heart
that can accept and rejoice in it.
15
But one more office remains between you and your Pastor. It
is tbat you now commit his body to the grave in hope of a joyful
resurrection unto eternal life. Much of love, of memory, of asso¬
ciation, will be buried with him! Oh let not his instruction, his
warnings, his advice be likewise buried 1 Keep them with you
as words from the spirit-land, ever entreating you to "prepare to
meet your God,"
At the close of the address, the last four verses of the 72d Hymn
were sung, after which the procession moved, attended by an im¬
mense concourse of citizens, to the City burial ground, where the
closing portions of the burial service having been pronounced by
the Bishop, the body of Dr. Neufville was deposited in the vault
of Wm, B. Bulloch, Esq.
The subjoined resolutions from Christ Church and St. John's,
Savannah, and St. Paul's, Augusta, will speak for themselves the
feelings of those congregations.
EXTRACT
From the Minutes of the Vestry of Christ Church.
Whereas, it has pleased Almighty God to remove from the
scene of his labours, our beloved pastor, the Rev. Edward Neuf¬
ville, D. D., therefore be it
Resolved, That we, the Wardens and Vestrymen of Christ
Church, of the City of Savannah, submit with all humility and
resignation to this most afflicting dispensation, and with becoming
gratitude to the Great Disposer of events that our late lamented
pastor has been so long spared to build up and strengthen this
church, and through it the other churches of the diocese of Geor¬
gia.
16
Resolved, That we offer to the bereaved widow and family of
the deceased, the expression of our highest consideration and of
our deepest sympathy, commending them in this their hour of
need, to the protection of the Husband of the widow and the
Father of the fatherless, and to the bright and happy memories,
and the peerless example of the loved one who has been removed
from their midst.
Resolved, That we take upon ourselves, for the Church, the ex¬
pense and the responsibility of the obsequies of our late pastor,
and will pay to his widow his salary for the first quarter of the
current year.
Resolved, That we will cause to be placed in Christ Church, in
perpetuam memoriam, a suitable tablet which shall commemorate the
eminent virtues of our late pastor, and mark the period of his
connexion with Christ Church.
Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions be presented to the
widow of the deceased, and be read to the congregatoin by the
Bishop on his first visit to this city.
W. P. HUNTER,
Secretary Vestry Christ Church.
Savannah, Jan. 9 th, 1851.
At a special meeting of the Wardens and Vestry of St. John's
Church, held on Wednesday evening, January 15, 1851, the fol¬
lowing preamble and resolutions were unanimously adopted :
The sad event which has lately afflicted not only Christ Church,
but the whole community, in the death of the Rev. Dr. Neufville,
falls heavily on the congregation of St. John's Church. The early
existence of this church owes much to his fostering hand, and
encouraging efforts. While, therefore, we must bow with submis¬
sion to this dispensation of God, we cannot but sorrow for our be¬
reavement. Far more must they feel his loss to whom his presence
was more constant, and who were more dependant upon his imme¬
diate guidance and support. Under these circumstances, be it
Resolved, That the Wardens and Vestry of St. John's, for them¬
selves, and as representing its congregation, cannot but sympathize
most sincerely with the family of the deceased, and with their
brethren of Christ Church.
17
Resolved, That the memory of the Rev. Edward Neufville will
ever be cherished in our hearts.
Resolved, That a blank page of our minutes be inscribed with
his name and the date of his death.
Resolved, That the Secretary furnish a copy of these resolutions
to the Wardens and Vestry of Christ Church, and to the family of
the departed.
Extract from the minutes.
R. G. GUERARD, SecWy.
A;f a meeting of the Rector, Wardens and Vestrymen of St.
Paul's Church, Augusta, convened on Tuesday, January 7th, 1851,
on the occasion of the death of the Rev. Dr. Neufville, the fol¬
lowing resolutions were unanimously adopted:
Resolved, That we have learned with unfeigned sorrow the
death of the Rev. Edward Neufville, D. D., late Rector of Christ
Church, Savannah, and Senior Resident-Presbyter of the Diocese
of Georgia.
Resolved, That while we bow with unfeigned submission to this
event, in the providence of the all-wise and all-righteous God, we
deeply feel and deplore the loss which this diocese has sustained
in the removal from among us of a ministering servant of the
church, identified with us from a very early period of our diocesan
organization, and " whose name is in all the Churches " thereof,
gratefully associated in their recollections with many a "labour of
love," and with an ardent and untiring devotion to their interests,
by his agency in her annual conventions, and especially in her
standing committee, of which last mentioned body he had, for many
years past, successfully, and with great acceptance, filled the office
of president.
Resolved, That we tender the assurance of our lively sympathy
in their bereavement, to the ancient and highly interesting flock
which, for nearly a quarter of a century, had enjoyed the privilege
of his ministrations, and to whom he had greatly and most deser¬
vedly endeared himself by a course of faithful public services,
and of kind, affectionate, and sympathizing private intercourse.
Resolved, That so far as we may venture to approach the sacred
sorrows of the late Home of our departed friend and brother, We
would also tender the assurance of our deep and heartfelt sympa-
18
thy to the bereaved partner of his bosom, and to their children,
commending them, for support and consolation under their sor¬
rows, to the tender love of that heavenly Father, who doth not
willingly grieve or afflict his children; and especi ally to their
recollections of the chi'istain virtues and excellence of him whom
they mourn, and of the glorious reward promised thereto, for
Christ Jesus' sake, by that all gracious G-od, at whose holy altars
and in whose life-giving word he so faithfully ministered.
Resolved That copies of the fox-egoing resolutions signed by the
Secretary, be furnished, respectively, to the Vestx-y of Christ
Church, Savannah, and to the beloved and respected relict of the
deceased.
Resolved, That these proceedings be published in the Churchman,
and the Banner of the Cross, as also in the Chronicle and Sentinel„
and the Constitutionalist, of this city.
0. Mclaughlin, sec'ry.