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THE 
 
 ALEXANDER MEMORIAL. 
 
 1879 
 
Anson D. F. Randolph & Company, 
 900 Broadzuay, New York. 
 
THE ALEXANDER TABLET, ERECTED BY THE 
 ALUMNI IN THE CHAPEL OF THE THEOLOGICAL 
 SEMINARY, AT PRINCETON, N. J., WAS UNVEILED 
 ON THE 29TH OF APRIL, 1879, WHEN THE FOL- 
 LOWING ADDRESSES WERE DELIVERED. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2011 with funding from 
 
 Microsoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/alexandermemoriaOOnewy 
 
ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D.D. 
 
ADDRESS 
 
 BY WILLIAM M. PAXTON, D.D. 
 
 THESE tablets, as I understand them, 
 put honor not only upon the names 
 which they bear, but also upon the 
 Alumni of Princeton Seminary. 
 
 They tell to the world how much we loved 
 these men, and simply to love such men is our 
 highest praise. 
 
 Archibald Alexander needs no tablet to 
 perpetuate his name. There is his monument. 
 Princeton Seminary is the record of his fame. 
 He projected it, cradled it, nurtured it. He 
 chose and gathered around him the honored 
 associates who helped him to make it what it 
 is. He watched over it for forty years. He 
 commenced with three students, and lived to 
 see the Seminary in its full-grown maturity, its 
 class-rooms crowded with one hundred and 
 
sixty candidates for the ministry. As long as 
 the fame of Princeton Seminary endures, the 
 name of Archibald Alexander will not be for- 
 gotten. 
 
 He lives also in his children. Monumental 
 sons rose up at his side, bright and polished 
 shafts, that cast their radiance afar, sons who 
 have inscribed their names side by side with 
 that of their father upon this entablature of 
 honor and worth. 
 
 He lives also in his writings. The books 
 of a few men live, but there are some men 
 who live in their books. In that book on 
 " Religious Experience " Dr. Alexander lives. 
 The book itself is a breath of life. A front- 
 ispiece gives us his picture, but the book is 
 himself. The one shows us his face, the other 
 makes us feel the pulsations of his heart. 
 There was only one man who could have writ- 
 ten the " Pilgrim's Progress," so there was but 
 one who could have written this book on re- 
 ligious experience. The name of John Bun- 
 
9 
 
 yan will live as long as there is a pilgrim Zion- 
 bound; so Dr. Alexander will live in this book 
 as long as religious experience lasts. 
 
 But Archibald Alexander still lives in the 
 whole Presbyterian Church. John Wesley 
 lived to impress his image and superscription 
 upon, and to breathe his spirit into, a whole 
 denomination, so that wherever in the wide 
 world you see Methodism, there you see John 
 Wesley. Dr. Alexander did not live in an 
 age in which this could be done ; but in his 
 measure and to an extent which can not now 
 at this distance of time be readily understood, 
 he impressed himself upon, and breathed his 
 spirit into, the whole Presbyterian Church. 
 It is true, indeed, that Dr. Alexander lived be- 
 fore the Union ; but it is true also that he 
 lived before the Division. I speak, therefore, 
 of his influence as a power in the whole Pres- 
 byterian Church for two reasons : first, because 
 it is wicked now for any one to have memory 
 enough to recollect that there ever was any- 
 
IO 
 
 thing but one happy, undivided Presbyterian 
 Church ; and, secondly, because it is a remark- 
 able fact connected with the singular power of 
 this extraordinary man, that his influence was as 
 potent in one branch of the Church as in the oth- 
 er. His students were in all the Synods, and 
 wherever they scattered, no matter on which 
 side of the fence they stood, they called him 
 Father. When the news of his death arrived 
 at the meeting of the New School Synod 
 in Bloomfleld, New Jersey, the announcement 
 sent a tide of sorrow through the whole as- 
 sembly. They hung his portrait up on the 
 wall of the church, and gathered around it 
 like mourning, weeping children, and then 
 passed a series of resolutions, the last clause 
 of which is, " We crave the privilege to mingle 
 our tears at the grave of a father." 
 
 When I look back through a period of 
 thirty years to the time when I entered the 
 ministry, I remember well that there was no 
 man in all the Church whose simple opinion 
 
II 
 
 was so all-powerful and all-controlling as that 
 of Dr. Alexander. Using the word " Pope " 
 in its best sense, as a spiritual father, I may say 
 that if the Presbyterian Church ever had a 
 Pope it was Archibald Alexander. I do not 
 know that any Council ever pronounced him 
 infallible, but when I was a boy there was a 
 strong belief among Presbyterians, and I do 
 not believe that it has grown weaker since, 
 that he came nearer to being infallibly right 
 than any Pope. He spoke because he knew, 
 and he seemed to know because he had seen. 
 Paul was caught up to the third heaven, but 
 was not permitted to tell about it ; but I have 
 heard Dr. Alexander talk of heaven as if he 
 had been there and knew all the angels. The 
 people who read his " Religious Experience " 
 had an indefinite impression that he was half 
 inspired, that somehow or other he was the 
 last of the Prophets, that he was born a little 
 late, and for that reason did not get in before 
 the Canon of the Scriptures closed. 
 
12 
 
 The hold which he had upon the confidence 
 of all good men and his influence in the 
 Church, sprang from his wisdom and goodness. 
 He was as humble as a child, so simple and 
 single-hearted that no one who knew him ever 
 suspected that he had a grain of self-interest 
 in any project. He never aimed at position 
 or grasped at power ; they simply came to 
 him — he had power just as a magnet has, not 
 by effort, but by a law of nature. He had 
 greatness within, and the circumstances of 
 power and influence gathered around him by 
 the law of attraction. 
 
 His power over men arose from a strange 
 combination of faculties. He had genius in 
 its best sense, a power to create, invent, and 
 combined both in the department of thought 
 and action. With these he combined that ex- 
 traordinary power which we call sagacity. He 
 had a clear insight into things, a quick percep- 
 tion of connections and adjustments, an intui- 
 tive judgment of means and ends. This, add- 
 
13 
 
 ed to energy and prompt decision, made him 
 an effective man. He was not a man whom 
 circumstances made ; he made the circum- 
 stances. Nature made him to be a ringleader. 
 If he had been a bandit, he would have been 
 the head of the band. If he had been a sol- 
 dier, he would have been the Commander of 
 the Army ; but as he was a Christian, he was 
 the Captain of the Lord's Host. He had a 
 rich experience of the Grace of God, and this 
 gave balance and impulse to all his powers. 
 He had no goodness by nature. He had as 
 much sin in him as usually falls to the lot of 
 man, but those who knew him constantly saw 
 the Lion held in the chains of Grace. 
 
 As a teacher the impression made upon the 
 students was his power to penetrate a subject. 
 The class to which I belonged heard his lect- 
 ures upon Didactic Theology as well as those 
 of Dr. Hodge. Dr. Hodge gave us a subject 
 with massive learning, in its logical develop- 
 ment, in its beautiful balance and connection 
 
H 
 
 with the whole system. Dr. Alexander would 
 take the same subject, and strike it with a 
 javelin, and let the light through it. His aim 
 was to make one point, and nail it fast. 
 I always came from his lecture with these 
 words running through my mind, "A nail 
 driven in a sure place." He carried the spear 
 of Ithuriel, and how often have we seen him 
 touch with it a specious theory, when lo, it 
 changed into a startling heresy ; as when from 
 the whispering toad Satan sprang forth, full- 
 armed and terrible. 
 
 But time would fail to finish this hurried 
 photograph of one whose life was written in 
 letters of light. 
 
 The stranger who in aftertime comes to 
 read this tablet, like the traveler who now, 
 in the Cathedral of St. Paul in London, reads 
 the name of Christopher Wren, has only to 
 look around him to see his monument. 
 
 There are monuments in the world which 
 express nothing but a sublime egotism. Great 
 
*5 
 
 kings in Egypt spent long lives in erecting 
 those majestic Pyramids to be either a mau- 
 soleum, or monument to themselves ; a monu- 
 ment to names that have perished in the sand- 
 drifts of time ; but here is one who never 
 thought of self, whose whole life was spent for 
 others, whose one motive was the glory of 
 God ; and yet by the ordering of Providence 
 the very work that grew around him is his 
 monument, his own life is his eulogy, and his 
 own works are his mausoleum. He was a 
 workman who built for God, and God built 
 this monument for him. 
 
 Napoleon erected for himself an Arch of 
 Triumph, in such a line that from the windows 
 of the Palace of the Tuilleries he could see 
 the setting sun behind it, and lighting up the 
 v/hole Arch with the full radiance of its set- 
 ting glory. This was his idea of apotheosis, 
 to make everything in the world and even the 
 splendor of the setting sun tributary to his 
 own glory. But here is one who sought noth- 
 
16 
 
 ing for himself; he hid himself in the shadow 
 of the Cross. He sought not that its light 
 might cast its splendor upon his fame, but that 
 the light of his life might be reflected upon 
 the Cross ; so that while he was nothing, Christ 
 might be all in all. The result is better than 
 an apotheosis, a position of everlasting re- 
 membrance in the hearts of God's people, and 
 a promise that " He shall shine as the bright- 
 ness of the firmament, as the stars for ever and 
 ever." 
 
JAMES WADDELL ALEXANDER, D.D. 
 
ADDRESS 
 
 BY THEODORE L. CUYLER, D.D. 
 
 THE name that has been assigned to me 
 on yonder marble tablet represents three 
 generations of devout pulpit eloquence ; 
 for the blood of the Blind Preacher of 
 Virginia mingled with the blood of the pa- 
 triarch of this Seminary in the veins of 
 James Waddell Alexander. He came into 
 the world through Virginia, and the last scenes 
 on which his closing eyes rested were the pict- 
 uresque peaks of his beloved Blue Ridge. 
 Through all his life he tethered to his native 
 State ; and it was a sovereign mercy to his 
 heart that he was called home to heaven just 
 before that region of Virginia rang with the 
 clash of resounding arms. 
 
 James W. Alexander lived on earth fifty-five 
 years — every one of them busy to the brim. 
 
20 
 
 To condense them into ten minutes is like an 
 attempt to cut Westminster Abbey on a cameo. 
 Nearly one-half of his professional career was 
 passed in this historic town. I first saw him 
 in yonder college, when he was my Professor 
 of Latin and English Literature. At that time, 
 the Faculty of Nassau Hall was resplendent 
 with the names of Torrey the chemist, Stephen 
 Alexander the star-gazer, Albert B. Dod the 
 brilliant mathematician and metaphysician, and 
 Joseph Henry the king of American science. 
 In this splendid Faculty Professor Alexander 
 shone as a peer. He was a master of old La- 
 tinitv, and the modern Humanities. We, his 
 pupils, recall him now as, scrupulously dressed, 
 he used to mount the steps to his lecture- room 
 in the old " Whig Hall." We recall the pre- 
 cise tones in which he used to quote Quintil- 
 lian and Cicero, and would say to us students, 
 " Sir ! please to say something about Pericles." 
 While he was teaching us through the week, 
 he loved to preach the Gospel of Jesus gratu- 
 
21 
 
 itously — down in Witherspoon Street negro 
 chapel — to the children of God carved in eb- 
 ony. 
 
 His connection with this Theological Semi- 
 nary was very brief — extending from 1849 to 
 1 85 1 — and it was the most uneventful episode 
 of his noble life. He had been for five years 
 a much-loved pastor in New York ; and he 
 hungered to get back to the pulpit which was 
 his throne, and to his empire in the people's 
 hearts. He wrote to his friend Hall, " I long 
 to be back to my pastoral rounds, my sick folk, 
 and my good old women." The pulpit of 
 New York has had more thrilling orators, and 
 more brilliant pyrotechnists ; but it never held 
 a more symmetric, scholarly, spiritual, and 
 satisfying minister of Jesus Christ than James 
 W. Alexander. The word to describe him is 
 — satisfying. He satisfied the intellect ; he 
 satisfied the purest taste ; he satisfied the con- 
 science ; he fed the innermost soul of the devout 
 believer ; and it is no ordinary achievement to 
 
22 
 
 have equally satisfied the culture of Fifth Av- 
 enue, and the company of humble negroes 
 who clung to him in the Witherspoon Street 
 Chapel. If to-day both those surviving con- 
 gregations could come to pay their homage 
 before this tablet, I am sure that my departed 
 friend would value more the " two mites" of 
 poor old " Aunt Flora," the negro woman, 
 than all the costlier tributes of Murray Hill 
 millionaires. 
 
 Dr. Alexander was not only an accomplish- 
 ed Professor, and a most affluent preacher of 
 the Word ; he was also a voluminous author. 
 He put more thoughts into type than any man 
 who has ever lived in Princeton. He was a 
 most prolific writer for the daily and weekly 
 press ; and he prepared an article for every 
 number of old " Princeton Repertory." God 
 be thanked for that grand old Repertory ! 
 Presbyterian ministers who not only studied 
 it, but steered by it, were certain never to run 
 on the rocks. Dr. Alexander wrote thirty-five 
 
Sunday-school books for children, and left 
 several volumes of Discourses which are as full 
 of savor and sweetness as a pressed honey- 
 comb. His rich and suggestive " Thoughts on 
 Preaching" contain really the cream of all the 
 series of lectures on Homiletics that have been 
 delivered by various celebrated men at Yale. 
 That book is marrow and fatness for every 
 young minister. Of all the many productions 
 of my beloved friend, I am inclined, however, 
 to rate most highly his "Charles Quill" letters 
 to workingmen — which have the simplicity 
 and pith of Benjamin Franklin — and his cele- 
 brated " Forty Years' Letters " to his friend 
 Dr. Hall, of Trenton. James Hamilton, of 
 London, once said to me that a perusal of them 
 was the next best thing to a visit to America. 
 The most brilliant Bishop in the Methodist 
 Church also said to me that he regarded it as 
 one of the dozen most remarkable works yet 
 produced in this country ! To the future his- 
 torian it will be as valuable a picture of the 
 
24 
 
 times as Pepys' Diary and Burnet's Memoirs 
 were to Lord Macaulay. That must have 
 been a rich mental gold mine whose careless 
 " washings " could yield such an auriferous pro- 
 duct as the " Forty Years' Letters." 
 
 But let me not forget to pay honest tribute 
 to Dr. Alexander's beauty and nobleness as a 
 personal friend. He often honored me with 
 hours of intimate converse. Many of you 
 remember how he varied in his moods, and 
 sometimes suffered from fits of physical depres- 
 sion. When the clouds of depression ran low 
 along the steeps of his mind, he was quite un- 
 approachable. But when the sunshine of 
 cheerfulness burst forth, he was as sweet as 
 summer. Most grave and devout in the pul- 
 pit, he often relaxed by the fireside into a 
 sportive humor, which had the delicate flavor 
 of Charles Lamb's. Never shall I forget a 
 most fertilizing afternoon talk I enjoyed with 
 him in yonder parlor of his father's house. 
 His flow of merriment was wonderful. As he 
 
25 
 
 was then studying hymnology, I showed him 
 a queer old Methodist camp-meeting hymn- 
 book which contained this remarkable coup- 
 let — 
 
 "When I was blind, and could not see, 
 The Calvinists deceived me ! " 
 
 Dr. Alexander laughed till the tears ran down 
 his face, and he begged the loan of the book, 
 which proved to be permanent. But he more 
 than repaid the loss by sending to me Charles 
 Lamb's original copy of Vinny Bourne's Po- 
 ems, with the autograph of Lamb's Latin epi- 
 gram (the only one he ever wrote) on the fly- 
 leaf of the precious volume. 
 
 Oh ! at how many points my honored friend 
 touched human life ! Touched its rich and 
 varied scholarship — touched the sympathies of 
 sorrow's home — touched the highest reach of 
 society and its lowliest — and touched every 
 key of devout emotion ! All his splendid at- 
 tainments, all his many-sided and multiform 
 
26 
 
 life-work, he laid as an humble offering before 
 the Throne. 
 
 I well remember meeting him, at the hour 
 of sunset, in the valley of Interlaken. We 
 stood together in an open field, and watched 
 the icy diadem of the Jungfrau just as it was 
 blossoming into ruddy gold. Dr. Alexander 
 stood silent, gazing upward, and then turning 
 to me with a reverent awe, he exclaimed, " The 
 Almighty made that to show what He could 
 do!" 
 
 The last time I ever met him was a month 
 before his death ; we met in the presence 
 of Church's painting of " The Heart of the An- 
 des." I observed that his hands were very trem- 
 ulous, and the ashen hue of approaching death 
 was already overshadowing his countenance. 
 A few days afterward he set his face south- 
 ward. He went back to the home of his in- 
 fancy ; back to the crystal airs of his Virginia 
 mountains ; back to the sincere gospel-milk he 
 had been fed with at his mother's knee ; back 
 
27 
 
 to the cross of his adorable and beloved Re- 
 deemer ; and there he laid him down to die. 
 He used often to say, " On my dying bed I 
 want the Gospel to be self-evidencing" This 
 joy was vouchsafed to him. For almost the 
 last words which fell from his dying lips were, 
 "/ know whom I have believed!' 1 It was beau- 
 tiful to see how this great, erudite scholar just 
 put the soft pillow of this sweet little text un- 
 der his weary brain and calmly fell asleep in 
 Jesus. And so our earth lost, and heaven 
 welcomed, James Waddell Alexander. 
 
^£*_. 
 
JOSEPH ADDISON ALEXANDER, D.D. 
 
ADDRESS 
 
 BY WILLIAM C. CATTELL, D.D., LL.D. 
 
 ]N the career of this eminent scholar we find 
 that in a large and truthful sense the boy 
 was father to the man. In his youth he was 
 a marvel of genius and learning, and when he 
 ceased from his labors in the full maturity of 
 his powers, all Israel mourned his loss ; for his 
 fame was in all the churches as a brilliant wri- 
 ter, as an accurate, varied, and profound scholar, 
 as a luminous and sagacious commentator, and 
 as a preacher of marvelous power. His inti- 
 mate friends and associates knew also that 
 there was in him a vast reserve of power that 
 never appeared to the public, and which seem- 
 ed to them equal to far greater things than he 
 accomplished, even in a career so brilliant. 
 " Taking him all in all," said his life-long col- 
 league — that great master upon whose memo- 
 
32 
 
 rial tablet, in our recent sorrow, we look with 
 moistened eyes to-day, and who knew what 
 greatness was — " taking him all in all," said 
 Dr. Charles Hodge, " he was certainly the 
 most gifted man with whom I have ever been 
 personally acquainted." 
 
 But we are gathered here to-day as his old 
 pupils, and this brief address is expected to re- 
 call mainly his honored memory as an in- 
 structor. Although, as an author and as a 
 preacher, he was a Prince in Israel ; yet his 
 great service to the Church was undoubtedly 
 in training her sons for the Gospel ministry. 
 To this exalted work and in this honored 
 school of the Prophets, for a quarter of a cent- 
 ury, he gave the whole force of his command- 
 ing genius and the opulent resources of his 
 varied and profound scholarship. For the 
 most of the time he was engaged in the exe- 
 getical criticism of the sacred volume, at first 
 with the Hebrew, and in the latter part of his 
 life with the Greek ; during the interval (from 
 
33 
 
 1852 to 1859) ne occupied the Chair of Ec- 
 clesiastical History in deference to the urgent 
 wishes of others, but the duties were never to 
 his taste. In one of his familiar letters refer- 
 ring to the change, he expressed his dislike at 
 " leaving the terra firma of inspired truth for 
 the mud and sand of patristic learning," and 
 he returned with undisguised joy to the more 
 congenial duties of the critical interpretation 
 of the inspired text. For this work he was 
 admirably qualified by his wonderful knowl- 
 edge of languages, for which, as I have inti- 
 mated, he was distinguished from his youth. 
 He began Latin at an age when most boys 
 are still wrestling with their primers. At the 
 age of ten he was pursuing the systematic 
 study of Hebrew and other Oriental languages ; 
 before he was twenty, as we gather from the 
 cautious and modest statements in his private 
 journal, he read easily and for the sake of then- 
 literature, Hebrew, Arabic, Persian, Greek, 
 Latin, Spanish, French, Italian, and German, 
 
34 
 
 and in the prime of his life he was a thorough 
 master of all languages worth knowing. To 
 these stores of linguistic learning was added a 
 rare critical sagacity and a noble fidelity to the 
 truth that wrought unweariedly to ascertain 
 the exact meaning of the text. His crowning 
 gift as an exegetical instructor was a devout 
 and reverent love for the Bible, that influenced 
 his whole life as a Christian and as a teacher. 
 The sacred volume was to this erudite scholar 
 far more than a venerable classic or an inter- 
 esting subject for linguistic and critical studies. 
 He read it constantly and prayerfully as a 
 means of private devotion, often completing 
 whole books at one reading, in the various 
 languages with which he was familiar, and at 
 other times dwelling long and lovingly upon 
 each verse and line, as he says in his diary with 
 reference to the Psalms, " drinking them in 
 drop by drop." Highly favored indeed were 
 we, preparing for the ministry of the Word, 
 to sit at the feet of an exeeetical teacher 
 
35 
 
 whose acute, learned, and exhaustive criticisms 
 of the ipsissmia verba were in keeping with 
 so great and so sacred a love for the inspired 
 records. He taught us by precept and by ex- 
 ample that every resource of learning and all 
 the strength of the most cultured powers 
 should be employed to ascertain simply the 
 meaning of the inspired text, and then what 
 those words taught should be received as the 
 truth of God, toward which the attitude of 
 scholar and theologian should be that of the 
 believing child — Speak, Lord, for Thy servant 
 heareth ! 
 
 The manner and methods of such a man in 
 the class-room, and his influence over his stu- 
 dents generally, is something that may be im- 
 agined, but which it is impossible to describe. 
 It was unlike that of other men. We loved 
 and revered all our teachers here, but there 
 was a strange charm about Dr. Addison Alex- 
 ander, this cloistered student, who was such 
 an habitual recluse from society, and at the 
 
36 
 
 same time the most accurate and discriminat- 
 ing observer of men and things, and as famil- 
 iar with all the current events in the Church 
 and with the social life around him as he was 
 with latest scholia of the German critics and 
 with the voluminous and learned commenta- 
 ries of the Rabbins upon the Talmud. We 
 looked with something like awe upon the 
 great scholar whose apparently exhaustless 
 learning was poured forth hour after hour in 
 the lecture-room, and who loved and sought 
 the society of little children, and, with a heart 
 as guileless and pure as theirs, would spend 
 with them many happy, gleeful hours. Then 
 he was oddly impatient of routine ; he would 
 go at a bound from one extreme to another — 
 leaving the quiet seclusion of his Princeton 
 study he would seek a room on the ground- 
 floor of a New York hotel, fronting upon the 
 very noisiest street, where, through the sum- 
 mer vacation, he wrote at the open window 
 and amid all the din and confusion, eight or 
 
37 
 
 ten hours a day upon his most learned com- 
 mentaries, with no book at hand but the 
 Bible ! A man of such apparent opposites, it 
 must be confessed that he would now and 
 then give a turn to affairs in the class-room 
 that would throw us all into what would mild- 
 ly be called a state of confusion. I need not 
 harrow up the feelings of any of his old pu- 
 pils here present by remarking that upon suit- 
 able provocation he could sting like a nettle, 
 or that a visit of ceremony, or of compliment 
 to his room, or even a personal interview after 
 class, unless the student had some good hon- 
 est business in hand, was not altogether the 
 most cheerful reminiscence of Seminary life ; 
 or that upon a regular field day in Hebrew, 
 horresco referens, he could produce an amount 
 of consternation and dismay throughout the 
 class that was frightful ! But upon these 
 memorabilia I may not dwell this morning. 
 It is enough to say that there was nothing in 
 all these things that hid him for a moment 
 
from our sight as the great-souled teacher 
 whose very presence was an inspiration. I lis 
 genius and learning and piety combined with 
 his personal magnetism — something, I know 
 not what, in the eye or voice or in the very 
 presence, that makes the true teacher greater 
 than his book — all this never failed to quicken 
 with strange delight and enthusiasm the pulse 
 of every student who had in him any blood at 
 all. Nor were we discouraged by the vast dis- 
 tance between the resources and power of 
 such a man and our own. It was his greatest 
 triumph as a teacher to make the Bible so glo- 
 rious to us that even the humblest felt that his 
 future ministry of such Oracles need not be 
 without honor and praise to their Divine 
 Author. 
 
 And there were, among his students, some 
 who were drawn nearer to him than the some- 
 what formal associations of the class-room al- 
 lowed — members of the private classes whom 
 he invited to pursue with him advanced studies 
 
39 
 
 —and these knew what a gentle, tender, loving 
 heart this great scholar had, and their personal 
 attachment to him rose to an enthusiasm. I 
 dare not trust myself to speak of the hours 
 I passed alone with Dr. Alexander in his study, 
 during my Post Graduate year, when at his in- 
 vitation I pursued with him his favorite Ori- 
 ental studies, but they are among the most 
 precious and cherished memories of my stu- 
 dent life. And when the great scholar and 
 teacher died, and men everywhere spoke of 
 the irreparable loss that this Seminary and 
 the Church had sustained, many of us mourn- 
 ed as in the deep shadow of a personal be- 
 reavement ; for a deep and grateful love had 
 been wrought into our reverent memories of 
 the teacher to whom we owed so much, and 
 as often as we have revisited these familiar 
 Halls it has been to us a great and sacred sor- 
 row that we should " see his face no more." 
 

 
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