MEMOIR. MEMOIR OF THE LIFE OF THE ET. REV. EICHAUD CHANNING MOOEE, ]). D. BISHOP OF THE PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL CHURCH DIOCESE OF VIRGINIA. BYJ. P. R. HENSHAW, D. D, RECTOR OF ST. PETEH's CHUnCH, BALTIMORE. ACCOMPANIED BY A SELECTION FROM THE SEEMONS OP THE LATE BISHOP. PHILADELPHIA: WILLIAM STAVELY AND CO. No. 12 Pear street. 1843. Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1842. by WILLIAM STAVELY AND CO. in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. PREFACE. The following Biography of the late Bishop Moore, un- dertaken at the request of his family, has been written in the hours which could be spared amidst the multiplied duties of a large parochial cure. The labours of the biographer have been lightened by the kindness of the Bishop's children, in copy- ing from his letter-book the most interesting parts of his cor- respondence ; and also in selecting and preparing for the press such of his sermons as they desired to have published. What- ever may be the faults and deficiencies of the Memoir, it claims to furnish a faithful portraiture of the life and character of a venerable Father in the Church, which her children may contemplate with satisfaction and profit. The writer has found it necessary to touch upon some deli- cate points, affecting the policy and usages of the Church, about which there is an acknowledged diversity of sentiment. With- out this, it would have been impracticable to present a faithful account of Bishop Moore's life and opinions. He has aimed, however, to perform this delicate part of his duty, less in the spirit of a partisan, than in that of a sincere inquirer after truth. He would not dogmatically enforce upon the reader an assent to all the views entertained either by himself or the subject of his memoir. For, however earnestly he may desire the exti no- tion of party names and of party spirit, he is persuaded that the readiest means of attaining it is to infuse the Catholic spirit of the Church into all her ministers and members: — to recognize the wide diflference which really exists between doC' IV PREFACE. trines of faith, and mere matters of opinion: — and to require nothing as essential to sound churclimanship, but a cordial agreement in the former, whatever diversity may exist re- specting the latter. The only proper test of orthodoxy is belief of the truth, as taught in the Articles and creeds; and confor- mity to the laws of the Church, embodied in her rubrics and canons: and not an assent to the interpretation put upon them by any particular class of Churchmen. Whenever the great body of the ministry and laity shall be led, like the venerable subject of the following Memoir, to act upon this principle, which is the principle of the Church — we shall behold, through- out the length and breadth of our communion, an answer to our daily prayer that " all who profess and call themselves Chris- tians, may hold the faith, in unity of spirit, and in the bond of peace." The Lord hasten it in his time ! J. P. K. H. Baltimore, August, 1842. CONTENTS. CHAPTER 1. 1762 TO 1787. PAGE. Introduction. The Bishop's Birth — Ancestry — Beneficial influence of maternal instruction and example. Indications of piety in his early childhood, and presentiments of future occupation in the sacred ministry. His classical education. Visit to West Point — anecdote of the Moore family during the Revolutionary War. Brief trial of sea-life. Devotes himself to the study of medicine — and enters into practice. His first marriage. His early relio-ious impressions in a great measure lost, and he conforms to the gaie- ties of the world. His conversion. • 9 CHAPTER II. From 1787 to 1809. Immediate change of purpose as to his profession after conversion. Reviews his classical studies. Enters upon preparation for Holy Orders. Ordained Deacon. His Sermon on the Fiftieth Anni- versary of his Ordination. His ministry at Rye. Intimacy with John Jay, His removal to St. Andrew's Church, Staten Island. ■ Practises medicine and teaches a school to aid in the support of his family. Letters to his children. Death of his wife, and letters occasioned thereby. His second marriage. His first at- tempt at extempore preaching, and subsequent success in it. Anecdote illustrative of his fidelity in pastoral duty; — another, showing his humanity. Remarkable revival of religion. The character and success of his ministry on Staten Island. 30 CHAPTER III. From 1809 to 1814. The advantages and disadvantages of city and country charges respectively. Dr. Moore's call to St, Stephen's Church, New York. The state of the Church in that city. Ministry of Dr. Hobart. The depressed condition of St. Stephen's when Dr. Moore took charge of it. Its rapid increase. The active eflbrts VI CONTENTS. PAGE, of George Warner, recorded by Bishop Moore in a letter to his widow. Lecture-room services and prayer meetings. The opinion of Bishop Moore respecting them. Their propriety dis- cussed. Approval of Nelson, Bishops Claggett and Kemp, and the present presiding Bishop. Letters on Prayer Meetings and Associations. Revivals of Religion, and Clerical Associations. Letters to Bishops Meade and Bowen on Anxious Seats and Re- vivals. The course of Dr. Moore in reference to an unhappy controversy in the Church of New York. A succinct review of the effect of his ministry in St. Stephen's.--- 70 CHAPTER IV. 1814. The early history of the Church in Virginia. Election of Dr. Griffith as Bishop, in 1786. Bishop Madison, the first Bishop of Virginia, consecrated in 1790. Deep depression of the Church, and its causes. Apostolic character and labours of the Rev. De- vereux Jarratt. Dr. Bracken's election in 1812. New era in the Church under the auspices of a few young Clergymen. Erec- tion of the Monumental Church in Richmond — and efforts made to obtain Dr. Moore for its first Rector with a view to his elec- tion as Bishop. Correspondence on the subject — including letters from Judge Washington, Bishop Hobart, and others. Propriety and delicacy of Dr. Moore's course in respect to it. His election by the Convention, and circumstances connected with his con- secration in 1814. His removal to Richmond. Previous condi- tion of the Episcopal community there. His great popularity and success. Fidelity in the pulpit and in pastoral visitation. Presentation to him of a splendid copy of the New Testament by his fellow citizens of all denominations. Summary view of his | character and labours as Rector of the Monumental Church. 107 CHAPTER V. From 1814 to 1829. The views and spirit with which Bishop Moore entered upon the duties of his Episcopate. Notices of the early success of his la- bours. An Episcopate fund proposed. Formation of Prayer Book and Tract Society. Rev. Benjamin Allen's labours. Mea- sures taken to promote theological education in connexion with William and Mary College. Founding of Theological School, and the Education Society. Brief sketch of the history of both. Fashionable amusements and lay discipline. View of Bible So- cieties, and letters relating to thorn. His ardent love for the Liturgy, and desire to have it strictly adhered to in his Diocese. CONTENTS. Vii PAGE. Opposition to proposed changes in it. Letters on the Liturgy. Baptismal Regeneration, &c. His views relating to the removals of Clergymen from one parish to another. Episcopal services in North Carolina. Death of Rev. Messrs, Norris and Wilmer. Rumours of his wish to retire from the Diocese. His desire for an Assistant Bishop. Dr. Meade elected, with an objectionable restriction, which was afterwards removed. Consecrated in 1829. 159 CHAPTER VI. FnoM 1829 to 1841. The expediency of having Assistant Bishops. Canonical restrictions as to their election, growing out of the case of Virginia, Bishop Moore's letter expressing his gratification at the election of Bishop Meade. A valuable relief to him. Performs Episcopal duties in Maryland. Conservative influences in the Church. Assisted at the consecration of Bishop Stone and preached on the occasion. His continued delight in Associations and Revivals. Recommendation of weekly offerings. Inadequate support of the clergy. Missionary efforts recommended. His zeal for the Church, and readiness to defend it. Letters of condolence. Prayer for an inquirer after truth. His ardent love for his chil- dren. Specimens of his domestic correspondence. His opinion of the " Tracts for the Times." Was he a High or a Low Church- man 1 He did all in a spirit of prayer. His love for the meet- ings of the Virginia Convention, and farewell addresses at their close. His frequent excursions. Visit to Baltimore in the fall of 1839, and again in 1840, to assist in the consecration of Bishop Whittingham. His visit to Westchester, Pa., in August, 1841. Attendance at the General Convention. Strong testimony in re- ference to Foreign Missionary Bishops. Visitation fo Lynchburg — statement of his last illness and death. The monument erected over his remains. Sketch of his character. Conclusion. 227 SERMON I. " The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures ; he leadeth me beside the still waters; herestoreth my soul; he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness, for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley and shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." —23d Psalm, 1st, 2nd, .3d, and 4th verses. 331 VlII CONTENTS. PAGE. SERMON II. "Jesus answering, said, Were there not ten cleansed T but where are the nine 1 There are not found, that returned to give glory to God, save this stranger." — St. Lukk, xvii. 17, 18. 343 SERMON III. '« And Elijah came unto all the people, and said. How long halt ye between two opinions 1 If the Lord be God, follow him ; but if Baal, then follow him." — 1 Kings, iviii. 21. 351 SERMON IV. " Not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to re- pentance."— 2Peteu, iii. 9. 360 SERMON V. " The hand of the Lord was upon me, and carried me out in the Spirit of the Lord, and set me down in the midst of the valley, which was full of bones, and caused me to pass by them round about: and, behold, there were very many in the open valley ; and, lo, they were very dry. And he said unto me, Son of man can these bones live "? And I answered, O Lord God, thou knowest." — Ezekiel, xxxvii. 1, 2, 3 370 SERMON VI. " As he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and a judgment to come, Felix trembled, and answered, Go thy way for this time, when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee." — Acts, ixiv. 25. 330 SERMON VII. " What wilt thou that I should do unto thee 1 The blind man said unto him, Lord, that I might receive my sight. And Jesus said unto him, Go thy way, thy faith hath made thee whole. And immediately he received his sight, and followed Jesus in the way." Mauk, X. 51, 52. — - 389 SERMON VIIL " The angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush : and he looked, and, behold the bush burn- ed with fire and the bush was not consumed ; and Moses said, CONTENTS. IX PAGE. I will now turn aside and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt.' — Exodus, iii. 2, 3. 199 SERMON IX. "He hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach delive- rance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised." — St. Luke, iv. 18.«"« 408 SERMON X. " God be merciful to me a sinner." — Luke, xviii. IS.- 420 SERMON XI. " When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee ; and when through the rivers they shall not overflow thee." — Isaiah, xliii. 2. 430 SERMON PXII. " How beautiful upon the mountains, are the feet of him thatbring- eth good tidings, that publisheth peace ; that bringeth good tidings of good ; that publisheth salvation ; that saith unto Zion, thy God reigneth !" — Isaiah, Iii. 7. 441 SERMON XIII. " I have received of the Lord, that which also I deli vered unto you, that the Lord Jesus, the same night in which he was betrayed, took bread : And when he had given thanks, he brake it, and said, Take, eat, this is my body which is broken for you ; this do in remembrance of me. After the same manner, also, he took the cup, when he had supped, saying, This cup is the New Testa- ment in my blood ; this do ye as oft as ye drink it in remembrance of me. For as often as ye eat this bread and drink this cup, ye do shew the Lord's death till he come." — 1 Cok. xi. 23 to 26. •••• 451 SERMON XIV. " As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God ! My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God; when shall I come and appear before God V — Psalm, xlii. 1, 2. 463 SERMON XV. " Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof, from such turn away." — 2 Tim. iii. 5. • 471 X CONTENTS. PAGE. SERMON XVI. " And he stretched forth his hand toward his disciples and said, Behold my mother and my brethren." — Matthew, xii. 49. 481 SERMON XVII. " And God saw their works, that they turned from their evil way ; and God repented of the evil that he had said he would do unto them, and he did it not." — Jonah, iii. 10. • 492 Erratum. — On page twelve it is stated, on the authority of Mr, Nor- wood's address, that John JMoore was the first person interred in Trinity Church-yard. It is probable that Mr. N. was misinformed as to this par- ticular fact. MEMOIR. CHAPTER I. 1762 TO 1787. Introduction. The Bishop's Birth— Ancestry— Beneficial inflaence of maternal instruction and example. Indications of piety in his early childhood, and presentiments of future occupation in the sacred ministry. His classical education. Visit to West Point— anecdote of the Moore family during the Revolutionary War. Brief trial of sea-life. Devotes him- self to the study of medicine— and enters into practice. His first marriage. His early religious impressions in a great measure lost, and he conforms to the gayeties of the world. His conversion. To give a biographical sketch of an eminent servant of God, who for more than half a century had occupied a dis- tinguished station in the ranks of the Christian ministry, and at least for a moiety of that period had been loved and venerated as a Right Reverend Father in God, is a task which one can hardly hope to execute so successfully as not to disappoint the expectations of those to whom the character and life of the subject of his memoir were fami- liarly known. Those who have often felt the magic power of action and the witchery of voice by which the living teacher of the Gospel sways the understanding and leads captive the affections of his hearers, and have been actual observers of that life in which his doctrines were so sweetly confirmed by the beautiful illustrations of a holy and vir- tuous conversation, will find any written account tame and unsatisfactory in comparison with the vivid impressions left A 10 MEMOIR OP THE on their minds by the knowledge of the original. To this class of readers the memoir of a beloved and distinguished individual would be like a pencil sketch of the Parthenon, or any other beautiful temple to one who had spent his life within view of its walls, — or an oral description of Niagara to one who had for years listened to the roaring of the cataract. Pictures of natural scenery and objects seldom afford satisfaction to those who are familiar with the origi- nals, and a man's own family most readily discover blem- ishes in a likeness of himself. No power of art can im- part to an image the beauty, or vividness, or interest of the living subject : all that can be attempted is a true outline, and a faithful representation ; which, while it may serve to convey to strangers some true idea of one they had never known, may, at the same time, serve to awaken pleasing recollections in the minds of others. The aged disciple, whose life is now to pass under our review, was extensively known to the religious community in the United Stales, and in the Church had long been es- teemed a Patriarch of the family. In this biography we shall attempt to give a faithful portraiture of the prominent features in his character, and the most eventful incidents in his history. If any who have known him long and inti- mately, will complain that some points which they most admired in him are not brought prominently into view, it is to be hoped that there will be enough of fidelity in the sketch to awaken in the minds of junior readers, and of pos- terity (should any of them peruse these pages) an admira- tion of the principles and practices of one they never had the privilege of knowing ; so that the memory of a Chris- tian Bishop, who largely possessed the love and confidence of this generation, may be embalmed in the veneration of the next. LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 11 Richard Chaining Moore was born in the city of New- York, on the 21st of August, A. D. 1762. He was the worthy scion of a good stock ; and so far as the history of his family is known to us, extending back through a period of more than two centuries, some respectable and honour- able names are found enrolled in the list of his progenitors. The first of these concerning whom we have any informa- tion, Sir John Moore, had for his family seat Frawley, in Berkshire, England. This gentleman was raised to the order of knighthood by Charles I., king of England, on the 2 1st of May, 1G27 : probably as a reward for some impor- tant services rendered to the country and the crown. The motto on his coat of arms was ; Nihil utile quod non honeslum. He was, doubtless, a monarchist in politics, and a churchman in religion ; as he lost both his fortune and life in those revolutionary excitements — produced more by a blind and ignorant religious bigotry than by a love of rational liberty — which deprived the unfortunate mo- narch of his crown, and brought him to an ignominious end upon the scaffold. It was a sacrifice professedly made to establish the rights of subjects, and freedom of conscience in religion. But the light which succeeding events have thrown upon the character of the agents, and of the suf- ferer, in that tragedy, has led many to contemplate it as a case of martyrdom in the cause of God and his Church. Of the descendants of Sir John Moore little is known until we come to John Moore, the grandfather of the la- mented Bishop, three of whose brothers, no less than him- self, were distinguished for their stations and virtues. One of them was the Rrv. Dr. Thomas Moore, chaplain to Dr. Atterbury, Bishop of Rochester, one of the most eminent .. scholars and celebrated preachers of his age. The well- known eloquent sermons of that admired prelate were 12 MEMOIR OF THE edited and published under the direction of Dr. Moore. He died rector of Little Britain in London, leaving a highly respectable family, among whom was Thomas Moore, D. D., rector of North Bray, in Kent. Another of the brothers of John Moore, was Daniel Moore, a gen- tleman of large estate, who was a member of Parlia- ment for many years, and whose daughter married the celebrated Lord Chancellor Erskine. Another of the bro- thers was William Moore, of Moore Hall, Pennsylvania, who left a highly respectable family. One of the daugh- ters of this gentleman became the wife of the Rev. Dr. William Smith, Provost of the College of Philadelphia ; a preacher of great celebrity, and well known, in our eccle- siastical annals, by his able and zealous co-operation with Bishop White and others in organizing the government and settling the doctrines, and discipline, and worship of the Protestant Episcopal Church in this country. Dr. Smith was chairman of the Committee for revising and altering the Liturgy, in the first General Convention, in 178.5, con- tinued a most active and useful member of that body for several successive sessions, and was the first President of the House of Clerical and Lay Deputies, after the Bishops constituted a separate house in 1789. John Moore, a brother of William, and grandfather of the Bishop, was a wealthy and respectable merchant of New York. He was, at one time, an Alderman of the city, for many years a member of the colonial Legislature, 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. Dying in 1749 at the age of 63, he is said to have been the first person buried in Trinity Church-yard, where so many thousands have since found their last re- pose. The family vault still remains, and the title to this LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 13 resting place of the ashes of his fathers was held by- Bishop Moore at the time of his decease. John Moore married Frances Lambert; they became the happy parents of eighteen children, among whom were three pairs of twins. The descendants of Mr. Moore became connected by mar- riage with the Bayards, Hoffmans, Livingstons, Onderdonks, Baileys, Tredwells, and Rogers's, who then, as now, were ranked among the most respectable families in New York. Stephen, the seventeenth child, was the proprietor of West Point, the site of our national Military Academy. After selling this property t-y the United States, he removed to North Carolina. At the time of the invasion of the Southern States by the British troops in 1779, he com- manded a regiment of militia, and was, afterwards, taken prisoner at the battle of Camden. Being in due time ex- changed, he returned to his beautiful residence. Mount Tirzah, in North Carolina, where he died, leaving in that state a highly respectable family. The seventh of the thirteen sons of John Moore, and the one with whom our narrative is more directly concerned, was Thomas Moore, the father of the subject of the pre- sent memoir. He was born in 1722, and being sent to England for an education, received his scholastic training amidst the high advantages atForded by the discipline and instructions of Westminster School. On the completion of his course of studies, he returned to his native country, at about the age of twenty-one years, and engaged in com- mercial pursuits as a merchant in the city of New York. The troubles of the revolution coming on, brought with them a series of disasters and misfortunes, which led him to retreat to West Point, where he lived with his family in quiet retirement, (it being on what was called the neutral ground,) during the early part of the revolutionary war. a2 14 MEMOIR OF THE But at length, as we shall have occasion to state, more par- ticularly, in the sequel, the footsteps of a plundering army invaded his peaceful habitation — he and his helpless family were driven out from their own fireside — homeless and pennyless — 'the world before them, and Providence their guide !' In this destitute condition he returned to the city, where, having obtained an appointment in the Custom House, he lived in comfort until the conclusion of the war. After the restoration of peace, and the full establishment of our independence, a change of government having de- prived him of the office from which his support was derived, he retired to spend the remainder of his days with his be- loved daughter, the wife of General Huntington, in New London, Connecticut. There, under the influence of pul- monary consumption, his strength and health gradually wasted, till, supported by the consolations of Christian faith, and in the communion of the Church, he departed this life on the 19th June, 1784. In the spring of 1785 his remains were removed to New York, and deposited in the family vault, in Trinity Church-yard, by his son, the late Bishop of Virginia, then a resident of that city. Elizabeth Channing, the wife of Thomas Moore, and mother of the late bishop, was of highly respectable paren- tage. Being left an orphan at the early age of two years, she was carefully brought up in the family of her uncle, John Pintard, Esq. She was highly accomplished ; having received the most finished education, and being accustomed to mingle freely in the best society to be found in her na- tive city. In her all the polish and dignity of a lady of " the old school" appeared in combination with a most amiable disposition, remarkable soundness of judgment, firmness of purpose, and strong good sense — all adorned and sanctified by the graces of a fervent and exemplary LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 15 piety. To the religious instructions and lovely Christian example of his sainted mother, Bishop Moore often delighted to revert with tears of gratitude in his eyes and a bosom swelling with filial affection and reverence. To her early nurture and admonition of him in the ways of the Lord, he ascribed, under God, all his happiness and usefulness in this world, and his hopes of a blessed immortality in the next. He had the pleasure of ministering to her support and solace in her declining years, until she entered upon her eternal rest, at his house, on Staten Island, the 7th of December, 1805, in the 78th year of her age. It has been truly said that so far as relates to intellec- tual and moral character, " the boy is father of the man." "We regret that but few written memorials are to be found which give any information respecting the childhood of the subject of this memoir, and there are no surviving com- panions of his early years whose memory of facts will enable us to supply the deficiency. The few incidents we have been able to gather from other brief sketches of his life, from the Bishop's letters, and from the statements of his only surviving sister, will, however, serve to show that in the promise of childhood there was the earnest and seed of the virtues and excellencies which were fully developed in maturer years. While he was yet an infant in the nursery, his pious mother, who, ^ike Hannah, had devoted her son to the Lord, faithful to the engagements entered into on his be- half when he was received into the Church by Holy Bap- tism, considered him as one of the lambs of Christ's flock ; and laboured by every means to impregnate his budding character with the principles of religion and lead him to an early acquaintance with Him who said, " Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for 16 MEMOIR OF THE of such is the kingdom of heaven." The humble efforts of tiiis Christian mother, Hke those of Lois and Eunice, were not in vain. The good seed sown in her instructions was matured by her prayers and tears; and of Bishop Moore, as of Timothy, it might be said that from a child he knew those Holy Scriptures which are able to make men wise unto salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. Often did he, in advanced age, advert with sentiments of devout gratitude to the benefits derived from the lessons of maternal love ; and in the last summer of his life he was heard to say, with deep and grateful emotion, " I was a pious child." Under the hallowed influence of his mother's teaching, example and prayers, we may believe that God was not only laying the foundation of the superstructure of personal holiness and virtue in his private character, but was also, (perhaps unconsciously to the subject of it,) train- ing his faculties and affections for that work of the Gospel ministry to which the greater part of his future life was so successfully devoted. While he was yet an infant prat- tler, unable to speak intelligibly, he was in the habit of gathering his little sisters and brothers around him, and with his apron put on inversely as a substitute' for a sur- plice, " keeping church," as he called it, and imitating, as well as he could, the different parts of the services of the sanctuary. At a very early age he evinced not only a de- cided taste for elocution, but also a more than ordinary talent for public speaking. This talent and taste were often exhibited for the amusement of his mother's visiters in his happy recitations of hymns and other pieces previously committed to memory for the purpose. Who can tell but that the Holy Spirit might have imparted to his infant mind early intimations of a future call to the sacred office? Who shall say that this interesting boy when "keeping LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. ^ 17 church" with his infant congregation, or delivering pious sentiments in the presence of his seniors, may not have had impressed upon his infant mind an idea of his future occu- pation, and possessed, in embryo, the same emotions which filled his bosom when, in after life, he led the devotions of the faithful, and listening thousands hung with rapture on his lips? The writer is inclined neither to superstition nor fanaticism, but yet speaks from experience in expressing the opinion that sometimes in the days of childhood, and that, perhaps, a giddy and thoughtless one, there are vivid anticipations of future occupation in the sacred office, and strong impressions leading to an involuntary training for it, in the absence of all encouragements to it from without, which can only be accounted for by ascribing them to a mysterious influence of the Holy Spirit upon the mind in- dicative of God's purposes in reference to the future life of the individual. In the case of young Moore, there was doubtless on the part of his mother a wish to strengthen every serious im- pression, and encourage every holy desire that might be produced in his mind. Her Christian associations and habits were also adapted to produce the happiest influence upon the forming character of her son. She was one of a number of pious ladies who were in the practice of meet- ing weekly, at each other's houses in rotation, for the pur- poses of social worship and religious edification. Those meetings were often attended by some one of the clergy ; most frequently by Rev. Dr. Ogilvie, one of the min- isters of Trinity Church, who is represented to have been a man of exemplary piety and zeal, fervently devoted to the spiritual improvement of the people committed to his charge. This pious band of Christian sisters, in imita- tion of the example of the devout centurion whose "prayers 18 MEMOIR OF THE and alms went up together as a memorial before God," were accustomed, as a fitting close of their religious services, to make a contribution for some charitable object. It is pro- bable that Richard Channing was often permitted to be present in this devout circle, especially when it was assem- bled under his paternal roof: nor is it unreasonable to be- lieve that what he then witnessed of the happy influence of those social religious services, upon his mother and her fellow-worshippers, produced in his youthful mind such a strong conviction of their usefulness as led him to be their decided friend and advocate during the whole course of his protracted ministry. Vv^e know not precisely the nature of the services performed at those social meetings ; but pre- sume they very much resembled the Bible Class and Lec- ture-room services of the present day. And where is the clergyman to be found who is in the habit of meeting por- tions of his people for such social exercises, ^yho does not prize them as among the most valuable means which he can employ for advancing the interests of intelligent piety and fervent devotion in the Church of God ] The faithful Pastor will imitate the example of the " Good Shepherd," who said "suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not ;" and his official fidelity may be proved by the same test to which Peter's profession of love was subjected : " Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me 1 Feed my lambs^ Dr. Ogilvie mani- fested the true spirit of the Christian ministry in fervent love for the youth and children pertaining to his charge, and in his assiduous efforts to promote their spiritual wel- fare and lead them early into the path of life. The sub- ject of this memoir was not only a constant attendant upon the catechetical instructions of his Pastor, but, what was remarkable in one so young, was a frequent visiter at his LIFB OF BISHOP MOORE. 19 study, and found satisfaction and delight in his society. Would that we had some record of those interesting inter- views between that faithful minister of Jesus and his infant parishioner ! It would probably furnish us with some val- uable lessons as to the best mode of training the tender mind to wisdom and virtue. It might serve to show that the experienced teacher discovered in his pupil clear indi- cations of divine influence and teaching, while as yet the child himself was ignorant thereof; as Eli perceived that the Lord had called Samuel, though the infant prophet knew it not himself. There are doubtless many instances to prove that the work of the Holy Spirit upon the heart and character of an individual becomes manifest to others before it is perceptible to the subject of it : as the face of Moses shone, so that the children of Israel were dazzled by its lustre, while Moses was himself unconscious that any change had passed upon his countenance. Bishop Moore would sometimes, in advanced life, refer to his familiar and affectionate intercourse with the spiritual guide of his child- hood, with grateful acknowledgments of the benefit thence derived, and the pleasing recollection that he was, even at that early period, a recipient of the influence of Divine grace : which was evidenced by those fruits of the Spirit a love of prayer and the other duties of religion. His literary and classical education was acquired under the careful instruction of Mr. Alexander Leslie, Professor of Languages in King's (now Columbia) College, New York. We have no means of ascertaining the extent or variety of his studies in the arts and sciences : but presume that his education was as liberal as was then common to young gentlemen destined to professional life, and that his acquisitions were rapid; he having finished his preparatory course at the age of sixteen years. 20 MEMOIR OF THE About the commencement of the revolutionary war, his fat her, having abandoned commercial pursuits in the city of New York, retired with his family to the old country- seat at West Point. In that place of retirement from the dangers and excitements incident to a state of war, the subject of our memoir passed about a year and a half of his boyish days in the happy society of his brothers and sisters, often engaged in those rural occupations and sports so grateful to the taste of childhood and youth, and sur- rounded by the most sublime and lovely scenery which our country contains. The following letters to two of his chil- dren will show the vivid impression of by-gone joys upon his mind on visiting this sequestered spot after the lapse of more than half a century. LETTERS DESCRIBING A VISIT TO WEST POINT. New York, August 10th, 1833. My Dear Crissy ; — Although but a few days have elapsed since I last wrote, still as I have since that period made an excursion to the Highlands, and have visited the site of my grandfather's country seat at West Point, at which I passed eighteen months of my boyhood, I hasten to com- municate the circumstance to you ; at the same time to in- form you of a continuance of my health. Last Thursday I embarked in the steamboat, with Fanny and Mary Ann, in company with my nephew Thomas Moore, and reached West Point before 1 o'clock ; but being fatigued, 1 postponed my visit to the retreat of my father in 1775, until yesterday morning : when, attended by my daughters, Dr. Lyell and wife, Thomas Moore and several strangers, I walked to Moore's folly, as it was once called, and found the house totally gone ; but perfectly re- LIFE OF BISHOP 3I00RK. 21 collected the spot on which it once stood, and to my pleas- ing surprise, found one old English cherry tree remaining, the relic of former times. One of the gentlemen ascended the tree and took from it part of an old branch, which I have in my pocket, and to which I intend to affix a label and hang it up in my study. It was surprising to perceive the pleasure discoverable in the countenances of several gentlemen, who went with me ; and who had been informed, that I had resided on that spot fifty-seven years gone by; among whom was Professor Rodgers of William and Mary College. The walk was fatiguing, but I went and found the same road, over which I had trodden many and many a time, with a heart as gay as a lark, and a step as brisk as a deer. The associations of early life burst upon me, with great force, but when I recollected that my beloved parents, and every soul but one of all the family, beside myself, were in eternity, the pleasure I should otherwise have enjoyed was sensibly checked. Betsey Livingston was born there — and she and your father are the only remaining relics of that day either in kitchen or parlour. The inclination I had to tread on that ground, consecrated by filial recollections, the seat of so much juvenile happiness, and in which 1 partook so largely of a mother's care ani love, forced me to inspect its retired walks : and having complied with the pleadings of my heart, I have bidden it adieu ; and shall soon unite in a better retreat, with those, who once oc-cu- pied that family ground ; and whose spirits I trust are now reposing in perfect quiet in the bosom of the God they loved. Perhaps, my child, you may not be able to enter fully into your father's feelings on such a subject : unless you recur in recollection to that spot, in which you first drew the breath 23 MEMOIR OF THE of life ; and on which your dear departed mother bade an adieu to you, to me, and to the world, and ascended on angels' wings, to the arms of her divine Redeemer. May God, who is rich in mercy, prepare us all to meet our rela- tives in peace, beyond this vale of tears. When at West Point, I was visited by young Harvie J. Ellis and James Carter ; the latter of whom I saw on guard in the encampment, with a musket on his shoulder. They were all well and in good spirits and delighted to see me. Should you see their friends, they no doubt will be gratified to hear of them. Remember me in much love to all who inquire after me, and when you write, let me know how matters stand in Church and at home. With love to Sally, Eliza and house- hold, Believe me your affectionate father, Richard Chaining Moore. P. S. David has been with me two hours, and has re- turned home this moment. Mr. and Mrs. Pendleton visited me this morning — they are well, I have promised to visit them at the Fort. Let Mr. Nelson know I have seen them. All here send their love. • New York, August 21st, 1833. My Dear Daughter, — My former letters have been direct- ed to your sister Crissy, under the impression, that you as well as she, would peruse them, and with the confidence that it was a matter of no particular importance to whom addressed ; but lest you should indulge the least suspicion that you were overlooked, I now direct this to you ; and must request my dear Crissy to consider it a piece of joint property. My last letter embraced the history of my visit to West Point, and involved in it an account of the tender LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 23 recollections to which that visit gave rise. I there passed, I think, eighteen months, at a period of life when no heavy cares press on the mind, and we feel as cheerful as the face of nature appears, and as happy as the feathered songsters of the woods. Since that era I have experienced much trouble and anxiety : my parents have passed into eternity, and other severe trials have befallen me : comparing the ease I then enjoyed, and of which every object informed me, with the checkered scenes of subsequent life, it raised emotions in my bosom which I want language to express ; and in the edition I gave Crissy of the adventure, and in the perusal of which I shed many tears, my feelings were such as I cannot well describe. Should you live to be as old as your father, who this day commences his seventy- second year, you will be better qualified to judge of such things, than you can now possibly be ; and you will then recollect that what you then feel, has been experienced by those who lived before you. To-day I dine with Dr. Milnor, to-morrow with Mr. Ridgway, our former Consul in the Island of St. Croix, and on Friday with Dr. Lyell. I expect to preach on Sunday morning at St. Stephen's; and on Monday to lay the corner-stone of a new church in the city, and to deliver an address on the occasion. Your brothers David and Channing, the latter of whom has gone to visit his friend Hallam at New-London, are to be with me ; and we expect to go to Staten Island on Tuesday. On Friday it is my present purpose to start for Philadel- phia, where I shall remain a few days with my dear Ger- trude, and then bend my course to Richmond. Should anything occur to arrest me in my progress to the South, I shall apprize you of it ; so that you may not be disap- pointed on the subject of my return. Mr. Cook has re- quested me to sit for my portrait : which 1 have done three 24 MEMOIR OF THE times ; and expect to give him another sitting to-morrow, when I presume he will finish his work. It is thought a likeness, but I shall be better qualified to decide on the subject myself after to-morrow. I sincerely sympathize with my dear friend Martha Chamberlayne ; but, as I am sensible her little girl is much better provided for, than she could have been in this world, I hope she will bend with resignation to the dispensation of Providence, and remember that she will again see her, with her harp tuned to praise, and with the ability to join in anthems of joy with the triumphant host of heaven. I intend to address her on the subject, if not prevented by company, as soon as I finish this letter. Last Sunday I passed in Amboy, where I preached twice, and in the evening went to the Miss Parkers, where, with all the members of that family, at least twenty in number, I spent a devotional evening, and closed with a prayer for the blessing of heaven upon them all. It was a devotional, melting evening. I sincerely hope that you are both in good health, and with my prayers for .your health and happiness, and for the happiness of all my friends, especially my child Betsey Heath and husband and family. Believe me, my dear daughter, your friend and father, Richard Channing Moore. In contrast with the peaceful and joyous recollections re- corded in the foregoing letters, we will here relate an in- cident previously adverted to, well adapted to illustrate the barbarities inseparable from war even when under the con- duct of civilized and Christian nations. The father of the peaceful family at West Point had left home to visit a friend at a distance; and during his ab- sence, a British frigate ascended the Hudson river with a LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 25 view of capturing Fort Montgomery. General Clinton, of the British army, with the forces under his command, had previously visited the residence of the Moores, committing such acts as are common with a foraging party when inva- ding the domains of an enemy. The soldiers, however, were content with committing depredations out of doors. They robbed the garden, took possession of the poultry, and killed a cow which was feeding in the orchard ; but offered no personal violence to the members of the family, nor even attempted to invade the sanctuary of the domicil. But when the seamen landed from the frigate, they immediately entered the house, and, with ruthless violence, tore up the carpets, stripped the beds, stole the tea-spoons from the table where the family were seated at their evening meal, and without restraint carried on the work of indiscriminate pillage. One of the band of depredators, more savage than the rest, with fiendish cruelty and dastardly cowardice, pre- sented a fixed bayonet at Mrs. Moore's breast, threatening the life of an unprotected mother surrounded by an inter- esting group of weeping and helpless children ! The con- sternation of the family may easily be imagined. They fled to Mr. Charles Moore's for protection, where they re- mained till they could return with safety to their own abode. Even if we admit it to be necessary in the prose- cution of war sometimes to invade the domicil and plun- der the property of private and peaceful individuals, yet surely, the bright escutcheon of the soldier should never be tarnished with acts of cruelty and oppression to helpless women and children. In this case, the outrage yas per- petrated not upon an enemy, but a friend : (for the Moores were favourable to the royal cause,) it was the brutal act of an infuriated, unrestrained body of men, who deemed it their business and privilege to commit all sorts of violence b2 26 MEMOIR OF THE upon those whom they supposed hostile to the crown in whose service they were enlisted. General Clinton made an ample apology for the assault, severely reproved it, and caused the valuable plunder to be promptly restored to the injured family. At the time of the above outrage upon his paternal home, the subject of this memoir was in the city of New York; and as yet, perhaps, undetermined as to his future avocation in life. Under the temporary influence of a wild and romantic desire to visit other countries and see the world, (so common in youths at that age,) he made trial of a sea-faring life ; which, however, he very soon relinquished, and devoted himself to the study of medicine. His medical education was prosecuted under the direc- tion of Dr. Richard Bayley, one of the most distinguished physicians of his day. The advantages he enjoyed under the tuition of this gentleman were probably equal to any which could be commanded at that early period, — so long before medical schools or colleges were instituted, with their associated professorships, for the education of young aspi- rants in the Esculapian art. Dr. Bayley had the reputa- tion of being the most eminent surgeon in New York, and young Moore is said to have been quite a proficient in this branch of his profession. After the completion of bis stu- dies, he commenced his career as a practitioner of medi- cine in the city. But finding, probably, as most young be- ginners do, that it was difficult to maintain a rivalry with older physicians of established reputation, and more diffi- cult to obtain a support amidst the wide competition for practice in a large city, he soon removed to the eastern part of Long Island, to seek his fortune there. But, after a brief residence at his new location, without a result an- swerable to his expectations, he returned to the city, and LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 27 resumed his practice there, favoured with brighter pros- pects, and with encouraging success. At the age of twenty- two he was married to Miss Christian Jones, of New York,* who continued to be a faithful and affectionate wife to him for twelve years. She was his chief domestic comfort — soothing him amidst the toils, and rejoicing with him in the pleasures and rewards of his earlier ministry on Staten Island. She departed this life in April, 1796. It is not unfrequently the case that the fair promise of early piety is not realized and confirmed by the develop- ment of character in maturer years. The buds and blos- soms of grace put forth in childhood are often nipped and withered before manhood comes. Many a pastor has been forced to mourn over some who in the morning of life en- tered upon the Christian race, and " ran well for a season," but were afterwards " hindered," and perhaps utterly turn- ed out of their course by the adverse influence of a corrupt and tempting world. Many a parental heart has been stung to agony, and made to weep in bitterness, by the worldliness if not open viciousness, of some wayward child, upon whose opening virtues it had gazed with pleasure, and over whose future prospects fancy had spread its fair- * Dr. Moore first saw this lady in Trinity Ctiurch, and being smitten with her beauty, followed her after the congregation was dismissed, determined to form an acquaintance with her. Falling in with an old friend, he urged him to introduce him to the lady. This, however, was declined, on the ground that the gentleman himself had not the pleasure of her acquaint- ance. Still bent upon the accomplishment of his purpose, when the lady entered her father's residence, young Moore, turning to his friend, said "Do you know who lives in that house 1" The reply was, " Mr. Jones, an acquaintance of mine." " Then I insist upon it that you shall go in and give me an introduction to the family, or I shall be under the disagree- able necessity cf introducing myself." He was accordingly introduced. Personal acquaintance deepened his first impressions : and Miss J. soon yielded her heart and hand to so ardent and persevering a suitor. 28 2yiEM0IR OF THE est visions. In some melancholy instances there is an utter blighting of all the good seed of life so as to forbid the hope that it will ever bring forth fruit unto salvation. In other instances the seed is only " choked" for a season by the " tares" of worldly wealth, honours, or pleasures ; but when these are plucked up, it will spring forth vigorously, and yield fruit in perfection, " first the blade, then the ear; after that the full corn in the ear." The case of young Moore resembled the latter rather than the former of these instances. A large city, at any time, presents numerous and powerful temptations to evil, which are with difficulty resisted, even by the firmest vir- tue, when found in association with the ardent imaginations and strong passions of youth. But the state of society and the scenes and associations connected with the residence of a military force in a large city — which, in time of war, is not only a focus of excitement, but of dissipation and un- godliness also — are favourable to any thing rather than the cultivation of piety in the youthful mind. It need not sur- prise us, therefore, that in the midst of such counteracting influences, he of whom we write, found his spiritual sensi- bilities blunted, — lost, in a great degree, his devotional feel- ings, and permitted himself to be drawn into the vortex of gay and fashionable life. While a student and practitioner of medicine, there is rea- son to fear, he neglected his baptismal obligations by con- forming to the pomps and vanities of the world ; though we believe he was not chargeable with open viciousness of life, and that the religious impressions he received in child- hood were never entirely effaced.* * Since the above was written a fact has been communicated by an aged friend of the Bishop, who knew him well in early life, and confirmed by a letter from Rev. DuviJ Moore, D. D., (the Bishop's eldest son,) who had LIFE OP BISHOP MOOEE. 20 " He who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us, when we were dead in sins," often preserves us when we deserve to perish. When we become unmindful of his covenant, grieve his Spirit, and alienate ourselves from his ways, he might justly leave us to follow our own courses, and to perish in our own devices. But such is not the manner of God with men. He hath no pleasure in the death of the sinner, but is constantly inviting him to turn and live. Even when Israel had " caused him to serve with their sins, and wearied him with their iniquities," he ex- claimed, " I, even I am he that blotteth out thy transgres- sions for mine own sake ; and will not remember thy sins." He waits for the return of his prodigal child ; yearns over heard his father speak of the event with humiliation and sorrow, that com- pels me to qualify the statement in the text. However he might have been preserved from other vices, the subject of this memoir had fallen into the low and inexcusable habit of profane swearing, of which he was cured by the remonstrances and prayers of his pious wife. Not long after his marriage he returned home, about tea-time, in a state of excitement on ac- count of some outrage he had received. The servant, who was about set- ling the table, in bringing in the waiter, either from carelessness or by ac- cident, let it fall, and the contents were dashed to pieces. He gave expres- sion to his feelings in such language as shocked the pious sensibilities of Mrs. Moore to such a degree that she immediately left the room and retired to her chamber. When the tempest of his wrath had in some measure subsided, he followed her, and was distressed to find her dissolved in tears. On his inquiring why she was thus disquieted and wept 1 her reply was, that the language which she had heard from his lips was such as to dis- turb her peace, and excite her warmest sympathies for his soul. As God had declared, in the plainest terms, that He would not hold him guiltless who taketh his name in vain — she trembled for the consequences, and at the time he entered her chamber, was engaged in supplicating that grace which would convince him of his error, and lead him, as a penitent sinner, to choose that God and Saviour who was the solace of her heart, and her por. tion forever. Dr. Moore was exceedingly affected by this earnest expostu- lation from the lips of her whom he loved so sincerely ; he promised an immediate abandonment of the odious habit : and there is reason to be- lieve that this prepared the way for that gracious change of heart and life which he soon afterwards experienced. 30 MEMOIR OF THE him with all the tenderness of divine compassion ; and is ever ready to magnify the riches of grace in bringing him to repentance and salvation. About the year 1785 the spiritual slumber into which Dr. Moore had fallen was dis- turbed ; his mind was deeply exercised upon the subject of religion ; and the pious feelings, desires, resolutions and af- fections of his earlier life were reproduced in more than their original strength and energy. The following striking incident in relation to this period of his religious history, is the most important fact which we have been able to gather from the enfeebled recollections of his only surviving sister. Being one day in a barber's shop, for the purpose of having his hair dressed according to the fashion of the time, he carelessly opened a Bible which was lying upon a table, and the first passage upon which his eyes rested was the searching interrogatory which the Lord Jesus addressed to that prince of persecutors who became afterwards the prince of Apostles : " Saul, Saul, WHY PERSEcuTEST THOU ME?" The circumstauce was appa- rently a trifling and accidental one. But it startled him. It appeared to him, doubtless, as a message from God, though it had come at an unexpected time, and under un- wonted circumstances. An impression was, we may well believe, thus produced upon his mind which he could not readily shake off. An arrow of conviction had pierced his heart which could be extracted only by the hand of par- doning mercy. Let him go where he would : and whether engaged in the cares of professional business, or whirling in thp giddy circles of worldly pleasure, the awful appeal of his neglected and injured Master would be still ringing in his ears : " Why perseciitest thou me .'?" It would inter- rupt his enjoyments by day and disturb his slumbers by night; so that he could find neither rest nor peace, till. LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 31 bowing in the spirit of penitence and submission at the foot of the cross, he inquired, like the subdued and converted Apostle, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do V We have no further facts or materials v^^hich would enable us to gratify the curiosity of the reader by a more particular narrative of this work of grace in the heart of Dr. Moore. He has left no written record of his experience at this interesting epoch of his life, nor have we the means of ascertaining the precise time when he first entered into full communion with the body of Christ's faithful people by a reception of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. But that a change did take place in his religious feelings and character — a change in the views, desires and aflfections of his mind — and in the purposes and habits of his life — a change so great and radical as to be properly styled a con- version, or new creation, the whole course of his future « history leaves no room for the shadow of a doubt. The fruits of the Spirit, so clearly manifested in his temper and conversation, afforded the best evidence of a renovated heart. And the frequency and earnestness with which he enforced the indispensable necessity of conversion, gave in- dications, sure and convincing, that the doctrine of Scrip- ture on this point had been confirmed to him by his own personal experience. From the period above named we must look upon the subject of this sketch as standing before us in a new atti- tude, bearing a new character, and sustaining a nearer and more sacred relation to the Church of God. He has entered upon a new life : — a life of faith in the Son of God. He is animated by new principles ; even those of the " man in Christ," the adopted child of God. He is devoted to new objects : even the salvation of men, and the glory of his Lord and Saviour. Henceforth, we are to behold him "» 32 MEMOIR OF THE LIFE OF BISHOP BIOOEE. as one of the Lord's redeemed, — living, not unto himself, but unto him who died for him and rose again. From this period we contemplate him as one who feels that he is not his own, but has been bought with a price; and therefore strives to glorify God in his body and spirit which are his. And, if we are not mistaken in the estimate formed of his character from an intimate acquaintance with it for many years, seldom has it fallen to the lot of poor frail humanity to afford a lovelier display of gentleness and meekness, of ten- derness and affection, of devotion and charity, of simplicity of purpose and energy of action, of fervent zeal and con- scientious fidelity in the discharge of professional service and the duties of the social relations, than was exhibited, through the sanctifying influence of divine grace, in the long life by which our departed father was permitted to glorify God. ■m CHAPTER II. From 1787 to 1809. Immediate change of purpose as to his profession after conversion; Re- views his classical studies. Enters upon preparation for Holy Orders. Ordained Deacon. His Sermon on the Fiftieth Anniversary of his Ordi- nation. His ministry at Rye. Intimacy with John Jay. His removal to St. Andrew's Church, Staten Island. Practises medicine and teaches a school to aid in the support of his family. Letters to his children. Death of his wife, and letters occasioned thereby. His second marriage. His first attempt at extempore preaching, and subsequent success in it. Anec- dote illustrative of his fidelity in pastoral duty;— another, showing his humanity. Remarkable revival of religion. The character and success of bis ministry on Staten Island. After the memorable change in his religious character and views, referred to in the concluding part of the preced- ing chapter, Dr. Moore not only withdrew from all the vain pleasures and corrupting amusements of the world, but felt less interest in its lawful occupations, and soon resolved to relinquish the secular profession in which he was then suc- cessfully engaged. To employ the resources of skill, science, and a cultivated intellect, under the guidance of a tender and sensitive heart, in soothing the pains and healing the maladies to which the human body is liable, may properly )e esteemed a highly benevolent occupation, involving the lacrifice of much personal comfort, and the exercise of much self-denial for the benefit of others. There is nothing in it, so far as we know, incompatible with that devotion to God required by the spirit of the sacred office. The minister of the Gospel, whether the field of his labour be in a Chris- tian or Heathen land, may, (if it may be done without in- i c 34 MEMOIR OP THE fringing upon the duties of his loftier vocation,) as the subject of this memoir did for a season, employ his know- ledge of medicine in the healing of the body, in subordina- tion to his higher labours for the salvation of the soul. In a Christian country, except under very peculiar circum- stances, the combination of the two offices would be inex- pedient and improper ; but the opinion entertained by many that it would enhance the usefulness of missionaries in un- enlightened heathen nations, is entitled to consideration. St. Luke was probably none the less distinguished for love to the Master, and fidelity in his service — and none the less qualified for usefulness as an Evangelist because he bore the appellation of" the beloved physician." Far be it from us, however, to place the high office of an ambassador of Christ upon a level with any secular pro- fession, however useful and benevolent it may be, or to countenance the opinion that a minister of God may engage in the duties of any other calling as a means of support, or to increase his reputation, or from any other motive than that of rendering it subservient to his holy calling, by open- ing a readier way of access for the Gospel and giving increased efficiency to his labours for the salvation of souls. We believe that a call to the ministry involves a separa- tion of the individual so called from all secular pursuits and occupations; the relinquishment of all strong regard to pecuniary emolument and worldly distinction ; and the con- secration of the whole man to the work of the Gospel and^ the glory of God. Such, we are happy to say, was the view entertained by the subject of this memoir. Soon after his conversion, he resolved to devote himself fully to the service of God and his Church. His heart, renewed by divine grace, and animated by the love of Christ and of souls, could no longer be content with the occupations of a ' LIFE or BISHOP MOORE. 35 secular employment, however honourable ; could no longer be restrained within the limits of a worldly profession, how- ever benevolent; but yearned with all the tenderness of a new-born compassion over the wide-spread miseries of our fallen race, and panted with an unconquerable desire to proclaim to his fellow men that precious Gospel which was the source of his own hope and consolation. His decision was speedily formed ; and there is no ground for questioning the purity of the motives which led to it. On the one hand the avenue to wealth and fame was opened before him. He was respectably established in an honour- able profession ; his already large practice was constantly increasing; his patrons were numerous and liberal; and there was every prospect that perseverance in his secular pursuit would be crowned with affluence and professional reputation — prizes which have strong attractions for the youthful heart. On the other hand, the clerical office had no induce- ments to offer but such as would be repulsive and distaste- ful to a worldly or ambitious mind. The Church, as the established religion of an oppressive government, shared in the odium attached to the yoke which had just been thrown off She was made answerable, in some degree, for the political heresies which were repudiated at the revolution. The fact that Washington, and Jay, and Hamilton, and other leaders in the contest for independence, were mem- bers of her communion, could not disabuse the minds of the public, and free them from the false impression that her influence was favourable to monarchy, and adverse to free- dom. They looked not to her spiritual character, as a " kingdom not of this world," but to her accidental cha- racter, as a creature of the state, having a lordly hierarchy allied to sovereignty, and incompatible with the simplicity t 36 ME3I0IR OF THE and equality of a free republic. They viewed not the Church of Christ, as it really is, a divinely-instituted and divinely-governed society, which, though planted in all na- tions, is subject to none; which gives authority and sanc- tion to Jaw, and at the same time affords security and pro- tection to individuals in life, and liberty, and fortune ; which imparts vigour to the arm of righteous government, and at the same time maintains and vindicates the rights of the governed; which bears equal testimony against the usur- pations of tyranny, and the disorders of licentiousness ; which, while it interferes not with the civil regulations of earthly powers, aims to spread over all the hallowed re- straints of the divine law, and bring them under subjec- tion to righteousness and virtue. Even to this day, notwithstanding the striking analogy which exists between our ecclesiastical organization and that of the political government of our country, and the full demonstration that has been alforded, in the more than half century which has now elapsed, that the Church operates harmoniously with the state, though perfectly in- dependent of it; and also exerts a conservative influence upon our republican institutions; yet even now, men are to be found whose interest or policy it is to denounce the Church as hostile to freedom, and monarchical in its tenden- cies. But soon after the revolution this false view was much more common than at the present time. The ma- jority of the Episcopal clergy had deserted their flocks from attachment to the cause of the crown ; and the few scat- tered parishes, greatly enfeebled and impoverished by the vicissitudes of war, were reduced to a state of deep depres- sion, bordering upon extinction. Before the revolution, the support of the clergy had been chiefly derived from the mother country ; but now their only dependence was the IIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 37 voluntary contributions of their flocks, few in number, ex- hausted in finances, dispirited by opposition. Even the incumbents of the city churches could expect nothing more than food and raiment; while those who undertook to re- suscitate the country parishes, had no prospect before them but self-denial and poverty. It was under these discouraging circumstances that Dr. Moore resolved to devote himself to the ministry. Had he consulted his own love of ease and honour, he might have shrunk back appalled from the prospect before him. Had he taken the advice of his worldly friends, they might have protested against his giving himself to the service of deserted and impoverished altars. But he " conferred not with flesh and blood" in deciding a point of duty between himself and his Maker. He " trusted that he was inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost to take upon him the office and work of the ministry." Under the solemn conviction of this truth he would exclaim, " Wo is unto me if I preach not the Gospel !" Constrained by the love of Christ — feeling that he was not his own, but bought with a price, and must therefore glorify God in his body and spirit, which were his — poverty, persecution, shame would have no terrors for his mind: but he would say, ''None of these things move me : neither count I my life dear unto myself, that I may finish my course with joy, and the ministry I have re- ceived of the Lord Jesus, to testify the Gospel of the grace of God." No sooner had he, under the influence of such pure and elevated sentiments, determined upon his course, than he entered heartily upon the work of preparation for the sacred ministry. He acted not under the influence of that fanatical impulse which leads many to believe that " igno- rance is the mother of devotion;" that God is most glorified 38 HEMOIB OF THE by sanctifiying dulness to his service, that they can most successfully preach the Gospel who are most unskilled in the wisdom which man teacheth, and have the least' amount of human literature ; and who are not willing even to admit that God may consecrate human learning to sub- serve the interests of religion — as he did the gold and silver brought from heathen countries to be ornaments of the Temple at Jerusalem. No. Dr. Moore did not " rush in where angels dare not tread," without that preparatory training and study which, by the Divine blessing, would make him " a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth." His first step was carefully to revise his classical studies under his former tutor Mr. Alexander Leslie. We know not under whose direc- tion he pursued his theological studies, but presume that he availed himself of the best facilities which the clergy of New York could afford at that day. Having completed his preparatory course as a candidate for orders, he was ordained Deacon in July, 1787, by the Right Rev. Samuel Provoost, D. D., who had been conse- crated Bishop for the diocese of New York, in company with Bishop White, for Pennsylvania, on 4th of February preceding, by the Archbishop of Canterbury. This was the first ordination which ever took place in the diocese of New York. Its little band of six clergymen had just wel- comed their first Bishop, whose consecration, in company with Dr. White, and that of Dr. Seabury, obtained a few years before from the non-juring Bishops of Scotland, gave to the American Church the canonical. number of Bishops required for an Episcopal College, and, by securing to her the Apostolical succession, combining two independent lines of descent, furnished her with the means of perpetuity and extension, while at the same time it rendered her in- SJ LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 39 dependent of all foreign Churches for ordination, as she had previously become free from their jurisdiction and con- trol. At this period the organization of our ecclesiastical comnnunion became perfect and complete. Now, and not before, the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States became an integral member of the mystical body of Christ — an independent branch of the Holy Catholic Church. Dr. Moore's ordination as Deacon took place in St. George's Chapel, (now Church,) in the city of New York. In that sacred edifice he had been devoted to God in holy baptism, there he had renewed his baptismal vow in the holy rite of confirmation, there he had knelt to receive for the first time the consecrated symbols of the body and blood of Jesus, and now, he was permitted before the same altar to offer the higher vows of ministerial dedication. These sacred and interesting associations made a deep impression upon his mind, which seemed to become more vivid and powerful as he advanced in age. Towards the close of life he was in the habit of making an annual visit to the scenes of his youthful residence ; and seldom did he do so without officiating in St. George's. He loved the spot. He delighted within its hallowed walls — dear to him by so many precious recollections ! — to unite his devotions with those of the worshipping assembly, and to proclaim to dying men the message of eternal life. In the year 1837 hq preached in that Church on the occasion of completing the fiftieth year of his ministerial life. It was an occasion that called forth all th^enderness and pathos for which he was so distinguished, and gave full play to the warm affections of his devoted and grateful heart. In his annual visits he often touched upon the tender reminiscences of earlierdays with such power as to stir up the souls of his auditors, and melt them into sympathy and tears. 40 MEMOIR OF THK The last occasion on which he officiated in St. George's was Sunday, October 3rd, 1841. By the kindness of my beloved friend and brother, the rector of that Church, I am enabled to present a touching account of a most interest- ing incident of the day as related in a sermon preached by him in St. Andrew's Church, Staten Island, occasioned by the decease of his venerated friend. " In closing this notice of our lamented friend, may I be allowed to notice a slight, but affecting, incident of recent occurrence. " From our long intimacy and friendship it has always been my desire on his visits to New York to obtain for my people the privilege of hearing his pleasing and pathetic annunciations of heavenly truth. "During the session of the late General Convention I sought and obtained this favour at his hands. It was the solemn occasion of our monthly communion, and his discourse (from the text, ' It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all accepta- tion that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners,') delivered almost with the same command of voice, and earnest and afTecting interest of manner, that characterized his earlier years, was not only delightfully in consonance with the views that have been presented of the general character of his pulpit communications, but peculiarly affecting and impressive by its adaptedness to the duties of the day. "While the sacred elements were in the course of distribu- tion, he asked of me a few moments' suspension ; and taking his place in the desk, he stated to the^ongregation in a few emphatic sentences the peculiar feelings of his mind at that interesting moment. ' Here,' said the venerable speaker, ' in this very Church I was baptized ; here I re- newed my baptismal vows in the rite of confirmation. Here I first knelt to receive the emblems of the dying love LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 41 of my Redeemer ; here I was ordained a deacon, and here I was advanced to the order of the priesthood. Meeting with you on this solemn occasion, and standing in this con- secrated place, these reminiscences of some of the most in- teresting incidents of my life, at my present advanced age, and with little expectation of ever again being with you, are to me so deeply affecting that I thought you would excuse a few moments' interruption of the service, that I might be allowed, with heartfelt gratitude to my heavenly Father, thus briefly to advert to them.' " Little more was added ; but you may easily imagine the effect of such a communication, brief as it was, delivered at such a time, and in such a manner, and by such a man. There were few dry eyes in the congregation ; and it was well calculated to deepen the impression of his excellent discourse, and the sacred service by which it was followed. " To me it is a grateful reflection that the house of God, which has been the place of my humble ministrations for the last quarter of a century, had been the scene of my* aged friend's first dedication to God, then of the confirma- tion of his vows, and his first communion, and afterwards of his investiture, in two of its grades, with his ministerial com- mission. " But our venerable father and friend is gone. Never again in this world shall we hear that melodious voice, which, even on the verge of death, lost not its sweetness; never again behold that countenance of calm serenity, which beamed with affection on all around him; that * hoary head,' which to him was a crown d^f^lory. being found in the way of righteousness ; that venerable form clothed in its plain and modest attire, so well befitting his age and station. He is gone ! Death, the mighty destroyer, has done his work. But his shaft, though sudden, found him 42 MEMOIR OF THE not unprepared ; and that goodness and mercy, which had followed hinni all his days, permitted him an easy passage into his eternal rest. If the depressing character of his disease prevented his saying much, he was privileged to say enough to satisfy all around him that he was resigned to the will of God, and ready for the summons. " It is not so much on the bed of death, where the pros- tration of the body bears down all the mind's activities, that we would in general seek our strongest evidences of a spiritual state. It is to the tenor of the life we resort, as the surest and the safest test ; and to that we may confi- dently appeal for a well-grounded assurance that our dear departed father is now resting in the bosom of his Father and his God." Dr. Moore was subjected to but a brief trial in the dia- conate ; and we are not informed of the special field of his labours while he held the lowest order of the ministry. But having been admitted to priest's orders in September, 1787, 'he was immediately appointed to the pastoral charge of Grace Church, in Rye, Westchester county, in the diocese of New York. For his services in this small and feeble parish he received a salary of three hundred dollars per annum and his fuel. Out of this stinted stipend he was obliged to pay thirty dollars for house rent. But notwith- standing his limited income, which would afford him the means of procuring but few of the comforts and none of the luxuries of life, he has been heard to say, that he en- joyed much peace and happiness in this his earliest paro- chial connexion. His fidelity and zeal^ the discharge of ministerial duty won the respect, confidence and aflfection of his flock. He there secured the attachment of some warm and valuable friends; and especially that of the Hon. John Jay, who to the highest qualities of a jurist, LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 43 civilian and statesman, added the graces of a devout and exemplary follower of Christ : who amidst all the tempta- tions of diplomacy and politics, maintained a conscience void of offence, because actuated by religious principles ; who in the whole of his brilliant public career never per- formed an act which could sully his reputation, or bring dis- grace upon his holy profession ; and who in the reception of all the high honours with which his services were rewarded by a grateful country, was ready to lay them all at the foot of the cross, and counted them as nothing and less than nothing in comparison with God's favour which is life, and his loving-kindness which is better than life. This great and good man, who was a vestryman of the parish while Dr. Moore was rector at Rye, cherished ever afterwards a sincere friendship for him, which was interrupted only by death. And any minister of the Gospel might consider him- self honoured in having enjoyed for many years the confi- dence and affection of such a man as John Jay. The ministry of the youthful rector in his first parish was, as we have reason to believe, not only acceptable but useful. " The edifice in which the congregation at Rye now worship, is a monument of his zeal, and a part of the first fruits of his labours in promoting the temporal as well as spiritual welfare of the Church, which he so long and ^ truly loved : it was by his exertions that the money was raised with which this church was built."* If we had access to the register of that parish, or if we could inquire of any of the surviving attendants upon his services there, we might probably be able to state facts which would show that his labours were not without their appropriate * Dr. Hawks. 44 MEMOIR OF THE results in the edification of that spiritual temple, formed of lively stones, which God animates by his Spirit : but in the absence of such information, the success of his subsequent labours affords ample ground for the conviction that some will be gems in his crown of rejoicing who were seals of his earliest ministry. At the close of a ministry of about two years at Rye, Dr. Moore was called to decide upon a change of residence by an invitation to take charge of St. Andrew's parish, Staten Island. To prevent those heart-burnings and misunder- standings which are so apt to arise from an unexpected sundering of parochial ties. Dr. Moore adopted a prudential course worthy of imitation by all clergymen under similar circumstances. He summoned his vestry together, communi- cated to them the call he had received, and solicited their friendly advice as to the decision which it would be proper for him to make in the premises. The confidence thus re- posed in the vestry was well adapted to disarm prejudice, and to shield him from reproach. His friend Jay was the organ of communicating the result of their deliberations ; which was, that, although the vestry and the parishioners would deeply regret the loss of his valuable services ; yet, as his friends, they could not with propriety object to a re- moval by which, in all probability, the comfort of his family and his ministerial usefulness would be greatly enhanced. He was not a stranger to the inhabitants of Staten Island. On the contrary, he was well known to many of them, having, while a student of theology, practised medicine there for a short time. During that period he officiated on one occasion, as a lay reader in the Church at Richmond, and a very favourable impression was produced by the fervent and animated manner in which he performed the services of the Church. The first sermon he preached on LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. ' 45 the Island was occasioned by the decease of a daughter ot the Rev. Mr. Rowland, rector of the parish. This discourse was greatly admired, and a vacancy occurring in the rector- ship soon after, he was immediately selected as the suc- cessor. By the prudent step above narrated he was enabled, without alienating in any degree the confidence and affection of his former flock, to accept this call ; and he accordingly entered upon his new charge in October, 1789. The beautiful and romantic island, which was the scene of his ministerial labours for so many years, situated at the mouth of the harbour of New York, is about fifteen miles in length and about ten miles in breadth, and is one of the most lovely and attractive places of residence that can be found in the vicinity of that emporium of our country. At the time of Dr. Moore's removal to it the whole island was comprised in the parish entrusted to his charge. He was then in the prime and vigour of life, and the field was ad- mirably adapted to give full scope to the ardent zeal and untiring energy which in him were consecrated to the work of the Gospel. Most assiduously did he cultivate that field for more than twenty years ; and by the divine blessing upon his faithful labours much fruit was produced in the salva- tion of souls, the extension of the church, and the advance- ment of the glory of God. At the present time the parish of St. Andrew's, Staten Island, is one of the wealthiest, and aflfords one of the largest ecclesiastical livings to be found in the Union. But fifty-three years ago its faithful and indefatigable rector, by reason of the smallness of the salary, felt, in common with the majority of his clerical brethren then and since, the " res angusix domiy^ to such an extent as to be compelled to resort to different expedients for making such an addi- D 46 MEMOIR OF THE tion to his slender stipend as would enable him to meet the wants of his growing family. At one time he practised medicine in connexion with his ministerial duties : but the frequent demands for his medical services so materially in- terfered with his clerical labours, that he was soon com- pelled to relinquish the practice. For about seven years, in compliance with an invitation from the vestry of the church in Perth Amboy, New Jersey, he officiated once a fortnight in that parish. At the close of that period, in 1800, the chapel was built on the north side of Staten Island, and to the advancement of religion at that point, he subsequently devoted a portion of his time and labours. In the year 1793 he commenced a school which he con- tinued to instruct until 1802. The secular employments he engaged in, innocent as they were in themselves, and benevolent in their influence, were of course unsuited to the taste of one who desired to " wait on the Lord without distraction," and to be wholly given up to the work of saving souls in the ministry of the Gospel : and we may be sure that nothing would have reconciled him even to a tem- porary engagement in them, but the necessity of thus pro- viding for the comfort of those beloved ones whom Provi- dence had made dependent on him for their support. In few men have the feelings of paternal interest and affection been so strong and vivid as they were in the heart of Dr. Moore. His love for his children began with their birth, and suffered no diminution after they had reached the years of maturity. The same deep interest in their welfare, which marked his character as the parent of a few infant children, — still glowed in the bosom of the hoary^ headed patriarch, who could look around upon his numer- ous family settled in life as heads of their respective house- holds : and the current of affection which came in warm LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 47 and gushing streams from the heart, descended in its free flowings to his children's children. We have seen some of his letters to his children, written about the time of which we now speak, which afford beautiful illustrations of this lovely trait in his character, and show the tender workings of a heart ever yearning for the temporal and spiritual welfare of his offspring. The following specimens of his domestic correspondence, addressed to two of his daughters, who were spending some time with their aunt, Mrs. Davis, at Stratford, Connecticut, will be gratifying to the reader. Glebe, Staten Island, June 29, 1802. Your acceptable favour, my dear Crissy, came duly to hand, and afforded me that pleasure which your filial at- tentions have ever produced in my mind. A variety of duties have prevented me from attending to your commu- nications as immediately as I could have wished, but my silence, I trust, has not been misconstrued by my daughter into a forgetfulness of parental obligation. My children share largely in my regard, and, I hope, by their virtuous behaviour, will prove a source of great happiness to their fond father. There is not an hour in which you are not the subject of my thoughts! Oh, let me beseech you both, to listen to the counsel and advice of your dear aunt, and to profit from her maternal admonitions. She is close- ly connected to you, and, I am sensible, will perform, with cheerfulness, every duty attached to that connexion ; re- member how much my peace and comfort is dependent upon your conduct. My children have the happiness of their father at command, and it rests with them to make my life a scene of comfort, or to involve me in inexpressi- 48 MEMOIR OF THE ble distres?. Behave well, and no exertions shall be want- ing, within the reach of my abilities, to render you happy. I have been labouring bard for years to procure you some little support, in case it should please God to wrest me from your embrace; and you shall never want that aid whether I am spared or taken away, which it is in my power to confer upon you. I mention this circumstance in order to establish in your minds that claim which I have to your regard, and to show you that you are bound in justice, as well as duty, to contribute to my happiness. Keep the example of your amiable mother in view, and endeavour to imitate her virtues. Tread in her steps, and you will secure to yourselves the approbation of your fellow mor- tals, and the unspeakable pleasures of a quiet mind ! Neg- lect not the performance of those duties which you owe to your Creator and Redeemer. Let your prayers be regu- larly offered up to the throne of divine grace, and show forth the praises of your God "not only with your lips, but in your lives." Be attentive to your aged grandfather, do every thing that will contribute to his comfort, and nothing that will give him the least pain ; live in love and unity with your dear cousins, and be obedient to your aunt. I hope soon to hear from you both, and to find your letters cor- rect, and well written. Perhaps I shall see you next month. Present my best regards to your grandpapa, your aunt, and cousins, and believe me, my dear girls, with the since- rest regard, Your friend and father, Richard Channing Moore. P. S. Your mamma and brother send their love and re- spects to you, and to sister Davis' family. Give my bro- therly regards to Mr. Baldwin, to whom I beg you to be LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 49 respectful. I hope that you devote a part of every day to the improvement of your minds. Any assistance that you may require with respect to dress or pocket money, your aunt will be pleased to supply you with, and I will repay her at our first interview. My Dear Children, — Before I parted with you at Strat- ford, we had entered into an arrangement of an epistolary nature : and you both promised that 1 should hear from you once in a fortnight : but notwithstanding your firm as- surances, upwards of two months have elapsed, and only two letters have reached the island. If you were ignorant of those numerous duties in which I am involved, I should think that my daughters stood upon ceremony with their father; but as you are both sensible how little leisure time I possess, I cannot allow the thought a place in my bosom. The /act must be, that each of you have written at least half a dozen letters, but through the neglect of the post- master, they have failed in obtaining their destination ; this being the case, my children have performed their duty, and it would be cruel in me to attach the least blame to either of them. I would advise you, however, to speak to the post-master, in order that he may take proper mea- sures to prevent a similar disappointment. Your dear brother passed the holidays with us. He enjoys good health, and appears to be pleased with his studies. His behaviour secures to him the good opinion of all my friends, and num- bers have expressed the warmest interest in his advance- ment. Unless death should deprive me of his society, I feel a high assurance that he will prove a source of very con- siderable comfort to me. Virtue and discretion form our road to happiness: the youth who is attentive to their impressive dictates, will always preserve his own mind in d2 50 MEMOIR OF THE serenity, and obtain also the approbation of God, and of his fellow-mortals. Young people sometimes imagine that the precepts of their parents are too strict, to merit their attention and observation ; but were they acquainted with the world, and could they see the difficulties which lay before them, they would acknowledge the propriety of ad- monition, and listen to the dictates of experience. Pa- rents and/rie7ids, in affording instruction to those commit- ted to their charge, can have but 07ie motive, and that is the benevolent wish to see their children excel in the prac- tice of every laudable virtue. The vivacity of youth re- quires a check to keep it within the bounds of prudence. Children should, therefore, submit to direction, and instead of being displeased with admonition, they should be grate- ful to those who mercifully bestow it upon them. You are at present under the maternal care of an aunt who loves you ; the affection which she entertained for your dearest mother, she has fixed upon you. She views you both as the representatives of a beloved sister, and her heart beats with tenderness for you. Study, therefore, my dear daughters, study, I beseech you, to make her happy ; attend to her requests, and let her see that you value her instructions, by paying an implicit obedience to what she says. My happiness is suspended upon the thread of my children ; if they behave well it is all that I desire. Provi- dence has blessed me with a decent competency ; my only object, therefore, in this world is to see them amiable, and I shall be as comfortable as human nature will admit of. It is by our behaviour in this life, that our happiness in the next will be proportioned. If we live agreeably to God's word, eternal joys await us beyond the grave ; if we are sinful and disobedient, ruin unceasing stares us in the face. Endeavour, then, to conduct yourselves in such a manner as LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 51 to secure the smiles of your heavenly Father. Remember with gratitude the mercy and compassion of your Re- deemer; and show forth his praise, not only with your lips, but in your lives. How pleasing is the thought of meeting our departed friends in heaven ; of seeing those with whom we have lived in love ; and of being established in the possession of endless and eternal bliss ! Yes, my dear daughters, if we are not wanting to ourselves, we shall meet in glory, and enjoy with our God a state of uninter- rupted happiness. Sorrow and sighing in heaven find no admission — our harps of praise and gratitude will be ever strung, and pure unsullied comfort fill and pervade our bosoms ! Your mother, praised be God, is already there ; her evidences were as clear as the sun, and her faith in the promises of God, irnmoveable ! Prepare to follow her. As a minister of the Gospel, I beseech you to keep your lamps lit, and as b. father I pray you to tread in the path of duty and of holiness. Your friend and father, Richard Channing Moore. His first wife, whose peaceful and triumphant death is alluded to in the preceding letter, was the mother of the eldest son, David Moore, and of two daughters. Chris- tian and Eliza. On the 23rd of March, in the year 1797, he was married to Miss Sarah Messareau, of Staten Is- land, who, at her decease, which occurred in August, 1824, after their removal to Virginia, left six children as the pledges of their mutual affection : four of whom were daughters; Gertrude, Sarah, Frances, and Mary Ann: and two sons ; Van Rensalaer, and Richard Channing. Both the wives of the late Bishop were not only ladies of dis- tinguished piety and virtue, but remarkable for great per- 52 MEMOIR OF THE sonal beauty ; and his nine children still survive him. The following letters exhibit the state of the Bishop's feelings on the demise of his second wife. LETTER ON THE DEATH OF MRS. MOORE, TO REV. MR. NORRIS. Richmond, August 17, 1824. My Beloved Son, — Your letter of sympathy and condo- lence reached me in due time, and from the expressions of tenderness which mark its pages, you have furnished me with another, and an acceptable evidence of your regard. I had formed the idea when a young man, that such a be- reavement in advanced life, would be attended with less distres sthan I have found it to be. I had concluded that as we advanced in years our feelings became less acute, consequently the pungency of grief less severe ; but expe- rience has taught me a different lesson, and convinced me that as long as we live we have much to learn. In early life our spirits are so buoyant, that we are enabled to view the brightest part of every scene ; and from the hope of better days to come, our afflictions are divested of that edge, which prostrates in the dust the expectations and promises of age. In advanced life we become more at- tached to home, and although from principle, as well as inclination, we occasionally mingle with the world, still home is always uppermost in our minds, and furnishes us v^ith the most delight. To have our domestic retreat stripped of its enjoyments; to look, and look in vain, for those with whom we have been associated for many years, constitute considerations of a character so formidable and impressive, that nothing less than experience can present to our view the dreari- ness of the picture. Afflicting, however, as these events are, the Almighty, I believe most firmly, intends them for LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 53 our good. Every tie that he is pleased to sever, serves to break our hold upon this transitory world ; every connex- ion which he takes from our embrace, provided those con- nexions are prepared for death, he takes to himself, and by assuring us that our friends are living in the enjoyment of happiness in his presence, heaven is brought more fully to our view. The transition which we must soon experience, appears to the believer as the transition from one apart- ment of his father's mansion to another — from an abode in which sickness and sorrow dwell, to that abode in heaven where sorrow and sighing find no admission, and where our departed friends will bid us the most sincere and joyful welcome. To murmur at the dispensation of Providence I feel no temptation. The Lord has been so good to me, my dear son, that I should be worse than ungrateful, were I to dispute his love. I kiss the hand which has dealt this last blow, and am resigned to His will. Dr. Wilmer has no doubt related to you the calmness and composure with which my dear departed wife was blessed. She was sensible to the last moment. Her mind was serene and unclouded. Her hopes were bright and encouraging. Her last words to me were spoken in reply to a quotation I made to her from the 23d Psalm : " Though I walk through the valley and shadow of death, I will fear no evil." She turned to me, and with a smile which pro- claimed the presence of the God she loved, she said, " There is no evil there." May we die the death of the righteous, and may our last end be as tranquil as was her's ! With love to all my friends in Alexandria, Believe me your affectionate father in Christ, Richard Chanmng JVIoore. 54 MEMOIR OF THE TO HIS SON UPON THE SAME SUBJECT. August Ilth, 1824, My Dear Son, — The long indisposition of your dear mo- ther has been brought to a termination ; and she has bid an adieu to all her ailments, and entered into the joy of her Lord. The tranquillity and composure with which she met her dissolution, forms another evidence to the many I have heard of the power of a saving faith, and of that be- lief in the promises of God which inspires the soul with confidence and the mind with perfect assurance in his word. To the inquiries I repeatedly made of her relative to the state of her mind, she uniformly assured me that she had not a doubt of her acceptance with God, and that her prospects were perfectly clear. When I called her attention to the declaration of the Psalmist — " Though I walk through the valley and shadow of death, I will fear no evil," she looked at me with an eye beaming with life, and a countenance clothed with a heavenly smile, and then said, " There is no evil there." Her understanding to the last moment was undisturbed ; and I do not believe that her reason left her until the breath left her body. She placed, a few minutes before her death, her hands upon her L>reast ; and from the motion of her lips, it was evident that she was engaged in prayer; after which she raised her eyes to heaven, and exclaimed, '' Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly !" She died without the movement of a finger. In a conversation she held with me the morning preceding her dissolution, her children formed the objects of her solicitude ; and she requested me to press religion upon their consciences. Her funeral was attended with every mark of respect ; and Dr. Wilmer, who had come upon a visit to me, preached upon the occasion the day LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 55 following, which was Sunday, the 8th inst., from these words — " Watchman, what of the night ?" Her remains are interred in my church-yard — the first burial which has taken place within that solemn enclosure. Thus, my dear son, am I left alone in my old age. God has blessed me with a promising family of affectionate children, to whom I look up with confidence for every return of duti- ful attention. They have been the subjects of my prayers. They have cost me many a pang when I have seen them in distress. They have enjoyed my love without inter- mission ; and I cannot doubt for a moment their disposition to make me those returns to which my conduct to them gives me the most legitimate claim. Your affectionate father, Richard Channing Moore. Soon after Dr. Moore's settlement on Staten Island a circumstance took place which exerted an important in- fluence upon his whole future ministry, adding greatly to its acceptableness and etficiency : I mean one by which he was driven, without any such purpose of his own, to adopt the habit of extemporaneous speaking. It was what he had never attempted while at Rye; and had never thought of doing so, because it was not customary with the clergy of the Church at that day. But he seems to have been drawn into it against his will. We here recite the facts, learned from his own lips, as an addition to the many in- stances on record in which God has employed strange and apparently trifling incidents as means of accomplishing most important results. Being at the house of one of his parish- ioners, where he had been invited to spend the evening, after tea several of the neighbours came in ; and soon, very much to his surprise, the master of the house placed a stand 56 MEMOIR OF THE with a Bible on it before him, at the same time requesting that he would give them a word of exhortation. He found himself placed in a most embarrassing position. It seemed very much like the scene exhibited at the house of Corne- lius, when the devout Centurion, having called together his near kinsmen and friends, said to Peter, " Now, therefore, we are all here present before God, to hear all things that are commanded thee of God." What could be done ? He was indeed the ambassador of God, charged with a message of peace and reconciliation to man ; but he . had never pre- sumed to deliver the heavenly message except in the form of a written communication. But would it do for him to dishonour his commission in the view of the people, by pleading inability to discharge it? Could he answer it to God, if he were to refuse the word of pious instruction thus solicited of him by a waiting assembly ? No ! Necessity was laid upon him. And he felt that he could not, without disgrace or guilt, evade the duty thus strangely and unex- pectedly demanded of him. He might be filled with trem- bling and fear at the prospect of failure, but there was no other alternative but to nerve himself for the undertaking. He gave out a hymn, and while it was being sung, selected a chapter for exposition, at the same time, doubtless, lifting his heart in fervent prayer to God for grace to do his duty. His mouth was opened, and the Lord enabled him, as he did St. Peter, to preach peace by Jesus Christ, and to say to his hearers, with tenderness, fidelity and aflfection, " To you is the word of this salvation sent." His success in this first effort so far exceeded his expecta- tions, that " he purchased to himself great boldness in the faith which is in Christ Jesus:" and ever afterwards was ready to improve every opportunity of usefulness that was afforded, and whether "in season" or ''out of season", to LIFE OF BISHOP UOOBE. 57 preach the word without fear, relying upon the sure promises " My grace is sufficient for thee" and " as thy day so shall thy strength be." Would it not be well if others of our clergy should, by the like means, be forced into the discovery and exercise of ministerial gifts which the Lord has conferred upon them, not to lie idle and unimproved, but to be freely used for the conversion of sinners and the edifying of the Church. Bishop Moore was at no period of his ministry a purely extemporaneous preacher. His sermons were the result of studious and careful preparation, and his general habit was to take his manuscripts into the pulpit with him, although his attention was not rnuch confined to them during the process of delivery ; and his manner had much of the ease and animation which characterize that of the extempora- neous speaker. When he was so far advanced in life as to render glasses necessary in the use of his written discourses, some of the most intelligent and pious of his hearers were accustomed to say, " We are always glad to see him push his spectacles up ; for we are certain that we shall then hear something peculiarly impressive." Who that has ever listened to his lecture-room addresses, or to those fervid and eloquent appeals after sermons by other preachers, which he was in the habit of describing as " codicils," and which he so much delighted in, would hesitate to reckon them among his happiest efforts ? Their pathos melted the hearts — their persuasiveness moved the wills and swayed the decisions of his auditory : and while all gazed with admiration at those brilliant scintillations which sprung out like sparks from the glowing furnace of his soul — the trembling sinner was incited to flee from the wrath to come, and the mourning penitent was inspired with consolation and hope. Under such aflTecting exhibitions of the gospel 58 MEMOIR OF THE none could doubt its truth, or fail to realize its power. Vain would be the attempt to catch the spirit of those glowing addresses in the lecture-room and the chancel, which received their charms from the inspiration of the moment. We might as well attempt to imprint the colours of the rainbow upon canvass by pressing it against the cloud, as to transfer such warm and living messages of truth to paper. To attempt to embody their excellences in a written address would be to strip them of their highest beauties. To use a comparison of Montgomery, it would be like gathering the dew drops in your hand in the hope that they would retain their brilliancy. While hanging upon the morning grass and reflecting the rays of the sun, they sparkle like diamonds of the brightest lustre, but when gathered and mingled together, there is nothing in their aspect to distinguish them from common water ! During his residence on Staten Island, Dr. Moore ac- quired habits of fidelity and zeal which were confirmed and strengthened, and gave great efficiency to his labours in subsequent years and other scenes of his devoted minis- try. He never shrunk from self-denial and hardship, nor did he ever allow pleasure to interfere with duty. Not only was he ready to comply with all parochial services by day ; but, if, as sometimes happened, he were requested in the night to visit a distant part of the Island to baptize a sick child, or administer the consolations of religion to a dying parishioner, he did not hesitate to expose himself to the inconvenience and danger of a dark and even stormy ride. This promptness in the discharge of the most try- ing duties which devolve on a parochial clergyman, was probably confirmed, if not induced, by an affecting incident which occurred at an early period of his ministry. " On one occasion he was invited to meet a company of highly LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 59 esteemed friends at dinner. Just as he was getting into his gig a messenger arrived from a distant part of the Island, requesting him to visit a very poor communicant, who was dangerously ill. Obedient to the call of duty he relinquished his proposed pleasure, but still with some re- luctance, wishing that the call of duty had not been made, and almost inclined to delay it until to-morrow. When arrived at the humble cottage, he was unusually success- ful in imparting the consolations of religion, and in quiet- ing the fears and animating the hopes of his humble friend. As he knelt on the dirt floor, the grace of God warmed his affections, and with unwonted fervour he poured forth his supplications for the dying Christian before the throne of their common Father and God. As he returned home late in the evening, with his own faith strengthened and his Christian graces enlivened, he wept at the thoughts of the reluctance with which he had gone to so delightful a duty, and was humbled under a sense of his ingratitude to that merciful God, who had thus by his very kindness re- buked him. That night his sick friend died, full of peace and hope. The Bishop continued to his death to look back to that evening, spent in the dying Christian's chamber, as per- haps, the happiest of his life ; and he learned from the oc- currence a lesson which he did not forget ; never under any circumstances to postpone duty to pleasure."* Soon after the death of Bishop Moore, there appeared in the secular newspapers a thrilling narrative illustrative of his philanthropy and piety. The act which it records is worthy of a more permanent memorial than it has re- ceived from the periodical press ; and the reader will be gratified by having the original account of the incident transferred to these pages. It is as follows : * Rev. Mr. Norwood's address at the funeral of Bishop Moore. 60 MEMOIR OF THE From the N. Y. Observer. A REMINISCENCE OF BISHOP MOORE. Messrs. Editors, — I have read, with interest, your notices of the death and burial of the late Rt. Rev. Bishop Moore, of Virginia. No eulogy from so humble an individual as myself can add any thing to the estimation in which he was held by the public, — yet I have long owed him a debt of gratitude which I would repay by any means in my power. I must therefore solicit the privilege of recording in your valuable paper a scene of danger and distress in which the Rev. Richard Moore was made the instrument, in the hands of God, of saving myself and nine other per- sons from a watery grave. Many years ago, before the bridges were built over the Hackensack and Passaic rivers, it was customary when a drove of cattle arrived from the eastward for the Phila- delphia market, to transport them from Whitehall to Eliza- bethtown point ; and on such occasions, all the ferry boats, SIX or seven in number, were collected, in order that the drove might be transported at one and the same time. It was on such an occasion, on the 9th day of April, 1793^ that I took a passage in one of the Elizabethtown ferry boats, in which ten or eleven oxen completely filled up the hold. There were on board the boat eight male and two female passengers, and the boatman, named Hiram Hat- field. The wind was blowing so violently at S. W., and a strong tide of ebb, that all the boats which preceded us, thought it dangerous to keep the ship channel, and there- fore steered immediately across the North river, in order to gain the shoal water to the west of Gibbet Island. But our captain, more ambitious and adventurous, determined LIFE or BISHOP MOORE. 61 to avail himself of the strength of the tide in the ship channel, and in that way outrun his competitors. We had proceeded down the bay to a point between Robin's reef and YelJow-hook, on the Long Island shore, when the turbulence of the waves was so great, and the boat rolled so heavily to leeward, that much water was taken in over the gunwale, and the oxen occupied the hold of the boat so entirely, that no access could be had to the well, where a scoop was ordinarily used to free the boat from water : the consequence was, that the boat soon became water- logged, and not answering her helm, fell off into the trough of the sea. In order to bring her head to wind, the fore- sail was lowered, but without effect; and an abortive at- tempt was made to put her before the wind and run back to the city ; so that we then lay at the mercy of the wind and the waves, drifting rapidly towards the Narrows. An attempt was then made to free the boat of the oxen, and those to windward were cut loose, which only hastened the sad catastrophe — for the oxen, unable to keep their feet, sunk down to leeward, and the water then made a complete cascade over the gunwale. It now became evi- dent that the boat would fill ; but we had no apprehension that any part of her would sink — not knowing that there was a quantity of ballast under the floor of the cockpit but as soon as the water had reached that part of the boat it began to settle rapidly, and most of the passengers rushed forward to the forecastle; I myself ran to the mainmast and was in the act of ascending by the hoops of the main- sail, which was still hoisted, when one of the female pas- sengers, a stout, athletic person of about my own weight, caught me round the neck, and held me with such a death- like grasp that she broke my hold of the hoops, and we both plunged into the billows. My situation at that moment e2 Q2 MEMOIR OF THE appeared without a ray of hope ; to unclasp her hands was impossible ; but through the kind providence of God I was enabled to thrust them over my head, and I immediately rose to the surface, and found a barrel of oil about twenty feet to leeward of the boat, (as to the tide,) by which I sustained myself; but in a moment, the woman whom 1 had left eight or ten feet under water, and whose face I never expected to see again, rose by my side, (by reason of the quantity of air in her clothes,) and again attempted to grapple me ; but dreading such a dangerous contact, I resigned the barrel to her and swam to the head of the mainmast, and straddled the gatf of the mainsail, which was still hoisted, holding on by the halyards. I had not a moment's time to look round for my fellow passengers, for [ felt a youth of about twelve or fourteen years of age clinging to my feet, whom I drew up and placed before me on the gaff. It was the son of a Mrs. McLean, v\'ho had lived at Whitehall slip. As soon as he could speak, he in- quired eagerly for his mother — but in looking round I found she was missing ; and I afterwards learned that she had tied herself to the leeboard tackle to prevent being washed overboard, and attempted to tie her son also, but he made a successful resistance. In looking round for my other companions in affliction, I found that our brave boatman had secured six of them on the bow of the boat, not more than four feet of which was above water. Placing him- self on the outside of the shivering group, with the boat rope in his hand, as often as one or another of them was washed off by the violence of the waves, he would leap off and restore them to their narrow and precarious rest- ing place. The woman whom I left at the barrel of oil, had been driven by the wind within reach of the main- LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 63 mast, and seizing hold of the block, she clun^ to it until she was finally rescued. We had drifted down below the watering place (now the Quarantine ground,) and not a rag of sail could be dis- covered on the whole expanse of the bay, that could afford us relief, except the Staten Island ferry boat, which was three or four miles to leeward, and we knew not that our situation was discovered by those on board. For forty-five minutes we had been alternately drenched by the water, or pierced by a cold wind, until our bones were benumbed, and our hearts given up to despondence — for the danger was every moment increasing, and the evening closing in. At that fearful moment, that all-seeing and merciful Being, without whom a sparrow falleth not to the ground, sent Bishop Moore as an angel of mercy to save us from a watery grave. He and his lady had taken passage in Vanduzer's Staten Island ferry boat, navigated by one young man, having in tow a skiff with two men returning from market. Yielding to the heart-touching appeals of the Bishop, these men con- sented to encounter the wind and the waves, and row directly towards us, while the Rev. gentleman (being familiar with the management of the boat, from his pastoral location on the Island,) undertook to assist in plying the boat to windward under a press of sail, in which he exer- cised the skill of a sailor united to the benevolence of a Christian, — not without hazard of their own lives. The sail-boat arrived first within hailing distance, and pressing under our lee, our deliverer stood on the forecastle, with a handkerchief bound round his head, and waiving his hand, he exclaimed, " Hang on, my dear souls, a few moments longer, and we will he there for your deliverance V^ While the sail-boat was making another tack to gain the 64 MEMOIR OF THE windward side, the skiff had reached the leeward, and directed their attention to the woman at the head of the mainmast, who was in the greatest danger — but from her helplessness, the skiff filled in attempting to get her in, and their own safety depended on keeping hold of the mast. At that critical moment the sail-boat gained a position which enabled them to rescue every soul, except Mrs. McLean, who at that time was 15 or 20 feet below the surface. When we arrived on board the boat of our deliverers, we found the cabin shoe-deep in water, from which, on ac- count of the motion of the boat, it was impossible for Mrs. Moore to secure herself, and it is probable she then laid the foundation of the disease of which she died not long after- ward. We were then conducted back to Mr. Vanduzer's ferry, where, through the active benevolence of Bishop Moore, and the hospitality of Mr. Vanduzer's family, we were made as comfortable in body as our circumstances rendered possible ; and then Bishop Moore endeavoured to improve our calamity and deliverance to the salvation of our souls. He animadverted on the extreme danger in which we had been involved — the hopelessness of our situation for near an hour, and the feeble, and unlocked for means which God had employed for our deliverance. " For his own part," he said, " the kind providence of God, in our deliverance, appeared as manifest as if a hand had been stretched out from heaven, and taken us by the hairs of our heads." And then with a most impressive appeal to our hearts and consciences, he said, ' Does not this demand a sacrifice of heartfelt praise and gratitude to your Maker and Pre- server ? And will you not unite with me while I endeavour to address the throne of Grace in your behalf?" — To this we feelingly assented, and were all, by his example, instant- LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 65 ly on our knees : when the man of God poured out his heart in a prayer so tender, devout and appropriate, that our hearts must have been harder than the nether mill- stone had they not melted with sorrow for our sins, and gratitude for our deliverance. A short recital appeared in one of the city papers at that time, of the casualty, with a tribute of praise and gratitude to Bishop Moore — which has probably been for- gotten by all those who then read, or heard it ; but al- though nearly a half century has elapsed, the impressions then made on my heart, have never been effaced, and the name of Bishop Moore has never failed to call to my re- membrance my deliverance from a watery grave, and my able, and estimable deliverer ! William Steele, December, 1841. The fearless exposure of his own life to save his fellow creatures from a watery grave, insured for this servant of God the affectionate confidence of those who had been pre- served by his instrumentality, and inclined them to listen with docile meekness to the spiritual counsel and exhorta- tion he addressed to them, and fervently to join in the sup- plications and thanksgivings which he offered in their be- half at the throne of the heavenly grace. The good seed sown amid the melting and hallowing influence of that eventful hour, will doubtless yield fruit unto eternal life. Never does piety appear more attractive than when clothed in the garment of charity, and acts of kindness and beneficence on the part of its ministers prepare the way for the effective exhibition of the Gospel. A cheerful ex- ercise of all the tender charities of life, leading to a steady course of well-doing, gave to Dr. Moore a strong hold upon 66 MEMOIR OF THE the affections of his parishioners at large, and prepared them to receive with meekness those doctrines of salvation which were so beautifully illustrated and enforced by his benevolent example. Never, probably, was a pastor more thoroughly grounded in the respect and love of his flock than the subject of this memoir. They knew the voice of the shepherd and followed his gentle guidance as he led them into green pastures and beside the still waters. In the duties of that rural parish he found great delight, and while cheered by the steady advancement and prosperity of the churches entrusted to his care, he was also occasion- ally favoured with those plentiful harvests which, in the spiritual no less than in the natural world, give joy to the heart of the husbandman. Amidst the trials and discour- agements of his later years, he often adverted with plea- sure to the ministry of his early manhood, and seemed, for the moment, to live again in renovated youth, amidst the interesting and beautiful scenery of that lovely Island. More than once have we seen his old eyes sparkle with pleasure, and his countenance brighten with joy, while rela- ting a memorable incident that took place there. He had been preaching at one of his usual stations in the afternoon, and, the ordinary closing devotions being ended, pronounced the benediction. But not a person moved to retire. All seated themselves in the attitude of fixed and solemn attention. A member of the church arose and said ' Dr. Moore, the people are not disposed to go home ; please give us another sermon.' At the close of that, the like scene was repeated. And the services were continued un- til, at the close of a /A/rc? sermon, the preacher was obliged to say — ' My beloved people, you tnust now disperse — for, although I delight to proclaim the glad tidings of salvation, my strength is exhausted and I can say no more,' On the LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 67 next day, in his visits among his people, the mystery of this strange occurrence was revealed. He found that while he had been addressing the ears of the assembly, God's spirit had been working powerfully upon their hearts. Under those sermons many were awakened to righteousness ; it was the commencement of a glorious revival of religion, as the fruits of which more than sixty new-born souls were added to the communion of the faithful. While Dr. Moore was rector of St. Andrew's, Staten Island, he was elected one of the clerical deputies to repre- sent the diocese of New York in the General Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States, holden in Baltimore, in the month of May, 1808. During the session of the Convention he preached several times in the churches of the latter city with his usual success, and afterwards, on the death of Dr. Whitehead, received an invitation from St. Paul's parish to become their rector. This was the second call he received to that important church ; both of which, however, he felt it his duty to de- cline. At that General Convention, the only one ever held south of Philadelphia, the hymns of the Church were in- creased from twenty-seven to fifty-seven. Dr. Moore was chairman of the committee by which the additional hymns were selected. When the report was read by the chair- man, one hymn after another was adopted without discus- sion ; till at length an opponent of the measure paid the following compliment to the sweet voice and impressive manner of the reader. " I object to the hymns being read by that gentleman, for we are so fascinated by his style of reading that we shall without hesitation adopt them all." During the whole of his more than twenty years' ministry in St. Andrew's, he was incessantly engaged in the arduous 68 MEMOIE OF THE but delightful duties of a faithful parish priest. He was in labours most abundant ; " in season and out of season ;" in the churches on the Lord's day, and in school-houses and farm-houses in different parts of the Island on week-days, be ceased not to proclaim to the people of his charge '* the unsearchable riches of Christ." His ministry there was, in its character and effects, very much like that of the sainted Legh Richmond, in the Isle of Wight. Such scenes of pastoral fidelity on the one hand, and docile piety on the other ; of cordial co-operation and mutual affection between ministers and people, give joy to Heaven, but, alas ! are too seldom witnessed upon earth. The following extract from the funeral address delivered in the Monumental Church, by the Rev. Wm. Norwood, Bishop Moore's assistant in said church, will form an ap- propriate conclusion to this review of his ministry on Staten Island. " His faithfulness in all the departments of ministerial duty ; his zeal in the advancement of true religion ; his love of his Divine Master, and of his work ; his unaffected love of all men ; his serenity of manners and entire freedom from spiritual pride, and all moroseness in his theological views, gave him not only an unbounded popularity among the people, but won for him their warm admiration and sincere attachment. The fruits of such labours, and of such a Christian character, were soon abundantly mani- fested. His congregation soon overflowed, and it became necessary to enlarge the church edifice. The number of his communicants rapidly increased, and the standard of their piety was much elevated. Even after a large addi- tion to the sittings of his church, it soon became necessary to make still further provision for the numbers who flocked LIFB or BISHOP UOOBE. 60 to his ministry, and a Chapel of Ease was provided, six miles distant from the parish church. During his attend- ance upon the late General Convention, in October last, the writer of this sketch visited this scene of the early labours of his venerated and beloved friend. It was grateful to every good feeling of the heart to witness the ardent love and unaffected veneration for their old pastor, which were still cherished, and remained enshrined in the hearts of his former parishioners and their children. It was delightful to address, in the two beautiful churches of the Parish, large congregations of zealous worshippers of Almighty God, and to see the son of this venerable man, who had, in his earliest manhood, and immediately after his admission to Holy Orders, succeeded his father in this interesting charge, now himself more than fifty years of age, and honoured with the title of Doctor of Divinity, after a useful and suc- cessful ministry of thirty-two years, still occupying the post of his father's duties, and walking in the steps of that good old man as a faithful and beloved shepherd of Christ's flock." CHAPTER III. Fhom 1809 TO 1814. The advantages and disadvantages of city and country charges re- spectively. Dr. Moore's call to St. Stephen's Church, New York. The state of the Church in that city. Ministry of Dr. Hobart. The depressed condition of St. Stephen's when Dr. Moore took charge of it. Its rapid increase. The active efforts of George Warner, recorded by Bishop Moore in a letter to his widow. Lecture-room services and prayer meet- ings. The opinion of Bishop Moore respecting them. Their propriety discussed. Approval of Nelson, Bishops Claggett and Kemp, and the present presiding Bishop. Letters on Prayer Meetings and Associations. Revivals of Religion and Clerical Associations. Letters to Bishops Meade and Bowen on Anxious Seats and Revivals. The course of Dr. Moore in reference to an unhappy controversy in the Church of New York. A succinct review of the efiect of bis ministry in St. Stephen's. While Dr. Moore was prosecuting that long career of success and duty which has been imperfectly sketched in the preceding chapter, the nature and effects of his minis- try upon the Island were closely watched by multitudes in the neighbouring city. He enjoyed a high and enviable reputation for the meekness, benevolence and devotion of his character; for his bold and uncompromising exhibition of the great principles of evangelical truth ; for faithful- ness and assiduity in the performance of parochial duties ,' and for a powerful and persuasive eloquence, which rivet- ed the attention, and moved the hearts of the auditories he addressed. If there were some who contemplated his course with an envious and malignant eye, there were others who gazed on it with admiration, and resolved to embrace the first opportunity which offered to procure his MEMOIR OF THE LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 71 removal to the city, which was then rapidly rising into im- portance, and has since become the commercial emporium of our country. If a country parish, with its homogeneous society, fixed character, simple unsophisticated habits, and peaceful seclusion from the dissipations and vices of fashionable life, holds out the greater promise of personal comfort and hap- piness, it must be admitted that the large and crowded city opens a wider field of usefulness to the able and faithful minister of Jesus Christ. Large cities are the chosen thea- tres for the strife of covetousness, the emulation of vanity, and the struggles of ambition. There are concentrated pomp, and pride, and luxury. There is to be found every incentive to passion — every allurement to excess. There the polluted temples of pleasure throw open their gilded por- tals, through which multitudes of thoughtless votaries are lured 10 eternal ruin. There the din of incessant occupa- tion, the exciting bustle of traffic, the ever-changing variety of scenes, combine with the pageantry and vanity of wealth to distract the attention and wean the thoughts of men from the great themes of morals and religion. There intempe- rance, debauchery, and impurity are exhibited in all their degrees, from decency to loathsomeness. There we behold an exhibition of all those varieties of profligacy and vice, which it is the design of the Gospel to eradicate, and which that divine system alone has the power to restrain and re- form. There the enemies of our faith are combined in most formidable numbers; its advocates are required to grapple with the whole legion of adversaries, and are com- pelled to be incessantly engaged in close conflict with '* the world, the flesh, and the devil." Is the Gospel to be preach- ed to sinners 1 In large cities they are found in the greatest numbers. Are ministers "fishers of men?" Then, like 72 MEMOIR OF THE other fishermen, they may more successfully use their nets where there are shoals of fishes, rather than where only occasional stragglers are to be found. But while we thus speak of the wider field of usefulness which the population of a large city opens to the ministers of Christ, we are far from believing that every clergyman should be desirous of a city charge. As in a great house there are not only different apartments, but different uten- sils— some of silver and gold, and others of wood, and brass, and stone — so is it in the Church ; and God, in the wise economy of his providence and grace, has assigned to his servants not only various gifts, and tastes, and dispositions, but also different theatres of usefulness, where they may serve and glorify him, according to his will, in the exercise of their various qualifications. Many a servant of God may rise to high eminence and usefulness in the patient discharge of his duty as a village or country pastor, who would sink beneath the weight of discouragement and ne- glect, if he were exposed to the excitement and cares, the collisions and rivalries, the trials and disappointments incident to the charge of our city Churches. Even so, on the other hand, there are, doubtless, many who are success- ful pastors and popular preachers in city congregations, whose powers would be unknown, and their peculiar talents and capabilities for usefulness would never be brought to light, if they were required to labour amidst the quiet and unexciting scenes of a country parish. The circumstances by which men are surrounded, in the providence of God, commonly bring into use the various gifts and qualifications by which He designs that they should glorify him in the spheres respectively allotted to them in his Church. Nevertheless, we now and then meet with a rare instance of one who seems to have risen above LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 73 the control of circumstances, and by the pecuharity of his taJents, and the adaptation of his character, to be equally at home before a fashionable or a rustic congregation, and to be alike fitted for usefulness in any sphere. Dr. Moore was one of this description. Having accepted a call to the Rectorship of St. Stephen's Church, in the city of New York, in the spring of 1809, he readily adapted himself to the duties of his new position; and the popularity which he had acquired upon Staten Island was fully sus- tained, and even increased, after his removal to the city of his nativity. The condition of the Church in New York, at that day, was very different from what it is at the present time. The majority of the clergy were, perhaps, more orderly than zealous — more orthodox than evangelical — more distin- guished for attachment to the ritual of the Church than for a fervent and edifying mode of performing it — more in- tent upon guarding their folds against the inroads of enthu- siasm than upon the conversion of sinners and the making of aggressive movements upon the world. This is said with- out any design to disparage the characters or labours of the very respectable and worthy men who, as Rectors or As- sistants, exercised pastoral supervision over the city con- gregations in that day. The design is merely to remind the reader of the existence of a calm, temperate, unruffled state of things among our Churches which would be likely to undergo some change, and, perhaps, be temporarily dis- turbed, by the introduction of a minister distinguished for evangelical boldness, and burning with zeal to promote the glory of Christ in the conversion of souls. The spirit of Dr. Moore's ministry, the measures he prosecuted for the spiri- tual edification of his people, and his style of preaching, (whether right or wrong, about which there will be various f2 74 MEMOIR OF THE opinions,) were undoubtedly diflferent from those most pre- valent among his clerical brethren in that city. It is true that Dr. Pilmore, who visited this country as one of the pioneers of Methodism, (having in early youth been en trusted by its founder with the oversight of all his societies in Ireland, and being afterwards selected, on account of his popular eloquence, to act as missionary in the American colonies,) had, after taking Episcopal orders, maintained in Christ Church a course of ministerial duty marked by its zealous and evangelical character, in which he was fol- lowed by his worthy successor, also a distinguished convert from the same sect. It is true that Dr. (afterwards Bishop,) Hobart, (who for eight preceding years occupied the sta- tion of an assistant minister in Trinity Church,) had, by his commanding talents, his habit of memoriter preaching, (giving to his sermons all the tenderness, pathos and unction of extemporaneous preaching,) and by his voice of various intonations and vast compass and power, employed, not in the delivery of cold, didactic, ethical essays, but of warm and impassioned appeals to the conscience and the heart, thrown high attractions about the art of preaching, and impressed a new character upon the pulpit exercises of that city. His was a genius which marked out a course for itself, breaking through the narrow restraints, and soar- ing above the grovelling axioms of the schools. He felt that his high duty was to preach, not the morals of Seneca, but the doctrines of redemption; that his ministry had to do with the affections no less than with the understandings of men. And while, unappalled, he was ready to break a lance with the giant of Presbyterianism, — in his " Apology for Apostolic Order" — through the press, he could no less easily maintain his claim to an equality with him as a preacher of Christ crucified, in the pulpit. LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 75 The ministry of Hobart may be said to have prepared the way for that of Moore in the city of New York. For notwithstanding their acknowledged differences of opinion on certain points, they were alike animated by sincerity and fervor; the ministry of both was of a stirring and ex- citing character. They laboured successfully in their dif- ferent spheres. The one in his refined and wealthy con- gregation in the heart of the city ; the other with his humbler flock in its suburbs. Both aimed at the same great results — the salvation of souls, and the extension of the Church of God. Whatever might have been the difference in their views and usages, keeping them sundered for a season ; — yet in after life, when the mists were dispersed which in- tercepted and marred their vision of each other's character, there was a perfect harmony of feeling — an exercise of mutual confidence and love. Each regarded the other as a faithful son of the Church at whose common altar they served. Let their misconceptions of each other be forgotten, as the fruits of our fallen nature. Let their unity be kept in perpetual remembrance, as a fruit of that Holy Spirit by which we are all baptized into one body. St. Stephen's, at the time Dr. Moore accepted the rector- ship, offered but few attractions. It presented a forbid- ding and unpromising field to all except a man of God, exercising full reliance upon the promises of him who is able from stones to raise up children unto Abraham, — and has declared that the word which proceedeth out of his mouth shall not return unto him void, but shall accomplish that which he doth please, and shall prosper in the thing whereto he hath sent it. There were not more than thirty families connected with the congregation, and out of these there were but about twenty who knelt as communicants at the Lord's Table. So discouraging were the circum- 76 MEMOIR OF THE stances under which Dr. Moore entered upon his new charge. But he " despised not the day of small things ;" and the Lord, who had placed him there, gave him such favour in the eyes of the people, that his congregation rapidly increased, and his whole ministerial career in New York was one of uninterrupted prosperity and success. Soon after his settlement in St. Stephen's, a body of seventy communicants from one of the sister Churches transferred themselves to his pastoral care. These were pious and devoted followers of Jesus Christ, who were in- fluenced to the adoption of this plan of colonization, not more by a desire for their own spiritual improvement and comfort than by an earnest wish to be employed as co- labourers with him in the edification and enlargement of the Church of God. At the head of this band of communi- cants was the late George Warner, Esq, He was a man of liberal fortune and easy circumstances. Highly esteemed for his good sense and integrity, he often held a place in the common council of New York, and more than once was a representative of the city in the general assembly of the state. He had a wide circle of acquaintances in which his influence was great, and he was disposed to exert that in- fluence to the utmost in favour of truth and godliness. A Christian above the ordinary grade, he was not content with adorning his profession by a decent life of exemplary virtue, but freely devoted his wealth, and influence, and personal labours to the cause of piety and the Church. His religious zeal, bordering upon enthusiasm, perhaps, in some instances, leapt over its appropriate limits, and was not duly tempered with discretion. He was not only fond of extemporaneous prayer in social meetings, but occasional- ly, in singing a hymn, would supply the defects of memory by composing a verse or line under the impulse of the LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 77 moment. This good man was never more in his element than when conducting a prayer meeting ; and in addition to his activity in visiting the sick and afflicted, there was scarcely a day in the week when he did not lead the devo- tions of a praying circle in some section of the city. All these "society meetings" as they were called, proved so many fountains of spiritual activity and feeling which poured their rills into the reservoir of St. Stephen's. Such a layman, watchful, self-denying, benevolent, burning with zeal and unwearied in labours, is "a host in himself" — and it is probable that the efibrts of Mr. Warner proved more efficient, as auxiliary to the work of the rector, than the services of any curate or assistant minister would have been. He attached himself to Dr. Moore with all the intensity of implicit confidence and warm affection. He was ever ready to sustain him under his burdens, to sympa- thize with him in his trials, to swell the number of atten- dants on his ministry, and to employ every means in his power to secure for that ministry the greatest amount of efficacy and success. His affection for his pastor was warmly reciprocated. Often did Dr. Moore speak with admiration and gratitude of the unvarying sympathy, and faithful co-operation of his beloved parishioner, to whose labours and prayers he ac- knowledged a deep indebtedness for the uncommon success of his ministry in St. Stephen's. The delightful intercourse of their kindred minds was often renewed during the Bishop's annual visits to New York, and ceased not, till his old friend " rested from his labours by dying in the Lord." On hearing of this event. Bishop Moore addressed the fol- lowing letter to Mrs. Warner, in which he declares his high estimate of the character and services of her departed hus- band. T8 MEMOIR OF THE TO MRS. GEOHGE WARKER. January 21st, 1835. I have seen in the public prints that it hath pleased the Almighty to remove from the Church militant, to the Church triumphant in heaven, my much beloved friend, Mr. Warner. To you, my afflicted friend, and to the re- ligious community to which he belonged, the loss of his society and conversation must be inexpressibly great. Much however as he was beloved by us, we must not suffer his removal to excite in ourminds an unkind thought of Deity; the good qualities we discovered in him, his devotedness to the God we love, his unwearied efforts to promote the good of souls, should convince us of his fitness for the change through which he has passed : and influence us to prepare for the same solemn and momentous event. There are few individuals in society who knew Mr. Warner more perfectly than myself. For five years he was my affectioiv- ate companion and kind parishioner. We took sweet coiunsel together, and went into the house of God as friends. I can say with truth that our intimacy never for one moment experienced interruption. And while I live I shall remember him with affection, and thank God for the encour- agement he gave me in the work of the ministry. I have always thought that much of the success which attended my labours at St. Stephen's, was owing to the efforts of my departed friend. His prayers and his influence were united with my exertions; our hearts were fixed upon the same object, the good of Zion, and the Lord prospered the work of our hands upon us. He has reaped, I trust and believe, that rich reward promised to the faithful, and may God in infinite mercy in his own time invest us also with the crown LIFE or BISHOP MOOBE. 70 of eternal life. In the course of five years the number of communicants increased from about twenty, to four hundred. Pleased and delighted as was my soul at tbe prosperity of Zion, still 1 am fully of opinion that his pleasure and delight was equal to my own. We would walk from one end of the city to the other, visiting the sick, praying with the aflflicted, and exhorting those in health to seek the Lord, and never did I hear him say he was fatigued. When indisposed myself, and under these circumstances incapable of visiting the children of sorrow, I would send the appli- cant to George Warner, and satisfied myself that the ob- ject would be as fully answered, as if I had attended in person. He heard me deliver my last sermon in Christ Church, and escorted me to my brother's house — we then shook hands with all the warmth of friendship, and parted in this world, alas ! forever. Were I near you, my afflicted sister, I would endeavour to console you with a relation of a thousand of his virtues. Should we never meet in this vale of tears, I trust we shall meet in a better world, and again see those pious friends, from whom God in his provi- dence hath separated us. May God be your refuge, and un- derneath you may he place the everlasting arms of his love. With every sentiment of Christian affection. Believe me in truth, your sincere friend, Richard Channing Moore. Thoroughly grounded in the affections of his parishioners, favoured with the confidence of the Christian community in New York, and as a preacher, attractive to many of the strangers who resorted to the city, Dr. Moore, " through evil as well as through good report," pursued the even tenor of his way, as a faithful ambassador of the cross, and was diligently engaged, '* in season and out of season," in labour- 80 MEMOIR OF THE ing for the conversion of sinners and the edification of be- lievers. Some made him the object of their reproach ; others of ridicule and scorn ; but whether it were his lot to encounter the bold opposition of the world, — or the more secret, but not less bitter censures of false brethren, " none of these things moved him," while assured that he was doing his Master's work, and enjoying his Master's bless- ing. Never was there a stronger example given of a la- borious and successful ministry. In addition to three full services in the church on the Lord's day, he was in the habit of holding two or more lectures in the week at school houses. He imitated those Apostles who " daily in the tem- ple, and in every house, ceased not to teach and preach Jesus Christ." It was about the year 1811, in the days of his boyhood, that the writer of this memoir was so favoured as to be in- troduced to the friendly regards of Dr. Moore. Gratefully do I remember the deep interest he manifested in my spi- ritual growth and welfare as a youthful disciple of Christ, and the paternal tenderness with which he cherished and encouraged my trembling desire to devote myself to the ministry of the Gospel. During my occasional visits to New York, previous to my ordination, it was my delight to be found among the worshippers who, on the Lord's day, crowded to St. ti^tephen's, to offer their devotions and hear the gospel preached in purity and power. On one occa- sion I accompanied my venerated friend to one of his week night services in a school-house ; and what was my sur- prise to observe a large audience, under the power of truth, melted into tears ! At the close of the service, many of them gathered around their beloved pastor to lay open the sorrows of their sin-stricken hearts, and inquire what they must do to be saved ! Never shall I forget a remark he LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 81 made to me at that time in answer to an inquiry respect- ing the propriety and usefulness of such meetings, about which there was and is a diversity of opinion in our church. I shall never forget it, because it has had its influence upon the whole course of my ministry, and its wisdom and truth have been fully confirmed by my own experience. The remark was substantially as follows : — " I encounter much reproach and opposition from some of my brethren on ac- count of these meetings. But they are neither inconsistent with the principles, nor prohibited by the canons, of the Church. And, although some condemn them as irregular and methodistical, I cannot, as a minister of Christ, desi- rous of the salvation of souls, give them up. For I know that God's blessing is upon them- They are the nurseries of my communion." How great the change which has taken place since that time ! Now, in our cities and towns, a lecture room is thought to be almost a necessary appendage to a Church. The holding of weekly lectures may now be considered as the rule, the omission of them as the exception. At the period of which we write there were very few of the Episcopal clergy in the United States who ever held any other services than the public worship of the Church on the Lord's day and some of the greater festivals. The few who held lectures and prayer-meetings in unconse- crated places, were viewed with an eye of suspicion, and were subject to evil report as being regardless of rubrics and canons, if not utterly disaffected towards the worship and principles of the Church at whose altars they served. So decided and strong was the opposition to the rector of St. Stephen's on this score, that " he was compelled to throw himself under the protection of Bishop Benjamin Moore, 82 MEMOIE OP THE then the acting Bishop of New York, and said to him, ' if yon will take the responsibility of saying I shall have no prayer- meetings, I will give them up.' The Bishop replied, ' Sir, I will do no such thing." 'Then Sir,' said Dr. Moore, ' neither will I.' And from that time he continued his meet- ings with much less difficulty."* This interview was very similar, in its nature and result, to one which took place between the writer, soon after his appointment to the rec- torship of St. Ann's Church, Brooklyn, and the late Bishop Hobart. The Bishop was well known to be unfavourable to what are called prayer-meetings, and fearing that there would be an attempt to force them into the congregation at Brooklyn, sought an interview with the Rector, in which he expressed his apprehensions on the subject. He was assured that no design was entertained to impose such ex- tra services upon the people contrary to their wishes — and this question was proposed to him : " If any portion of the congregation shall desire voluntarily to meet during the week for prayer and other religious services, do you think it would be my duty, as a minister of Jesus Christ, to pro- hibit or discourage it ?" To which the Bishop, in his em- phatic manner replied, "God forbid!" Notwithstanding the diversity of opinion between them as to the utility of the extra services referred to, he always treated that young rector with the utmost courtesy and kindness, never found fault with his parochial arrangements, and, in the ser- mon preached when he admitted him to the priesthood, spoke in too flattering terms of his past ministry in the Church, not excepting his social lectures or prayer meet- ings. That the opinions of Dr. Moore, in relation to the meet- * Rev. Dr. Tyng, in Christian Keepsake for 1840. LIFE or BISHOP MOOEE. 83 ings in question, underwent no important change after his elevation to the episcopate and removal to another sphere of duty, will be manifest from the following letter, address- ed to one of his clergy in the year 1823. TO THE REV. MR. , ON SOCIAL MEETINGS FOR PRAYER. Richmond, Jan. 13th, 1823. Rev. and Dear Sir, — The canons require that before all sermons and lectures the form of prayer should be used, but I do not recollect any statute against what you call prayer-meetings. Should ten, twenty, or fifty of your peo- ple choose to meet at a private house, and be disposed to sing a psalm, or hymn, and unite in extempore prayer, there is certainly no canon to forbid it. Is it not better that they should thus pass their time than to waste it in common conversation 1 Nay, if a clergyman knows that such is their disposition and desire, would it not be improper in him to oppose it ? The church has ordained services to be used in public, but certainly the Church does not mean to prevent her members from praying without form in pri- vate. I have seen good effects to arise from such pious assemblies of neighbours, and, so far from opposing it, I would encourage it, especially if the people wish it. The only fear to be apprehended is enthusiasm, but, under the direction and control of a judicious minister, that evil may be avoided. If 1 was so situated as to be convinced of its utility in a country parish, / would keep the reins in my own hands, and give it my countenance. Prayer, if sin- cere, ought to be encouraged, and I think I can say with truth, that I have seen the greatest benefit flow from the practice. When I say that I would keep the reins in my 84 MEMOIR OF THE own hands, I mean that it should be done, if done at alL under my patronage* I would form the plan^ and give it my support. The people thus seeing their minister dis- posed to afford them his countenance, instead of conceiving a dislike to our inimitable forms would become attached to them, and by an indulgence in private, would advocate them in public. When I lived at the North, my people were ardently attached to the service of the Church ; an attachment which in many instances grew out of the in- dulgence I gave them in private. If the clergy are con- sistent in their public duties, and adhere to the Rubric strictly ; if they preserve their distinctive character, and yield no points in the discharge of their stated services, I think that there can be little fear of injuring the Churchy by permitting their people to meet at each other's houses^, and pray to God without a form. I have found it neces- sary to caution some upon this subject, because I have discovered that they have yielded every thing; even by leaving their congregations and services, and improperly ex- changing with dissenters; nay, one person acknowledged that he had united in the sacrament and thought it right so to do. When I am writing to you, I consider myself as addressing a sound Churchman ; I have, therefore, no fear that you will yield too much. I have the most perfect con- fidence in your judgment, and would wish you to do what you think is proper, guarding, how^ever, your public duties^ and thus evincing your attachment to the Liturgy. Believe me, dear Sir, Yours, &c. &c. Richard Channing Moore. To the last year of his life Bishop Moore continued to par- ticipate in such services with a degree of zeal and enjoy- LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 85 ment uncommon for one of his advanced age, and equal to that which he had experienced at any earHer period of his ministry. Even his mitred and hoary head afforded him no protection against reproach upon this account. It will be seen, howev'^er, from the following extract of a letter to a clerical friend, that he not only bore it meekly and unmoved, but was even stimulated by it to greater energy and fer- vour in the service of the Lord. March, 22nd, 1832. " So far am I, my beloved sir, from regretting any of our proceedings at our Association last summer, that I am re- joiced we proceeded as we did. Much good at the time was done; it would therefore be sinful to regret the means we honestly made use of, and which appeared to be pre- eminently blessed. I am the last man who would inten- tionally offend any person; but if, in the faithful discharge of my duty, people will be offended, although 1 would lament the circumstance, and grieve at their mistake, still I would patiently and steadily persevere. I have reached a period of life in which T have a right to an opinion; and as a clergyman of near half a century, I do think that opinion is entitled to some consideration ; and in cases in which laymen differ from me, as it regards measures, they ought to remember that there is more reason for them to think I may be right, than that they are right, and that I am positively wrong. I do not presume to blame them, and only ask in return that they will not blame me. I sincerely hope that the precious Redeemer may be with us at our approaching meeting. I do pray that he will mani- fest his saving power in the conversion of sinners, and in building up believers in the faith of the Gospel. I do pray that my health may be preserved ; that my heart may be G 2 86 MEMOIR OF THE warmed by his grace ; and that I may preach in demon- stration of the spirit, and of the truth as it is in Christ Jesus. I do pray that Satan's kingdom may receive a shock from which it may never recover, and the will of God may be done on earth as it is in heaven ; and I do pray also, that all the clergy who may be present, may be blessed with a double portion of the Holy Spirit, and that our united labours may eventuate in the promotion of that cause committed to our charge. To these supplications, my brethren in Alexandria must not rest satisfied with saying amen ! but to that amen I entreat them to add their most fervent and sincere supplications to Almighty God, and call upon the pious members of both congregations to unite in prayer for the same purpose. God has promised that if we ask we shall have ; and as his promises are yea and amen in Christ Jesus, we have a right to believe our joint supplications will be heard, and such blessings poured down upon us as will rejoice our hearts and strengthen our hands. When you see the clergy, I will thank you to remember me to them in much affection; and with love to your companions, believe me. Rev. and dear sir. Your sincere friend and father in Christ Jesus, R. C. Moore." Surely none can read this extract, glowing with zeal for Christ and the salvation of souls, and not exclaim, " This is the very spirit of the Gospel ! If all our Bishops and clergy were thoroughly imbued with such a spirit, the Church would soon shake herself from the dust and shine forth in all the beauty of holiness." The question relating to Lecture-room Services, by which our communion was at one time seriously agitated, at this time excites comparatively little feeling, and less conten- LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 87 tion. The advance of evangelical truth and godliness, con- nected with the extension of our borders, has afforded con- stantly increasing evidence of the utility of such services ; and in their extensive adoption by the Bishops and clergy, the Church may be said to have given its suffrage in their favour. With regard to the mode of conducting such services, there is, and there may properly be, a difference of opinion among their advocates. Some believe themselves obligated to use the whole morning or evening prayer precisely as they would in the church. Others believe themselves to be at liberty to select a service for such social assemblies, just as they do for Sunday Schools and Bible Classes — that ser- vice consisting of the Litany, (which is a perfect act of social devotion in itself,) or of the prayers in the daily ser- vice— there being a compliance with the requisition of the canon, that before Sermons and Lectures no prayers shall be used except those set forth in the Book of Common Prayer. A chapter from the Bible is read, and a Lec- ture founded upon it, or an exhortation, delivered by the officiating minister, who closes the services with a short extempore prayer and the benediction. There are some few clergymen who occasionally request some pious and discreet layman to lead in prayer at the close of the meet- ing. In some of our congregations, the Sunday-school Teachers, and others piously disposed, meet by themselves alone, or under the direction of their minister, for social prayer and conference. It is of the Lecture-room Services, conducted by the minister alone, that the writer deems it necessary to speak ; because these alone are the services which so extensively prevail " through evil and good report" in the Episcopal Church. They are substantially such services as are com- 88 MEJttOIE OF THE mended by the pious Nelson, in the preface to his work on the Festivals and Fasts, with this difference, that the re- ligious societies of which he speaks were composed of lay- men, who prayed with and exhorted each other without the presence of a clergyman. Of these Nelson says : " I cannot apprehend but that they must be very serviceable to the interests of religion, and may contribute very much to revive that true spirit of Christianity which was so much the glory of primitive times. . . And for those objections which are urged against these societies from some canons of the Church, they seem to be founded upon a misunder- standing of the sense of those canons." Lecture-room services, if properly conducted, " the minis- ter," as Bishop Moore expressed it, " keeping the reins in his own hands" — giving precedence and pre-eminence to the services of the Church — will tend to increase rather than lessen the attachment of the people to the Prayer Book. Social religious meetings, (holding an intermediate rank between the public worship of the Church and family worship,) but far more liable to abuse than those now advocated, have received the approbation and sanction of some of our Bishops who prided themselves upon their rigid attachment to the forms and usages of the Church. The following will suffice as an evidence of it. The con- vention of the Church in Maryland many years ago adopted the following resolution : "Resolved, that it be recommended, and it is hereby recommended, to the ministers of this Church on the Western and Eastern shores, to meet in voluntary associations on their respective shores three times in every year; that they labour at these meetings, by fre- quent and earnest preaching and prayer, to awaken people to a more lively sense of the important concerns of religion ; encourage themselves to a more ardent zeal in the work of LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 89 their holy calling ; and form such rules for their government at those associations, as to them may appear expedient : provided nothing be ordained contrary to the discipline of the Church." To effect these objects the following rules were agreed to : " The members shall recommend to their several congregations to establish among themselves a society or societies for catechizing and preparing the can- didates for confirmation, for religious discourse, prayer, and singing, to meet once a week, or a fortnight, as may best suit their avocations and engagements. That each member shall select out of his congregation a small number of persons who shall be communicants remarka- ble for experience, prudence, humility, and zeal, to act as a stated council for promoting religion in the said societies; one of whom, at least, shall attend, to prevent enthusiastic heats, or light, trifling, or worldly conversation in them." June 14,1816. '^ We approve of this plan and will be happy to find it carried into operation. Thomas John Claggett, James Kemp." But notwithstanding long experience of the Church, both in England and this country, has proved the usefulness to the cause of religion of such social services as we now speak of, yet there are some among us who think it safer for the Church to dispense with them, and do not in their con- sciences approve of them. We hope the time may come when there shall be perfect unanimity of sentiment among us on this, as well as all other points which affect the in- terests of the Church and the great w^ork which her Lord 90 MEMOIR OP THE has given her to do in the world. In the meantime, " let brotherly love continue." Let us cultivate " things which make for peace, and things wherewith one may edify another." To indulge in crimination and recrimination has no tend- ency to advance the cause of truth or charity. And while the advocates of lecture-room services and prayer meetings should abstain from all severe. condemnation of those who see fit not to adopt them ; those who disapprove of them should be careful how they question the integrity and orthodoxy of those who indulge a liberty which they con- scientiously believe the Church has allowed : they should inquire " what manner of spirit they are of," before they flippantly talk of a violation of ordination vows and a want of Church principles, as involved in a practice sanctioned by the usage of a large body of the most active and devoted of our clergy, and by that of perhaps a majority of our present house of Bishops. Our remarks upon this point have been extended beyond our design, not only because we deem it of vital importance to the welfare of the Church that the liberty hitherto allowed in this particular should be preserved unimpaired, in conformity with the liberal spirit of her institutions, but also with a view of protecting the memory of a departed father in the Church from the reproaches of some of her thoughtless sons. The following wise counsels of our venerable presiding Bishop, inculcating mutual forbearance and brotherly love, if duly heeded, could not fail to exert a salutary influence upon the Church. Like every thing which falls from his patriarchal pen (as the result of deep reflection, extensive observation, and long-tried principles,) they deserve to be treasured up in our memories and our hearts, LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 91 to be frequently pondered as the advice'of rare judgment, unquestioned prudence, and fervent piety. " The most candid of those who are opposed to prayer- meetings, admit that this subject is ' a question of expe- diency.' That God's word forbids such meetings, no one probably will venture to affirm. That the Church forbids them, no one has been able to show. And should she dis- approve, nothing hinders that she should forbid them. And if it be, as certainly it is, a question of expediency, what judges can be more fit or competent to decide the question than our parochial clergy, each in his own parish ? Any clergyman who is incapable of judging in this case, cannot be qualified for the pastoral charge. Supposing that they are so qualified, and their being continued in that office is a proof that they are so esteemed, and to their decision we may safely leave the question. They best know, each one in his own parish, what the people need, and what means and efforts it pleases God to bless among them. " There is reason to fear that some write and speak against these meetings more from prejudice than knowledge. They who have not attended them can be no better qualified to judge of their use, than they who have not attended our public worship, to judge of our Liturgy. By the latter we are told, and they endeavour to prove, that our printed prayers produce of course a lifeless formality ; by the for- mer, that prayer meetings are productive of spiritual pride and many evils. They both can urge very plausible rea- sons : but we, who judge from long and decided experience^ are convinced that both are mistaken. In either case hese evils may be, and in too many instances, no doubt, have been produced ; but they are no less the necessary consequence in the one case than in the other. If they who frequent our solemn assemblies, and devoutly use our 92 MEMOIR OF THE service, find it lifeless and unsatisfying to a pious mind, they may with better reason condemn its use. And they, who attend the prayer meetings, and find in them no religious improvement, may well forsake them. And if it be a known fact and generally true that they who frequent those meetings, are less pious, and less humble than other Christians; if they are more worldly, and vain, and wicked; if they are not so constant nor so devout at Church ; if they are less given to prayer, and often absent from the Lord's table ; if they are less regardful of the godly admonitions of their spiritual rulers ; if they are not so constant in fami- ly prayer, and generally not so good Christians, this certainly is some good proof that the meetings are of evil tendency]; and till this be proved, with what truth or justice is it afiirmed that experience has shoivn them to be of evil tendency ? If meetings of the like nature in other parts have produced bad effects, we are not an- swerable. After long experience, we have not, to the Lord's praise be it said, discovered any of those bad effects which some of our brethren apprehend. A regard for the Prayer-book has not, in any degree, been diminished but the contrary : it is the full belief of the present writer, that in no one of the United States are the Rubrics and canons of the Church better observed than in Rhode Island. If others make an ill use of the ordinance of preaching, or of the celebration of Christmas, or of conference meetings, let those who are disposed and accustomed to make a good use of the same things, enjoy their privileges quietly and with- out reproach. A large part of our communicants in this state do not attend the meetings; and for this I have never heard them blamed. If they spend their evenings better, we rejoice and bless God. Happy would it be did all observe the most excellent rule of charity given in the 4 LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 93 14th chapter of the Romans. Then he that regardeth the day, would regard it unto the Lord ; and he that regardeth not the day, to the Lord he would not regard it : — he would neither presume nor desire io judge another marl's servant, but to his own master let him stand or fall. The evil most to be feared, and most prevalent among us, is lukevvarmness. With shame must v^^e acknowledge that we incline to be cold rather than hot. Enthusiasm is as rare in our Churches as a scorching sun in a northern win- ter : the mercury of our zeal is constantly below the degree of temiierater* There seems to be a natural and established connexion between clerical associations, social devotional meetings, and revivals of religion ; and whenever opposition to either or all of them exists on the part of pious clergymen and laymen, we believe it arises from the want of adequate ex- perience and observation in the premises. Good men con- tract prejudices against measures and means of doing good, of which they know nothing but from hearsay: whereas, if they could be persuaded to acquire that accurate knowl- edge of their character and effects, which can be obtained only by personal observation and participation, not only would their prejudices against the measures in question be removed, but they would themselves become their most decided friends and active promoters. Many of our clergy, not trained up under the influences of the Church, having known social lectures and prayer meetings to be abused to the purposes of fanaticism in the denominations from which they came, and not duly estimating the conservative power of Church institutions and principles, suppose that services amongst us bearing the like name, would necessarily be * Bishop GrlswoIJ on Prayer meetings. •94 MEMOIR OP THE * t followed with the like results. Even so there are many, who, having witnessed or heard of, those disorganizing, tumultuous excitements, which, gotten up and sustained by- human machinery of questionable propriety — spread like wildfire through a community, destroying good fruits, rather than producing them — but dignified with the name of re- vivals,— look with sentiments of distrust or aversion upon any state of things in the Church to which the same name is applied, though it be essentially different in its nature and results. But as when we speak of a lecture-room service or a prayer meeting in the Episcopal Church, we mean an orderly assembly in which the service of the Church is treated with due respect, and the exercises are wholly con- ducted or controlled by the clergy ; even so when we speak of a " revival" in the Episcopal Church, we mean a season of more than usual interest in the subject of religion, pro- duced by the special influence of the Holy Spirit giving efficacy to the ordinary means of grace — such as faithful preaching of the word and fervent prayer. The result is that the graces and virtues of the devout are revived and strengthened ; an unwonted depth of solemnity and feeling exists in the congregation at large, and within a short time, many sinners are converted from the error of their ways, who " profess the faith of Christ crucified" in Baptism or Confirmation, and, by participating in the Lord's Supper, become united to the communion of the faithful. These " times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord," — these vernal seasofis o( grace, may be expected to occur in those congregations, where the faithful preaching of the clergy is accompanied with the frequent and fervent prayers of the people. With such seasons Dr. Moore was favoured during his ministry on Staten Island : such seasons LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 95 he rejoiced to witness, more than once, during his ministry in St. Stephen's. He preached the Gospel there amidst the effusions of the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven. The blessing came in fulfilment of the promise, " ask and ye shall receive." Often was the heart of the preacher cheered, before commencing the service, by the entrance of his friend Warner, who had come from the prayer meeting to the vestry-room — and, with a countenance beaming with joy, exclaimed, " my dear pastor, I am persuaded that your labours will be attended with a blessing to-day, for we have had great freedom in praying for you this morning !" Never, perhaps, did he administer the Lord's Supper in that Church without having some new communicants; but there were times when many were at once " added unto the Lord." The great blessing of God which so often ac companied the labours of Dr. Moore, rendering them in- strumental in the conversion of multitudes, necessarily made him the friend and advocate of " revivals of religion," in the sober and rational meaning of that phrase. He was, however, no friend to any religious excitement inconsistent with the decent order and staid character of the Church. He looked with suspicion and displeasure upon those " new measures" which certain travelling evangelists of other denominations have represented to be indispensably neces- sary to the " getting up of a revival." He viewed the " anxious benches," — the calling upon those who were willing to go to heaven to rise — the putting it to vote whether a congregation were desirous to be saved — and all parts of the modern machinery of Pelagianism, so exten- sively employed in some places to subserve the ends of fanaticism, as not only dishonourable to religion, and de- lusive in their tendency, but also chargeable with impiety, in preferring human inventions to the divinely instituted 96 MEMOIR OF THE means of grace. It will be gratifying to the reader to peruse the Bishop's sentiments on these interesting topics, as expressed in the following extracts from his corres- pondence. As a suitable introduction to the extracts, we give the following brief paragraph from Dr. Hawks' history of the Church in Virginia. " It is not wonderful that in the retrospect of the facts we have here related,* the Bishop should entertain an opinion, best expressed in his own words, that, ' although we have the promise of heaven to be always present with the Church, still there are particular seasons in which the Almighty displays his power in a manner so overwhelming as to command the attention of his rational creatures; to dispel that coldness which makes them indifferent to the calls of duty ; to excite their gratitude to God for his mer- cies ; to melt obdurate offenders into contrition, and to oblige them to sue for forgiveness at the throne of grace.' Nor is it matter of surprise that the good Bishop should be led by this incident in his own religious experience, often to impress, as he does, especially upon the younger clergy, the duty, at seasons in which the Almighty manifests his presence in a more than ordinary way, gladly to avail themselves of such propitious times to put forth redoubled efforts in their Master's cause." The following letter to Dr. (afterwards Bishop) Meade, was probably occasioned by a fear that some of the clergy of Virginia, misled by the reports of the success attendant upon the use of the " new measures" among other denomi- nations, might be induced to resort to them. But between * The remarkable scene attending the three consecutive sermons on Staten Island. LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 97 the writer of the letter and him to whom it was addressed there was a perfect agreement of opinion on the points of which it treats. TO DR. MEADE, (AFTERWARDS BISHOP.) Nov. 20th, 1828. Rev. and Dear Sir,— I am confident that your mind would revolt at every thing like management in the con- cerns of religion. I have been acquainted for many years, with what I have seen in some other societies, and what I have been obliged to call by that name; and I confess my heart has been pained at the picture which at times has been presented to my view. If Christianity is a system founded on truth, the work of grace must be God's work ; and I cannot believe that the Almighty stands in need of the cunning craftiness of man to promote his designs. I once told a presiding elder, that I observed in their exer- cises what 1 considered unlawful. He replied that the effect was visible ; to which I rejoined, that the end could not justify improper means. Upon which he left me in a pet. I cannot think that the Spirit of God can be brought into operation by human management. In striving for the mastery, we must strive lawfully ; we must use the means God has appointed; prayer, reading the Scriptures, and the faithful preaching of the Gospel, constitute the ordi- nances of heaven for the conversion of sinners ; and where this is done in sincerity of heart, that effect will be pro- duced, which in the wisdom of God he may think proper. If we wish to see the work of grace prosper in our hands, and a lasting and permanent effect produced, we must ob- serve order and decency in our worship. A momentary influence may be effected, by measures pursued by some h2 98 MEMOIR OF THE other societies; but how often do we see those whose pas- sions have been excited, and who have attempted to build without counting the cost, relapse into former indiscretions, and show that the work was that of man and not of God. We have to do with people whose minds have been informed by reading, and who would fly from us with disgust, were we to permit feeling to take place of reason, or to use any means other than those prescribed by Scripture. A morbid appetite is by no means an uncommon thing in religious concerns. As judicious physicians, we cannot consistently with duty apply such things as would increase it, but, on the contrary, should administer the wholesome and rational remedies presented by the Lord Jesus Christ. Indeed, I have thought that there is great impropriety in attempting to invite the Spirit of God to descend upon the people in any other way than Scripture has authorized. That we are too cold is a solemn truth. To remedy this evil is in our power, provided we will seek the aid of God's Holy Spirit, in sincere and fervent prayer; and I am persuaded that if we honestly call upon God to assist us with his grace, and honestly preach his own word, he will make that word quick and powerful to the conversion of those who hear it. Can we suppose that the Almighty stands in need of the arts of man to further his designs ? " He will work, and who shall let it." Let us, then, be faithful and indus- trious, and we will see the work of the Lord prosper in our hands. Call into exercise your own experience, and that experience will tell you that when in private prayer, you would not think of invoking God's blessing in any other way than in sincere and fervent supplication. Fou would make use of no art; on the contrary, you would fly from it with abhorrence, lest your devotions should excite the dis- pleasure of that Being whom you addressed. Why, then, should we attempt in public what we should shrink from LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 99 doing in private? Direct your attention to the state of things in this diocese when you first entered the ministry. Could you, at that dreary hour, have promised yourself the success with which a merciful God has blessed us? Did you expect to see, in fifteen or sixteen years, upwards of fifty churches built and repaired? Did you expect to see, instead of three or four men to help you, fifty clergymen disposed to do their duty ? Would you not, at the moment of your ordination, have been willing to have compromised for such an enlargement of our Zion as you now witness? Had the Almighty promised you that we should have a Seminary for the instruction of our youth, of so flattering a description as that with which we are now favoured, would you not have called on all the powers of your soul to bless his Holy Name ? God has hitherto blessed us: let us redouble our diligence, and not be led to choose some other way, lest he should withdraw from us in displeasure, and leave us in our own hands. I love the spirit of zeal which you manifest ; old as I am, I feel some of it myself, and will cordially unite with you in prayer to God to warm our hearts, to strengthen our hands, and to direct us by his counsel. I remember when you first in- vited me to remove to Virginia, and when Wilmer and Norris wished me to visit the diocese, that good old George Warner, of New York, entreated me not to stir a single step ; if the Lord wishes you to settle there, (he observed,) he will make the way clear before you; if you attempt to take the measure in your own hands, he will be displeased. I have written a long letter, because the subject called for it; should you consider me wrong in my views, I am open to conviction, and will thank you for a full expression of your heart. Love to Mrs. . Your sincere friend, R. C. M. 100 MEMOIR OF THE TO THE SAME, ON " ANXIOUS SEATS." " There is one disadvantage, in my opinion, inevitably resulting from all attempts to produce undue excitement by extraordinary measures, and that is this : people are led to suppose that there is no real religion without it, and therefore disrelish all services which are sober and rational, and brand those who do not think as they do, with indif- ference to religion. This I call a morbid appetite ; an appetite which is not reasonable, and which leads men to place more reliance on their own measures, than those measures deserve, and less on that Spirit which quickeneth and giveth life to the sinner. As far as I am acquainted with religion, one of its first operations on the mind is that of great humility; we feel that we are sinners — that im- pression makes us very humble. Now, an humble Chris- tian is, in general, so doubtful of himself, that instead of rushing into the first seat, he naturally prefers a less con- spicuous place. Why the prayers of the minister could not be heard unless the anxious occupied a particular seat I cannot understand ; the Publican, I recollect, stood afar off, and yet his modest and sincere petition was heard; while the Pharisee went empty away. I have always been charged with a leaning towards 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 like to see THAT 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 for life, free from every thing that looks like management or human contrivance. In your last letter you lament that our Clerical Associations are not more attended to. Of this I LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 101 am as sorry as any man can be, knowing, from experience, that the people will attend more generally on such occa- sions than on the stated services of an individual. I wish that the brethren would take that measure into considera- tion ; and I am sure, if they would, that the services of the Church, and the preaching of our own estimable clergymen thus assembled, would be productive of the greatest and best effects." TO BISHOP BOWEN. REVIVALS — ANXIOUS SEATS. June 13th, 1832, " I am sorry that causes should exist in your department of the Church calculated to produce disquietude of mind, or to excite the least uneasiness in your bosom. Individuals placed in the situations we occupy cannot (amidst the va- riety of opinions which prevail on the subject of what are called revivals,) expect to escape, without meeting with some things opposed to our immediate views, and which, under all circumstances, we cannot perfectly approve. In such instances, my attention has been invariably directed to what my judgment convinced me would be the ultimate results ; and in all cases my dependence has been placed on the influence of persuasive expedients, keeping the su- preme management in my own hands, and uniting with the clergy and people in the use of such lawful means as I thought calculated to secure the unity and welfare of the Church, and to satisfy them that I have at heart the inte- rests of vital religion, and am as much disposed to promote the advancement of true piety as themselves. " To further the above important objects, I have recom- mended Clerical Associations, on which occasions the clergy most contiguous to each other meet together, and hold re- 103 . MEMOIR OF THE gular services in the parish in which they convene. They in general commence on Thursday, and finish their united duties on the succeeding Sunday, when, after the celebra- tion of the Lord's Supper, they separate. The services are confined exclusively to the clergy of the Church, and the duties are performed by themselves. If the association is held within a reasonable distance I sometimes attend, and always bear as great a portion of the labour as my age and strength will admit of. Such an association will commence to-morrow in , the residence of the Rev. , who is fully of opinion that such meetings are useful, and expedient, and calculated to produce the best possible ef- fects to religion and the Church, indeed such is the opinion of all the clergy of the diocese. I never hesitate to ex- press my aversion to every thing like human management on such occasions. I think it profane to suppose that the aid of the Holy Spirit can be secured in any other way than in the use of the appointed means of grace, and be- lieve that the faithful preaching of the Gospel, preceded by our own services, constitute those means. I am opposed, totally opposed, to' anxious or enquiring benches' as they are called, and think that humble penitents would prefer a private intercourse with their Maker and their own pastor, to an exposure of themselves to public view. " With respect to revivals, as they are termed, I would, as an old man, observe : that every Christian clergyman must be sensible, that there are seasons in which his reli- gious affections are more animated than at other times, and that if this superior animation should influence the minds of his parishioners as well as his own, it is his duty to im- prove the opportunity by an increased faithfulness and zeal in the service of God. It is by such a course that he be- comes (in my opinion) a co-worker with his Maker and Re- LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. ^03 deemer, and discovers his wish to further and promote that good work, which he has reason to beUeve has been begun by that gracious being in whose service he is engaged. In- dividuals, feehng impressed with the necessity of loving God with all their heart, soul, mind, and strength, do not like, and will not consent to have their desires, (desires which they conceive owe their origin to divine influence,) restrain- ed, controlled, and spoken into silence by their fellow mor- tals. They would tell us that the three thousand at the feast of Pentecost were in earnest when they inquired, ' Men and brethren what shall we do V That the Philip- pian jailor felt the weight of his responsibility, when, in distress of mind, he solicited for spiritual direction ; that Mary was engaged, with all the energies of her mind, in seek- ing the salvation of her soul, when she sat, bathed in tears of penitence at the feet of her Redeemer ; they would tell us, that divine grace is, in its operations at this moment, (what it has ever been,) convincing us of sin, producing a repentance to salvation not to be repented of, influencing those to ask for mercy in sincere prayer, who never truly valued the privilege of prayer before, and rendering those who were cold and heartless in the cause of religion, alive to its concerns, and giving rise to a newness of life and con- versation. Individuals who have been virtuously brought up from their infancy, and who have been preserved from those departures from moral and religious duty which cha- racterize the greater part of mankind ; who have been accustomed daily from their childhood to ask the protection of heaven ; who have loved the Saviour from the first dawn- ings of intellect, can form no proper idea of the convictions of those who have wandered far from God, who have pro- faned his name, his Sabbath, and his laws, without being alive to their awful condition ; they can form no idea of 104 MEMOIE OF THE that distress which sometimes takes place in the mind of the offender, when first awakened to a sense of his alarm- ing situation ; they call the necessity of his earnestness in question, because they have never been so deficient in duty as he knows himself to have been ; and consider that en- thusiasm which is really the product of divine grace. On the other hand, an individual thus awakened, very often thinks that others who do not feel as he does, have never experienced the influences of the Holy Spirit; and because they are not equally alarmed with himself, he takes it for granted that their prayers are cold and heartless, and their devotion more a thing of habit than of a spiritual nature. To show to those labouring under such prejudices, the im- propriety of their views, I have told them that Christian experience, however much it may vary in degree, will always, if genuine, produce the same results ; that it will be attended with a supreme love to God, that an obedience to his laws will mark their lives, and that the fruits of the spirit will be manifest in their general deportment ; that if the tree is really of the planting of the Lord, it will pro- duce good iVuit. Such being, as far as my knowledge ex- tends, the general operations of the mind in the two de- scriptions of persons I have mentioned ; it follows of course that the minister of a parish should attend closely to his duties, harmonizing, as far as in his power lies, the two dis- cordant opinions ; uniting those in love and charity, who are in fact children of the same family, pursuing the same object, and whose affections are fixed on things above. Richard Channing Moore." In the years 1810 — 1 1 a controversy of a most unplea- sant and exciting character took place between the Rev. Cave Jones and Dr. Hobart, both assistant ministers of LIFE OF BISHOP UOOBE. 105 Trinity Church, which gave rise to several inflammatory pamphlets, and produced serious divisions among the clergy and laity of the Church in the diocese of New York. The controversy was not allayed by the election and consecra- tion of Dr. Hobart to the episcopate in the year 181 1. But as the diocese then had three Bishops, questions about the right of jurisdiction, arising out of attempts to exercise discipline upon the principal of one party, occasioned much diversity of opinion among distinguished members of the legal as well as clerical profession. It is unnecessary to enter upon the merits of that controversy, which involved the power of a diocesan to divest himself of his office and its prerogatives by resignation, and other important points deeply affecting our ecclesiastical organization. Dr. Moore, in common with other distinguished gentlemen, clerical and lay, was of opinion that the senior bishop. Dr. Provoost, was, notwithstanding his resignation, (for which the Church had then made no provision,) still to be regarded as the rightful diocesan. He also sympathized with the minority as to the other points involved in that painful controversy. But it is a cause of gratitude that the differences between him and Bishop Hobart, arising out of it, were entirely healed by subsequent mutual explanations; and they ever afterwards shared each other's confidence and affection. His ministry in New York was one of commanding in- fluence and most important results. The popularity which he won in the early part of his rectorship in St. Stephen's continued to be enjoyed, without any interruption, till its close. His Church on the Lord's day, and the school- houses where he lectured during the week, were always crowded with solemn and attentive auditories. The pious of every name, delighted, occasionally, to attend upon his soul-stirring ministrations. To serious minded strangers 106 MEMOIR OF THE LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. visiting the city, St. Stephen's was one of the leading points of attraction, and many who were savingly benefited by casually listening to the Gospel which he preached, bore back with them a blessing, and became radiating points of spiritual illumination in the places of their respective abode. In his different excursions to New London, Saratoga, and other country towns, his preaching excited much interest and produced happy results. Wherever he went, he scattered " the good seed," and the extent of its fruitfulness, the great day alone can reveal. Within five years, his little band of twenty communicants had swelled to more than four hundred ; and his thirty families to a congregation large as his Church could contain. Possessed of the respect and love of all his parishioners, he enjoyed as high a share of happiness as any parochial connexion can aflford. He would have desired no greater measure of comfort, satisfac- tion, and pleasure, than to have spent the remainder of his days with that humble but devoted flock. The Lord, however, had a higher and more extensive field of useful- ness for this favoured servant at his altar. As he had been employed in resuscitating a dead, and in repairing a decay- ed parish, he was now to be used as the honoured instru- ment of raising a decayed and prostrate Diocese from a state of desolation and ruin. His election and consecration to the Episcopate of Virginia, and his entrance upon the duties of that higher station, will demand our attention in the following chapter. CHAPTER IV. 1814. The early history of the Church in Virginia. Election of Dr. Griffith as Bishop, in 1786. Bishop Madison, the first Bishop of Virginia, con- secrated in 1790. Deep depression of the Church, and its causes. Apos- tolic character and labours of the Rev. Devereux Jarratt. Dr. Bracken's election in 1812. New era in the Church under the auspices of a few young Clergymen. Erection of the Monumental Church in Richmond — and efforts made to obtain Dr. Moore for its first Rector with a view to his election as Bishop. Correspondence on the subject — including letters from Judge Washington, Bishop Hobart, and others. Propriety and deli- cacy of Dr. Moore's course in respect to it. His election by the Conven- tion and circumstances connected with his consecration in 1814. His removal to Richmond. Previous condition of the Episcopal community there. His great popularity and success. Fidelity in the pulpit and in pastoral yisitation. Presentation to him of a splendid copy of the New Testament by his fellow citizens of all denominations. Summary view of his character and labours as Rector of the Monumental Church. It will not be an inappropriate introduction to our ac- count of the elevation of the subject of this memoir to the Episcopate of Virginia, to take a brief glance at the pre- ceding history of the Church in that Diocese. The estab- lishment of the Church and the propagation of the Gospel among the native tribes of the new world seem to have oc- cupied a prominent place in the views of government and the designs of those who were instrumental in the founding of the first English colony in America. " As far back as 1588, when Sir Walter Raleigh made an assignment of his patent to Thomas Smith and others, he accompanied it with a donation of one hundred pounds ' for the propaga- tion of the Christian religion in Virginia.' It was also en- 108 HEMOIR OF THE joined by the King's instruction * that the presidents, coun- cils and the ministers, should provide that the true word and service of God be preached, planted, and used, not only in the said Colonies, but also as much as might be among the savages bordering upon them, according to the rites and doctrines of the Church of England.' And the first charter assigns as one of the reasons for the grant, that the con- templated undertaking was a work which may, by the providence of Almighty God, hereafter tend to the glory of his divine majesty in propagating the Christian religion to such people as yet live in darkness and miserable igno- rance of the true knowledge and worship of God."* In conformity with these pious designs, the Church was planted with the Colony, at Jamestown, in 1606, and the remains of the old Church tower is almost the only relic which indicates to the traveller the site of the original settlement. In a few years the Rev. Robert Hurst, pastor of Jamestown, was joined by the Rev. Alexander Whitaker, who established the Church at Henrico. By this gentle- man, Pocahontas, the Indian princess, was baptized; and in consequence of his faithful evangelical labours he re- ceived the honourable title of " Apostle of Virginia." In the year 1619, by the first legislative assembly ever con- vened in the province, the Church of England was made the established religion of Virginia, and fixed provision was made by law for the decent support of the clergy. By the appropriating of glebes, the imposition of taxes, and the providing of funds for the establishment of schools and a university — liberal provision was made not only for sustain- ing the services of religion among the Colonists, but also for the extension of its benefits to the benighted Indian tribes • Burk's History of Virginia, Charter, Hazard's State papers, cited by Dr. Hawks. LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 109 by which they were surrounded. From this time the num- ber of ministers and parishes increased as rapidly as could be expected in the infant Colony : and notwithstanding the neglect of the provincial government, the fierce assaults of sectaries, and the prevalence of irreligion and vice, incident to newly settled communities of adventurers, the Church continued to exist, though attended with various fortune until the war of the Revolution. That momentous struggle, deprived it of many of its clergy, and some of its warmest friends among the laity, who left the country from attach- ment to the royal cause, — and the measures which re- sulted in the political independence of the Colonies, left the Church in a state of great feebleness and prostration. In Maryland and Virginia, where the Church, as the estab- lished religion, was sustained by a system of taxation, its hold upon the affections of the people was weaker, and it was more thoroughly crippled by the revolution, than it was in the other provinces, where its existence imposed no involuntary burdens upon the people. As the established religion of an oppressive government, it shared deeply in the odium attached to the royal power by which it had been imposed. Moreover, the character of the clergy who were brought into frequent collision with the provin- cial officers, and with their flocks, in the enforcement of their legal claims to support, became more secularized, and was less virtuous and exemplary than that of the clergy in the other provinces; who, as missionaries, were responsible for their good behaviour to the societies in whose service they laboured, — and who depended for their support upon the Christian bounty of the mother country. There was presented in the American Colonies the anomaly of an Episcopal Church, comprising hundreds of ministers and congregations, without a resident Bishop on i2 110 MEMOIR OF THE the continent, and for the space of more than one hundred and fifty years subject to no Episcopal supervision or con- trol that could be at all effective. It is true that the Bishop of London had nominal jurisdiction over the Churches in the provinces, and occasionally imposed some restraints and exerted some salutary influence through the medium of his commissaries. But in the absence of all pro- per discipline, many of the clergy not only became negli- gent in the performance of the spiritual duties of their of- fice, but brought discredit upon their profession by indulg- ing in the vices and dissipations of the world. Notwithstanding the very depressed state of the Church in Virginia, arising chiefly from the causes which have been adverted to, it was organized into an ecclesiastical body by the calling of a convention, soon after the close of the revolutionary war; and an early attempt was made to complete its organization and secure episcopal services, by the election, in 1786, of the Rev. David Grif- fith, of Fairfax parish, to the office of Bishop. But we have melancholy proof of the slender attachment of the people to the Church and its divine institutions, in the fact, that the convention did not furnish the means necessary to defray the expenses of the Bishop-elect in proceeding to England to procure consecration ; and as his own resources were too limited to enable him to bear the expense himself, Dr. Griflith was not consecrated ; and in 1789 he resigned the honourable appointment to which the suffrages of the Convention had called him. It was not until one hundred and eighty-four years after it was first planted at James- town, that the Church in Virginia received its first Bishop, in the person of the Right Rev. James Madison,'D. D., who was elected by the convention in 1790, and consecrated at Lambeth, in September of the same year. LIFE or BISHOP MOOBE. Ill Bishop Madison seems to have entered upon the duties of his office with a sincere desire to elevate the character of the Church, and to employ a commendable zeal in the prosecution of such measures as would be likely to promote its prosperity. In his addresses to the convention he ex- horted the clergy to fidelity, activity, and energy in the performance of the various duties of their sacred func- tion, enforced upon the laity the duty of contributing to the support of the ministry and other institutions of reli- gion, recommended the catechising of children, the distri- bution of religious tracts, and other etforts which seemed well adapted to advance the interests of truth and piety in the diocese. But however wise and judicious were his schemes, and however serious his purpose to have them carried into ex&ution, it is certain that the result was in no wise answerable to his anticipations and desires. The deep-rooted prejudices against the Church grew and strengthened. The minds of men, animated by the spirit of revolution — and too often mistaking licentiousness for liberty — burned with hatred towards every thing connect- ed with the government whose yoke they had cast off, and seemed disposed to break loose from all restraints, those of religion and virtue not excepted. The mad demon of blas- pheming infidelity, which had rode upon the whirlwind of the French Revolution, was welcomed as an angel of light and freedom by the leading civilians of Virginia. And it was no difficult matter to persuade the vulgar to treat with abuse and violence the sacred things which their superiors and leaders contemptuously despised. The sectaries had long viewed the Church with jealousy, suspicion and hatred, and were willing to combine with the enemies of all religion to strip her of her inheritance and lay her dignity in the dust. This alliance of sectarianism and infidelity in the prosecu- 112 MEMOIR OF THE tion of a common object, having succeeded in procuring a repeal of the law incorporating the Episcopal Church in Virginia, paused not in the prosecution of its end till it had obtained a sacrilegious enactment confiscating the glebes and other property of the Church to the uses of the state. In the midst of these adverse and counteracting influ- ences the course of the Church in Virginia was constantly retrograde. Like a strong man, she staggered under the heavy blows inflicted by her enemies, in rapid succession one after another, till at length, exhausted and spiritless, she fell prostrate in the dust. Bishop Madison himself seems to have yielded to the spirit of the times. Despondency led to an entire remission of eflbrt; — for several successive years not even a convention was called, or a single com- bined attempt made to preserve the Church from irretrieva- ble ruin. During fifteen years of his episcopate, the state of ecclesiastical aflfairs had becom.e more and more disas- trous ; and then he seemed to be like a pilot with his ship among the breakers, who, in despair of escape, resigns the helm, in expectation that his noble barque will soon lie stranded as a shattered wreck upon the shore. Need we dwell longer upon the melancholy scene of spiritual barrenness and desolation which that period of our ecclesiastical history presents to view? Need we more minutely recapitulate the painful tale which the faithful pen of history has recorded in part, and the disgraceful re- mainder of which the busy, restless tongue of tradition has not sutTered to be forgotten 1 Need we say more of the poor inheritance of unwatchful shepherds and slumbering flocks — the only relic of a proud establishment that had survived the revolution ? Need we speak of careless gene- rations who suffered churches to sink in ruins, ecclesiasti- cal property to be scattered to the winds — and, in some LIF£ OF BISHOP MOOSE. 113 instances, profanely used the sacred vessels of the sanc- tuary in their bacchanalian orgies ?* No : we need advert no farther to a former state of things which renders it almost a miracle that the Church was not utterly extermi- nated in Virginia. Nought but pure gold could have abided the test of such a fiery ordeal. No tree except that which the hand of the Lord hath planted could have sur- vived the withering effects of such a storm. But low and prostrate as was the condition of the Church at the time of which we now write, there were some few " faithful among the faithless found." Some humble pastors of the flock who, in the retirement of their parishes, resisted the influence of the times, and conscientiously per- formed their duty, without the praise of men, content only with the approbation of their Lord. Among them there was one upon whose memory the shades of oblivion should never settle, for in the darkest period of the Church's history, he was " a burning and shining light ;" and so long as truth and holiness continue to be prized in the Church of Virginia, the thoughts of her devout sons will dwell with grateful veneration upon the name of Devereux Jarratt. This extraordinary man, who was self-educated under the most discouraging circumstances, after his conversion, devoted himself to the work of preparation for the ministry with such success that the Bishop of London, who ordained him, comphmented him by saying, that according to the testimony of Dr. Jortin, and others who examined him, he passed his trials better than some graduates of Oxford and Cajnbridge who received ordination at the same time. *In one instance a marble baptismal font was converted into a watering trough for horses; and in more than one the communion cups were pro- faned to the same purposes to which Belshazzar degraded the vessels of the temple at Jerusalem. 1 14 MEMOIR OF THE Having received priest's orders in one week after he was ordained deacon, at Christmas, 1762, he returned to Virginia, and in the following August was unanimously received as minister of the parish of Bath, Dinwiddle county. Mr. Jarratt was a fearless and zealous advocate of the great doctrines of the cross, and an uncompromising opposer of all those worldly vices and pleasures which are incon- sistent with the Christian profession. He brought strange things to the ears of his people ; and his style of preaching, so entirely different from any thing to which they had been accustomed, awakened the enmity of their carnal hearts, and brought forth decided manifestations of hostility. But in his case, as in all others, the preaching of the pure and unadulterated Gospel, while it encountered the enmity of men, was followed by the blessing of God. He preached the Gospel amidst the effusions of the Holy Ghost. Many were convinced of sin, and led to inquire " what must we do to be saved?" Souls were converted to God; and at every communion season " the Lord added to the Church of such as should be saved." When Mr. Jarratt looked around him and contemplated the desolations of Zion, his heart yearned within him, as did that of his Master, when gazing upon the multitudes, he had compassion on them, because they were scattered as sheep having no shepherd. His large soul, glowing with zeal for the salvation of men, and the glory of Christ, could not rest satisfied while his la- bours were confined to the limits of a single parish. He therefore went on enlarging the sphere of his operations, till it embraced a circuit of hundreds of miles; and he be- came daily employed in preaching to anxious and solemn congregations, in different and distant places, the words of eternal life. He found great delight in thus " doing the work of an Evangelist." His vigorous mind, lively imagi- LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 115 nation, powerful voice, and commanding eloquence, pre- eminently qualified him for this species of clerical occupa- tion ; and his itinerating labours awakened a deep interest in the inhabitants of the district favoured with them, second only to that produced by those of Whitefield on a more extended scale. His converts were exceedingly numerous. It was not uncommon for him, on sacramental occa- sions, to administer the Lord's Supper to as many as nine hundred or a thousand communicants, who, in the judgment of charity, were meet recipients of that holy mystery. There are a few aged disciples still living in Virginia, who acknowledge Jarratt as their spiritual father. Their countenances kindle with pleasure, and their eyes sparkle with joy at the mention of his name; and the comparison which they make between his services and those of modern ministers, is any thing but complimentary to the clergy of this generation. These reminiscences, however, ought doubtless to be received with some qualifications ; like all others which connect themselves with the vivid impres- sions of youth and childhood. The spirit of this apostolic man was too uncompromising and zealous to receive much sympathy from his contem- poraries. There could be no strong affinity between him and a class of ecclesiastics who deemed it a hardship to forego the customary pleasures of the world, and a work of supererogation even to attempt any thing more than the perfunctory discharge of the duties of their office. Mr. Jarratt was treated with too much indifference, not to say contempt, by many of his clerical brethren, to take a very active part in the public business or legislation of the diocese. He never attended more than two or three conventions. At one of these, held in Richmond, 1792, he preached the opening sermon. And never, perhaps, 116 ' MEMOIK OF THE was there a more faithful exhibition of the spirit of the Christian minister, of the doctrines he should preach, of his awful responsibility, and of the eternal consequences of his labours either in weal or woe to himself and his hearers, than in the discourse pronounced upon that occasion. At that Convention he was appointed on a committee to devise means for carrying into effect certain canons relating to discipline ; and immediately after it was desired to assist in the examination of some candidates for orders. But find- ing that there was no disposition to render the discipline of the Church efficacious, and that his refusal, " for good rea- sons," to recommend two of the candidates, did not prevent their ordination, he retired, in sorrow and disgust, and thought himself excused for absenting himself from Con- ventions ever afterwards. Still his labours for the benefit of the Church within his appropriate sphere, were diligent and unwearied as be- fore, till arrested by disease, he sunk to rest 29th January, 1801, sustained in death by the hopes and consolations of that Gospel which it had been the joy of his life to pro- claim to others. His life, written by himself, in a series of letters to his friend, the Rev. Mr. Coleman, of Maryland, while it calls us to grieve over the corruption of human nature in the records it contains of the opposition he encountered from brethren of his own household, and of the ingratitude and treachery of some Methodist preachers, whose labours he countenanced and favoured, till he discovered that they had made a schism in the Church ; calls us also to magnify the grace of God displayed in the instructive experience and successful ministry of one of the most favoured of his servants. This autobiography, and three volumes of ser- mons, published after his death, by some editor who was LIFE OF BISHOP MOOKE. 117 illy qualified to prepare them for the press, are all that re- main of the productions of that eminent and holy man. If John Wickliff be appropriately styled the " morning star of the Reformation" in England, Devereux Jarratt may be no less truly called the morning star of the revival of the Church in Virginia. We hope this hasty sketch will not be deemed a censurable digression. We could not, perhaps, say more, consistently with the object of the present work ; we could not have said less, with justice to our theme. If the " witness" of the departed be " in heaven, and his record on high," it is but right that a me- morial of him should be sacredly preserved upon earth. The names of Jarratt and Moore may be associated here as their spirits will be there. In the year 1812, after having occupied the Episcopal office for more than twenty-one years. Bishop Madison de- parted this life. Soon after his decease, the Convention, which had not met since 1805, was assembled, chiefly, it is presumed, for the purpose of electing a successor. The Rev. John Bracken, D. D., was duly elected, but was in- duced by circumstances, afterwards to decline the appoint- ment. In the journal of the Convention for this year, the name of the Rev. William Meade appears, for the first time, as Rector of Christ Church, Alexandria. This young man, connected with some of the more wealthy and influential families in Virginia, having been educated at Nassau Hall, in New Jersey, and brought, at an early period of life, to know the truth, and experience the converting power of the Gospel, sympathized with the pious few scattered throughout the diocese, who, mourning over the desolations of Zion, " thought upon her stones, and favoured the dust thereof." Soon after his ordination to the ministry, he appeared in the Convention of 1812, to X 118 MEMOIR OF THE bear part in its deliberations, and fully purposed to devote his talents, fortune, and influence to the good work of re* viving the Church of his fathers. The Rev. John Dunn, the Rev. William H. Wilmer, and the Rev. Oliver Norris, (the two latter of whom had come from Maryland in com- pliance with the solicitations of Mr. M.,) zealously co- operated with him in his holy enterprise ; and several lay- men of distinction were persuaded also to take an active part in ecclesiastical affairs. So rapid and effective was the success of this movement, that in the Convention of 1813, there seems to have been a retirement of those who had previously governed its operations. The Rev. John Dunn, William H. Wilmer, Oliver Norris, the Hon. Bush- rod Washington, Nicholas Fitzhugh, and Edmund I. Lee, Esqrs., were elected the Standing Committee of the diocese. The following resolutions exhibit the first fruits of that new and better influence which had now been brought to bear upon the interests of truth and piety in the Church of Virginia. They afTorded the earnest of a deter- mination to active energy in the cause of God, which has ever since been vigorously maintained. In them we be- hold the dawning of a light which has continued to shine with increasing brightness from that day to the present. " Whereas, from the destitute state of the churches in •this state, many piously disposed persons who are attached to the doctrine, worship, and discipline of the Protestant Episcopal Church, are deprived of the means of worship- ping God according to her venerable forms, to the great un- happiness of themselves, as well as to the great detriment of the Church at large; Resolved, therefore. That it is expedient to raise a fund for the purpose of aiding in the support of such clergymen *of piety and talents as may be obtained to perform divine LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 119 service in such districts in the state as may be assigned to them by the Convention. Resolved, That the clergy and vestry, or any influen- tial members in the several parishes in the State, be, and are hereby requested, to use their best endeavours, either by subscriptions or otherwise, to promote this object. Resolved, That the members of this Church, generally, are hereby most earnestly entreated to consider the ne- cessity oi adopting zealous measures for the restoration of religion among us; that they endeavour to manifest their gratitude to Almighty God, and their sense of the awful importance of his blessed revelation ; that they con- sider the unspeakable rewards they will receive from that gracious Master to whom they belong, whose goodness demands the warmest returns of love, duty, and obedience; and that they will contribute to the utmost in their power to render this most acceptable service to his cause. Resolved, That the Standing Committee do frame an address on the state of the Church ; and that they cause to be printed thereof two hundred copies, and to address them in the form of a circular letter, and accompanied by the journal, to the Minister and Vestry of each parish, and to such other persons as may be likely, in their judgment, to promote the interests of the Church." It was evident, however, to those who had thus ener- getically entered upon the good work of restoring a pros- trate Church, that the noble object of their desire would never be accomplished but under the supervision, and through the divinely instituted agency of an Episcopal head. But the active clergy of the diocese were all too young for the office. Their attention, of course, was direct- ed to some other quarter ; and although Dr. Moore was personally a stranger in Virginia, yet those upon whom 120 MEMOIR OF THE Providence had devolved the principal managennent of diocesan concerns were perfectly united in him as the man of their choice. There was no fund for the support of a Bishop ; and but a single congregation in the state that would be able to elect him as its rector with the offer of a suitable maintenance. That was the congregation of the Monumental Church, Richmond, who were then erecting a costly edifice upon ihe site of the theatre destroyed Dec. 2Gth, 1811, by a fearful conflagration, in which more than one hundred persons had been consumed; being sum- moned as in the twinkling of an eye from a gay spectacle of worldly amusement into the presence of their Judge ! It was an event which carried sorrow into many a domes- tic circle. The citizens were prompted by it to the speedy erection of an edifice which would at once commemorate that fearful visitation of God's judgment, and at the same time furnish them with more suitable accommodations in humbling themselves before him in acts of penitence, sup- plication, and praise. The leading friends of the Church at once set themselves at work to obtain Dr. Moore's consent to be elected as rector of the principal Church in the Metropolis,^, and Bishop of the Diocese. They commenced their efforts be- fore Dr. Bracken officially made known his declinature to the Convention of 1813. The first letter addressed to him upon the subject was dated in January of that year. But the history of the whole negotiation, the earnestness with which the appeal was prosecuted on their part, and the delicacy and discretion manifested on his, will be most readily and satisfactorily learned from a perusal of the correspondence itself. LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 121 LETTERS ON REMOVING TO THE EPISCOPATE OF VIRGINIA. January 27th, 1813. Rev. and Dear Sir, — We have good reason for believing that the Rev. Dr. Bracken, elected Bishop of Virginia will decline consecration. In that event we shall have to turn our attention to some other person suitable to fill that holy and important office. But really. Sir, Virginia presents not, in our estimation, one, in whom the qualities essential for such an office unite. In the consideration of this melancho- ly fact, the Rev. Mr. Meade and I take the liberty of opening a confidential communication with you upon this subject; should you think proper to encourage our wishes, we shall take care to proceed in a manner likely to obviate (in case of disappointment) the delicate embarrassments to which your feelings might be subjected. Richmond is now vacant, and would offer a favourable situation for the residence of a Bishop. Could you pay it a visit, it would, I doubt not, facilitate the object we have in view. The inhabitants of that place have, I hope, derived some advan- tage from their calamities, and are desirous of obtaining a man of zeal and piety. It would be a great pity that these poor lacerated lambs should fall into the hands of an un- faithful Shepherd. Besides this, Richmond, in its relation to the other parts of Virginia, is an infinitely important situation ; it is the heart, and if it be unsound, the body and extremities must of course be unhealthful. It is right to remark, however, that the probable salary at that place may not be equal to that of New York. But there is no doubt that a faithful discharge of the itinerary duties of a Diocesan would command an increase of salary adequate to your wishes. The state of the Church in Virginia is indeed most deplorable. e2 122 MEMOIR OF THE The desolations of many generations are to be repaired; yet the prepossessions throughout the state are remarkably in favour of Episcopal principles and worship, and amidst the widely extended ruin, furnish a foundation for the hope that, under pure and faithful men, her walls might be built up, and herself advanced to a grade equal, at least, to that of her sister Churches. The task, though arduous, is noble and glorious, and as such has claim to the favourable con- sideration of those whom God hath endowed with talents for so great a work. I wish you could make a visit to Richmond this winter. I cannot express the idea of import- ance, which belongs to the right management of the Church there. It is the place of meeting for the legislature: tbe resort of persons from all parts of the state, and conse- quently the state of the Church there, would affect most materially, if not form, its character and influence through- out Virginia. I have a threefold motive to urge me in the request that you would pay it a visit soon : one of which, though the least, is, the pleasure it would afford to Your affectionate brother in the Gospel, W. H. WiLMER. REPLY. No Date. Rev. and Dear Sir, — The important nature of the com- munication with which you have favoured me, must apolo- gize to you for any apparent neglect with which my long silence may have impressed your mind. The subject is of a description so serious, and involves in it such weighty con- siderations, that I have not, until within a few days, been prepared to give you an answer. There are no privations of a personal nature, to which I would not cheerfully sub- mit, were T persuaded that my labours among you would LIFE OP BISHOP MOOBE. 123 be productive of those good effects which you so fondly an- ticipate. From the duties attached to the office in question, however arduous and extensive, I should not for a moment shrink, were I assured that Divine Providence had fixed upon me as the individual to extend the interests of his Church, and to repair the desolations of which you so feel- ingly complain : but as the way appears to me so obscured by doubts, I dare not venture to comply, lest after having embarked in that cause, I should be denied that assistance without which the labours of a Paul would prove barren and unprofitable. With respect to the maintenance I should receive, I entertain no fears, as I firmly believe that a faithful man would be furnished with every necessary support. To live in luxury and pomp, a Christian Bishop has no claim ! but while he serves his Master with fideUty, things convenient will be afforded him. Elijah's God will be his God, the barrel of meal, and the cruse of oil will be for- bidden to fail. Be pleased to accept my sincere thanks for the good opinion which you entertain of me. May that God whom we serve in the Gospel direct your attention to some person better qualified for the office in contemplation! May the solemn trust be confided to no m.an to whose heart the Saviour is not precious, the chief among ten thousand, and altogether lovely ! Present my sincere respects to my Rev. brother, Mr. Meade, and accept for yourself the assurance of that affection with which I remain Your Brother in the Gospel of the Lord Jesus, R. C. Moore. 124 MEMOIR OF THE Alexandria, March 4th, 1813. Rev. Sir, — Let the importance of the subject excuse a stranger in addressing you. I was associated with Mr. Wilmer in writing you a letter concerning our unhappy Church, and. the city of Richmond, the one wanting a head, and the other a pastor. A few days since an unwelcome answer was received, and yet I cannot despair, because I think that God yet means well to us. I do not wonder at your doubts, fears, and backwardness; but these, I think, will all give way when you shall come and visit us, and see how things stand. The object of this letter is to persuade you to make us a visit as soon as you conveniently can. I hope and believe, Sir, that you have given yourself up to God, and that you wish to serve him, and desire to know and do his will. This is all we want of you, to come and see if it be not God's will that you abide among us. I doubt not you will be informed truly of God. Now, Sir, is the trying and critical moment. Now is to be decided whether God means to keep a remnant of our Church alive among us, or to destroy it entirely. The town of Rich- mond contains by far the largest body of Episcopalians in the Southern country. If some one of suitable talents and real piety does not go there, it will either fall into the hands of some miserable creature, (many of whom have already been fawning for it) or, if a clever Presbyterian should offer, they will throw away Episcopacy, and fall under his banners. And if Episcopacy dies there, at the heart, of course it dies elsewhere. This is the central place: here each winter the assembly of the state . sits. The supreme court, and the Convention of the clergy meet here also. You would have a large and respectable congregation; hitherto they have not heard the truth, but now I believe they are well- LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 125 disposed to receive it, and would despise the man who should not declare it. I received a letter from one of its members a few days since ; I will repeat his own words : " From your character of Dr. Moore, I have no question of his being invited to take charge of our flock, provided he would visit us and preach to us. Before the ensuing au- tumn some proper person must be fixed on, or there is an end of episcopacy in the metropolis of Virginia." Your election to the high office of Bishop, I have no doubt, would follow your acceptance of the Church in Richmond, and here also in time you might be of great service. If ever our Church is doomed to rise, it must begin by a Bishop of zeal and talents fixed in Richmond. No evil can ensue from your visiting us, much good may. I think, Sir, you ought to take the subject into serious consideration, and consider not only the good that may be done by coming, but the evil that might follow from not coming. Certain I am, that unless we have a Bishop of real piety, zeal, and talents in Richmond, episcopacy is gone forever. If such a person was there, I think it highly probable, from present circumstances, that in many places she would rise from the dust. Believe me, Your friend and brother, Wm. Meade. reply to mr. meade. No date. " Rev. and dear Sir : — In reflecting upon the plan pro- posed to me by Mr. Wilmer and yourself, I have in vain looked for those evidences, which were necessary to con- 126 MEMOIR OF THE vince me that it was my duty to acquiesce. Had I con- sented to the proposition, I must have done so without that full persuasion which was necessary to my own quiet. My advances, therefore, would have been so tremulous that your 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 upon my conscience, it would have required more than a human arm to have arrested me in the prosecution of the measure ; but want- ing that evidence, I have taken it for granted that your partialities have misled you, and that I am not the indi- vidual calculated for the work. To be instrumental in raising Zion from her ruins, and in repairing her waste and desolate places ; to be instrumental in advamcing the Redeemer's kingdom, and in bringing sinners to the fold of Jesus, is a work in which my soul delights, and wherever I have seen a solitary individual grounding his weapons of rebellion, and lifting up the voice of supplication to the throne of Grace, my heart has vibrated with pleasure, and I have sung and given praise with the best member that I have. How much more should I exult in seeing your Church shaking herself from the dust, divested of the spirit of hea- viness, and putting on those beautiful garments, in which Zion will appear when in a state of prosperity and joy. I hope you will pardon my long silence, for, rely upon it, that if your subject had been of less importance it should have been immediately attended to, but involving in it such deep considerations, I have not been able to answer you one moment sooner. Believe me, in great truth. Your brother in Christ, Richard Channing Moore. LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 127 Alexandria, Nov. 19th, 1813. Kev. Sir, — The founders of the new Episcopal Church in the city of Richmond in Virginia, being anxious that it should be filled by a clergyman of talents, respectability and piety, have done us the honour of requesting us to in- vite, in their names, such a character to visit them, with a view of engaging him to accept of the charge. From the inquiries we have made of those whose opinions are enti- tled to great respect, as to the proper character to fill so important a station, we consider you as the person best -suited to the place, and object of our friends. Under this impression, we, on behalf and in the name of the Episcopal congregation in Richmond, ask the favour of you to visit the people of that congregation. It is the wish and desire, not only of the members of the Richmond Church, but of others belonging to the Episcopal Churches in the state of Virginia, that whoever is fixed as the established minister of that Church, should be appointed Bishop of the State. -If it should be consistent with your views to accept this in- vitation, we have reason to expect you will find induce- ments to make Richmond your place of residence, and that an ample field of usefulness will then be opened unto you. Your early reply will much oblige us. We are, Rev. Sir, Your most obt. servants, BusHROD Washington, Edmund I. Lee. TO BUSHROD WASHINGTON, ESQ. New York, Dec. 16th, 1813. Dear Sir, — The situation in which Providence hath placed me, and the blessings with which my labours in this 128 MEMOIR OF THE city have been attended, would render me extremely cul- pable, were 1 to listen to any invitation, or consent to any change, except such an one as bore the evident traces of his own divine appointment. The destinies of my life I have long since submitted to the God I serve ; it is there- fore my duty, and I can assert with truth that it is my in- clination, to be disposed of agreeably to his will. Could I be convinced that the sphere of my usefulness would be en- larged, or the cause of the Redeemer be promoted, by my removal to Virginia, I should think it criminal to hesitate a moment, or to indulge the least fear or apprehension. Your address to me upon the subject has excited my deep- est attention, and has led me to seek most ardently for the direction of heaven upon the occasion, and although I can- not consent to visit Richmond as you propose, still I should not feel myself justifiable, were I to decline altogether the propositions you have made me. With respect to pecu- niary matters, my present establishment is so comfortable, that I stand in need of no change ; under this impression it would be imprudent in me to risk the alienation of my peo- ple's regard, by looking for a settlement which perhaps may not be within the control of my friends at the south- ward: for a man, Sir, who has seen fifty years, to rush into such an experiment, would betray, in my opinion, a want of those solid principles necessary to preserve the confidence of my old friends, and to secure the good opinion of those with whose acquaintance I may hereafter be honoured ; in addition to which evil it would discover also a wish to lead, instead of being led by Providence. Should the congrega- tion of the Episcopal Church at Richmond, from the repre- sentations of character which they may have received of me, think proper to call me as their rector, with a suitable support, and should the Convention of the state unite in my LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 129 election to the episcopate, I should think it my duty to make them as early a visit as possible in order to converse with tlie leading members of the Church upon the subject, and to come to an immediate conclusion re- specting the expediency of my removal. The Church in Virginia, I have been informed, is from a variety of cir- cumstances in a depressed situation. Should it fall to my lot to be appointed to watch over her interests, my utmost energies shall be exerted in repairing her waste and deso- late places : it is the society. Sir, into whose bosom I was received at my baptism, and in whose religious peculiari- ties I have been educated from my infancy. To see her lay by her weeds and put on her beautiful garments, in which Zion in her prosperity shall be arrayed, would con- vey to my mind sensations of the purest joy. To promote this object, fidelity in her clergy is an indispensable requi- site. To produce this effect they must be labourers indeed in the Vineyard of the Redeemer. Believe me, dear Sir, &c. Richard Channing Moore. Alexandria, Dec. 28th, 1813. Rev. and dear Sir, — The same mail which conveys this contains one also from the Standing Committee. We ar- dently desire the supply of Richmond with a faithful and evangelical minister, and the Church with an apostolic Bishop. Such have been the representations of character in your behalf, as to authorise the expectation of seeing in you these qualities exemplified. The Church in Virginia is in a peculiar situation. Its having been once the esta- blished Church, the prevalence and virulence of other de- nominations, the sequestration of its glebes, the irregularity 130 MEMOIR OF THE of the lives of its ministers, and various political causes have combined to swell high the tide of public opinion and indeed of odium against her public form of service, her surplices, and all the paraphernalia of clerical costume. Although this sentiment does not prevail in all its force in this place, or in Richmond, yet they present powerful ob- stacles to the Episcopal ministry. Under these circum- stances, and to hearts thus constructed, it appears to me that no man can carry our forms, in all their rubrical rigour? with any prospect of success. He must give it to them gradually as they can bear it, he must deal with them as with babes, with discretion and zeal correct their taste, and strengthen their appetite until they can digest stronger food. If there be not a discretionary power in the clergy, verily I know not who will be innocent in these matters. This discretion, I am well aware, should be exercised with great caution, and with a solemn view to the responsibility of evading a rule sanctioned by the Church, and our ordi- nation vows. We want a Bishop who will watch over his clergy with tears and tenderness; who will be an example as well as teacher to his flock ; who will know nothing among us '•' save Jesus Ciirist and him crucified ;" and who while he inculcates a due reverence for our venerable forms of doctrine, discipline, and worship, as being of apos- tolic authority, will at the same time direct his best ener- gies towards the end of all religious institutions, namely, the deliverance of immortal souls from hell. Such a bishop will have our co-operation, our love, and our prayers. It was, therefore, with heart-felt pleasure, we received the first intimation of hope that the Church could procure you. Sir, in whom we believe these qualities to unite, as our diocesan. In these sentiments, I think I speak those of the clergy and laity of my acquaintance in this state, and had LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 131 we been so unfortunate as to obtain a Bishop of other views, the genius and temper of Virginia would have rendered his offices as disagreeable to him, as they would have been in- efficacious to the prosperity of the Church over which he presided. Permit me to add my own opinion and wishes to those of the Standing Committee in relation to your making them a speedy visit at Richmond. I am, dear sir, &c., W. H. WiLMER. New York, Jan. 8th, 1814. Rev, and Dear Sir, — The prejudices which are enter- tained by many of the Virginians, against the services of the Church, and the appropriate costume of the clergy afJbrd matter of considerable surprise to a person bred in this part of the union. Every denomination of Christians possesses some distinguished feature by which they are known, and it appears to me that the people would have reason to be displeased, were their clergymen so far to aber- rate from these peculiarities of their religious profession, as to lose sight of those marks by which they have always been characterized. Educated in the bosom of the Epis- copal Church, I have always been taught to entertain the most profound respect for all her services: her liturgy, in particular, forming the very expression of that devotion in which my forefathers worshipped God, is peculiarly dear to me ! In addition to which, the consideration of my ordi- nation vows binds me to the public observance of it, by a tie which it would be criminal to rend asunder. Let the ministers of the Church tread in the steps of their Divine Master ! Let them visit the sick, and bind up the broken- 132 MEMOIR OF THE hearted ! Let the poor of Christ's flock be the objects of their care ! Let such be their conduct, and I will venture to predict that the mountains of opposition will in a little time become a plain, the Prayer-book will be venerated, our ceremonies approved, the cause of the Church be pro- moted, and penitent sinners will seek for an asylum in our bosoms, and attach themselves to the standard of our profession. Should I ever settle among you, I trust that the Lord Jesus will go with me to bless me. The moment the people of Richmond choose me as their Rector, I will make arrangements to visit them. It rests very much with themselves to afford me the pleasure of seeing and convers- ing with you. Believe me, yours, &.C., Richard Channing Moore. Ret. W. H. Wilmer. EXTRACT OF A LETTER. Alexandria, Dec. 18th, 1813, " I hope God will enable you to make up your mind very soon, and that you will lose no time, but come on as soon as possible. I think it important for you to visit the Church at Richmond, from all I know and have heard upon the subject : you are the very person who will be their choice ; and, further, our Church here is without a diocesan, and you may rest assured, my dear sir, that you are the cler- gyman who will meet the wishes of a great majority. " Yours, &c., 0. NORRIS." Alexandria, March 9th, 1814. Rev. and Dear Sir, — Your favour of the 5th came duly to hand. I can well conceive, sir, and I assure you I enter LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 133 with lively interest into the delicate considerations suggest- ed in your letter. If any serious opposition to our views were apprehended, I should feel it due to you to make known those difficulties. But as far as I am acquainted, there is no serious difficulty to be anticipated. Mr. Meade, Mr. Norris, Mr. Dunn, Mr. McGuire, a candidate for orders, now officiat- ing at Fredericksburg, with his delegation, are all favour- able to our wishes. Much reliance is placed on these gentle- men, and those with whom I have the pleasure of being asso- ciated in the Standing Committee, for the great influence they possess throughout the State. The other gentlemen of the clergy, I am not well acquainted with, except Mr. Boggs, and Mr. Woodville. I have not had an opportunity of sounding them upon the subject, but presume, from the general tenor of their sentiments and conduct, that they would be with us. But it is our general opinion that these facilities will be much increased by your attendance at our State Convention. Yours, &c. &c., W. H. WiLMER. New York, December 18th, 1813. Dear Sir, — The Rev. Dr. Moore, of this city, has con- sulted me on the subject of the overtures which he has received from Virginia. The situation of our Church in that state has long excited the lively sympathy of all her friends. It must be evident that she can be raised, as a Church, from her present depressed condition, only by the blessing of God on the labours of a pious and zealous clergy, who, faithfully fulfilling their ordination vows, inculcate her evangelical doctrines, and steadfastly adhere to her apos- tolic order and primitive worship. These are the views, I am happy to find, which Dr. Moore entertains, and the L 2 134 MEMOIR OF THE principles by which, should he remove to Virginia, it is his determination to regulate his conduct. It gives me plea- sure, therefore, to assure you, that should his settlement in Virginia be effected, his brethren here cherish the san- guine hope that his ministrations will be greatly instrumen- tal in the promotion of real religion, agreeably to the pure and primitive institutions of our Church, and thus, in raising that Church from her present depressed situation. An ad- ditional pledge of this happy event is afforded by the con- fidence which the communications to him authorize, that the holy and interesting cause of reviving the Church in Virginia, has already engaged the active zeal, not only of many of her clergy, but of distinguished laymen, whose counsel and co-operation cannot fail of producing the hap- piest effects. I have written this letter, of which you can make what use you think proper, with the knowledge of Dr. Moore, and also the enclosed, which I must beg you to transmit to Richmond. With my respects to the clergy of our Church in your city, I remain, dear sir. Your friend and obedient servant, J. H. HoBART. Edmund I. Lee, Esq. December 31st, 1813. Dear Sir, — Your communications concerning Dr. Moore I have received, and am well pleased with; I think his conduct very correct. His proposals raise him in my estimation. I think we may venture to assure him of the office of Bishop. I hope the people of Richmond will accept his terms ; if they are wise, or if God yet smiles on Episcopacy, LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 135 they will gladly take him. I believe I shall write to Dr. Brockenborough on the subject. Dr. Moore should be in Richmond before April. I am truly sorry that you will be absent when 1 come down. God willing, nothing prevent- ing, 1 shall be there toward the last of next week. I shall certainly be often at your house. With prayers for the welfare of your soul, and the hap- piness of your present life, I remain your sincere friend, William JVJeade. Mr. Edmund I. Lee, Alexandria, D. C. TO THE REV. W. H. WILMER. March, 23d, 1814. The attempt which I made to visit you last month has excited a great sensation in the minds of my congregation in this city, several of whom have discovered a temper very unsuitable, and totally unmerited by me; for Heaven is my witness, how ardently and unceasingly I have endea- voured to ascertain the will of God, respecting the concern to which our attention has been called. Not a resolution have I adopted, nor a step have 1 taken, without looking for that direction, both from Heaven and my brethren, so necessary in a matter of such infinite importance. From the experience which I have derived from a variety of sources, I have concluded that it would be extremely hazardous for me to see Virginia prior to the meeting of your next Convention ; for should you be disappointed in your expectations, the reception which I should meet on my return, I plainly perceive, would infinitely distress me: not that I believe the generality of my flock would act 136 MEMOIR OF THE unkindly towards me, or be indisposed duly to appreciate my motives, but as all men are not equally benevolent, some would be found to act in a manner inimical to my peace and comfort. The business, my beloved sir, must, therefore, rest upon the basis of that answer, which I re- turned to the letter I received from Judge Washington, viz : *' should the congregation at Richmond choose me as their Rector, with a suitable support, and should the Church of Virginia elect me to the Episcopate, my utmost energies shall be exerted to promote the happiness and prosperity of both." Philadelphia, April 7th, 1814. Rev. and Dear Sir, — When I left Alexandria, we were anxiously expecting your arrival at that place, on your way to Richmond. Until this morning, I had supposed that you had passed on, and was regretting to Dr. Blackwell and Mr. Kemper, that I had lost the pleasure of seeing you, when they informed me that you had declined making your visit to Virginia, previous to the meeting of the Convention. With the most respectful deference to your judgment, I think that a visit to Richmond, prior to the meeting of the Convention, would be in itself a proper measure. I know it would be highly gratifying to the Episcopalians of that city ; and I cannot believe that it would in any respect violate that delicacy which I know to be attached to your character, and which I understand has principally in- fluenced your decision on this occasion. I should consider it not unreasonable, that those who are desirous of filling the highest station in the Church with a person most fit to discharge the functions of it, should be indulged in the wish they would naturally feel to hear him preach, and to form LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 137 a personal acquaintance with him. I should hope that any objection would appear to you insufficient to prevent your going on as early in this month as your convenience will permit. I ought to observe that the expectation of our friends in Richmond, on this subject, is founded upon our letters to them, staling that it was your intention to visit them — which we confidently calculated would take place during the last or the present month. lam, dear sir, &c., BusHROD Washington. New York, April 25th, 1814. My Dear Sir, — I have furnished the Rev. Dr. Moore with the testimonial required by the canons in the case of a removal from one diocese to another. I deem it, however, an act of justice to him, further to state to you, that Dr. Moore's ministrations have been uniformly respectable, popular, and useful. He evinces sincere attachment to the doctrines, the order, and the worship of the venerable Church in which he has been educated, and in which he has been for many years a zealous labourer. And such is the confidence placed in his fidelity to his principles, and in his prudent and zealous efforts to advance her in- terests, should the order of Providence remove him to Virginia, that I believe he will go there with the good wishes and the prayers of his brethren generally in this quarter. T very sincerely declare that Dr. Moore's intercourse with me is so frank, respectful, and friendly, and he appears so heartily disposed to co-operate with me in advancing the common interest of our Zion, that I shall regret his removal from this diocese, at the same time that I trust and be- lieve that his ministrations and labours, by the blessing of 138 MEMOIR OF THE God, will be advantageous to the cause of religion and the Church in Virginia. I remain, dear sir, Very sincerely and respectfully, Your obedient friend and brother, J. H. HOBART. Edmund I. Lee, Esa. In this correspondence Dr. Moore displays the very spirit v^'hich became his character ; nd station. He dared not declare that under no circur.".s ances would he consent to be elevated to the high office which he was solicited to ac- cept ; lest haply he should contravene the divine will in this particular. Yet, situated as he was, in a position of great usefulness, where he enjoyed every thing that was necessary to his temporal comfort and happiness, he could not, conscientiously, do any thing which would seem like anticipating the designs of Providence, or of contributing to his own promotion. He therefore respectfully but firm- ly declined the repeated and earnest solicitations of his friends to visit Virginia before his mind was convinced that he had been duly called there " according to the will of our Lord Jesus Christ and the order of the Church." It was made known to the Convention, which assembled in Richmond on the 4th of May, 1814, that Dr. Moore had been appointed Rector of the Monumental Church ; where- upon, the Convention proceeded to the election of a Bishop, in which every vote, save one, was for him. At the time of Dr. Moore's election, there were but four acting bishops in the United States. The event, therefore, afforded high satisfaction; not only as contributing to the promotion of truth and piety in the Church, but because it relieved the fears, which many began to entertain, that LIFE OF BISHOP MOOKE. 139 death might reduce the number of our bishops below that which is necessary to constitute an Episcopal College. This was the first instance in the United States of the election of a clergyman as Bishop in any other Diocese than that in which he was resident; and the first, save one, of the election to the Episcopate of one holding those views of theological doctrines, and ecclesiastical usages, which characterize what is called the " evangeHcal" school. But the example has been since extensively followed, in both particulars, with signal advantage to the Church. On the 18th of May, 1814, Dr. Moore was consecrated to the office of Bishop, in St. James' Church, Philadelphia, by the Rt. Rev. William White, presiding Bishop, assisted by Bishops Hobart, Griswold, and Dehon. In the sermon preached upon the occasion, by Bishop Hobart, the follow- ing animating passages are found. " The night of adversity has passed, and the morning, I would fain hope, of a long and splendid day is dawning on the Church in Virginia. I think J see the pledge of this in the attachment to our Church, and in the anxious desire to serve her, manifested by laymen of the highest influence and talents, and by a few zealous clergy. They have com- bined, and they have resolved, under God, that the Church in Virginia shall not perish. From my soul I revere and love them for the holy resolve. My God ! in this remem- ber them for good. The first fruits of their labours we witness this day. "To counsel, to lead, to strengthen them in their exertions; to revive, among a numerous and widely extended popula- tion, the spirit of piety ; to make known, valued and loved, the evangelical and primitive institutions of our Church; to make these institutions and services, under God, the in- struments of bringing again the outcast, and reclaiming the 140 MEMOIR OF THE lost, of conviction and conversion to the sinner, of holiness and comfort to the saint, is the work of imnninent difficulty and hazard ; but I trust, by God's blessing, of success and honour, to which you, my Reverend brother, will be called." " I owe it to you to declare, that in relation to the Episco- pate of Virginia, you were pressed with an urgency which would not admit of a refusal ; and that your whole conduct in respect to it has been marked by a frankness, and con- ciliation, and a zeal for the interests of religion and the Church, which have removed every difficulty that might have impeded your elevation to the Episcopal office. We shall now follow you to your arduous station with our best wishes and our prayers. It must be apparent that you make no inconsiderable sacrifice of personal ease. At a period of life when you must have begun to look forward to a degree of rest from the conflicts of active duty, you are called on to exchange the comforts of your native city, and the attentions of a congregation warmly attached to you, for a land of strangers, and for the difficulties of a depressed and extensive Diocese. Still, in the labours of the field on which you enter, you will meet, we trust, with zealous coadjutors in the clergy and laity, who, in a man- ner very honourable to yourself, have chosen you for their Diocesan ; and who have, by this act, pledged themselves to support you in the fulfilment of your consecration vows, to extend and to maintain the doctrine, discipline, and wor- ship of our Church. Among the laity whose talents and influence will be called to your aid, I perceive some of my most early and valued friends. From the people generally among whom you will labour, you will, I am satisfied, receive every kind attention that can tend to lessen the burden of your cares. The state of society and manners among those with whom your future life is to be passed, LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 141 (I speak from some degree of personal knowledge) needs only the purifying and elevating influence of religion to become in a high degree interesting, and a source of per- sonal gratification. But you must look beyond all earthly aids and consolations, to those which your Lord and Master only can confer. Should the spirit of unfeigned and hum- ble piety, regulated and cherished by the sound doctrines, the primitive order, and the truly evangelical services and institutions of our Church, be revived in the scene of your future labours, with what delight shall we all look back to the service of this day ! And how fervent will be our thanks to God, who hath made you the instrument of this great good !" When the testimonials of Dr. Moore were presented for signature in the House of Clerical and Lay Deputies, one of the members rose in his place and declared that on account of the well known " irregularities," as he was pleased to style them, of the Dr. in holding lecture room services, prayer-meetings, &c. he had entertained conscientious scruples about signing his credentials; but intimated that he had received such explanations and assurances from the candidate as had relieved his mind from diflSculty and induced him to give his assent to the consecration. This circumstance, together with an equivocal passage in Bishop Hobart's sermon, led some to apprehend that undue concessions had been made, and that the Bishop would repudiate the principles and usages by which the ministry of the Presbyter had been guided. The writer, then a youthful deacon, formed one of a small circle assembled at the house of Dr. Pilmore, on the afternoon of the day of the consecration. That circle was composed of the warm personal friends of Dr. Moore and his well-known princi- ples. The rumours and surmises respecting the alleged M 142 MEMOIR OF THE .change in his views were incidentally mentioned, but with regret and incredulity, among other topics of conversation. At about the same instant the Bishop entered the room; when Dr. Pilmore, rising from his seat, advanced to meet him, profoundly bowing in the most formal and ceremo- nious manner, while he said, substantially, " I feel proud and happy to welcome the Bishop of Virginia under my humble roof; we hardly knew, after what we had heard, whether you would mingle with your old friends any more." The answer was, " Poh ! poh ! my old friend, no more of that ; you will find me to be the same Richard Moore still." No explanations were asked, and none were given ; but if there had been any misgivings on the part of any there, the whole character of the interview was well adapted to remove them. At its close, we bowed our knees before the throne of grace, and united in a fervent prayer offered up by the newly consecrated Bishop. Soon after the adjournment of the General Convention, he repaired to Richmond ; visiting and preaching at Alex- andria and Fredericksburg, on his way thither. The chief object of this visit was to become acquainted with his new flock, and prepare for the permanent location of his family. His first impressions respecting the field of his future la- bours, of the character of the people with whom he was thenceforth to be connected in the pastoral relation, and of the field of usefulness opened to him in the diocese, are briefly noticed in the following letters to Edmund I. Lee, Esq. Richmond, June 28th, 1814. My Beloved Sir, — Strange that I should be obliged to offer to your generous mind, the attentions of those friends to whom you have introduced me, as a cause for the silence which I have observed towards you ; but however strange LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 143 it may appear, it is not the less true. Tlie engagements in which I have been involved since my arrival in this place, have swallowed up all my time, and prevented me from expressing to you those grateful sensations with which your friendship has inspired my mind. To my divine Master I refer you for remuneration ; may bis blessing be the por- tion of you and yours. I have lamented exceedingly that my indisposition, while in Alexandria, closed the door of almost all communication between your amiable com- panion and myself; when the head is sick, the heart is literally faint. When I return, however, to fetch my fa- mily, I hope I shall enjoy all my usual health, and then Mrs. Lee and myself will have an opportunity of saying every thing, which the subject of divine things may sug- gest. I have written to Mr. Wilmer, requesting him to return my thanks to those gentlemen who kindly attended me to Fredericksburg, and to declare to all my acquaint- ances in Alexandria, the esteem which I entertain for them. As he is very systematic in his operations, I take it for granted that he has complied with my wishes. I am at present at the house of my valued friend. Dr. B. St. Paul, in his excursions, was never better received, nor more affectionately treated. I am highly pleased with those features of vital piety which I discover among the ladies of this city. So far from being ashamed of religion, or its illustrious founder, they are proud of giving it that place to which it is so justly entitled. Remember me to all my friends in your district. Assure Judge Washington of my most respectful attentions, and accept for yourself the re- gard and best wishes of, Dear sir. Your obedient friend and servant, Richard Chaining Moore. 144 MEMOIR OF THE Richmond, January 24, 1815. Dear Sir, — The religious prospect which presents itself to my view in this city, is, perhaps, as encouraging as I could reasonably have expected. It has been my object, since my settlement with this congregation, to cultivate a friendship with the leading families, in order that I might be able to form an opinion of those features of character and disposition, by which they are distinguished. This measure I conceived to be indispensably necessary, as with- out it, I should never be capable of correctly ascertaining the best mode of conveying useful instruction to their minds. The labours of a clergyman, however well meant those la- bours may be, unless seasoned with prudence, will often prove, not only abortive, but subversive of the very effect which he might have intended to produce. A knowledge of character ought, therefore, to be obtained, if possible, in order that the surest avenue to the heart and understand- ing may be discovered and improved. The polite atten- tion with which myself and family are treated, I consider as an evidence of the respect they bear to me, and of that interest which they feel in my personal comfort; and from the uniform attendance of our first citizens upon my public labours, I take it for granted that they are disposed to encourage me in the prosecution of that great work in which I am engaged. My mode of preaching, you know, from the small specimen which you have had of it, is evan- gelical; exposing to view the awful degeneracy of man, and leading him from every other dependence, to the Lord Jesus Christ for succour and salvation. I have hitherto confined myself to those discourses which I had composed in New S'ork, and which God did bless in that city, to the conversion of many who heard them. Upon the truth of LIF6 of bishop MOORE. 145 those views which they embrace, I am willing to risk my everlasting all ; and as I have discovered no indisposition in the people of my present charge to listen to them, I pro- claim them without reserve. At our last sacrament we were joined by several new members, and I entertain a hope that the number will continue to increase. Within the last month, I have visited the congregation at Peters- burg, and held a confirmation in that place; and it is with great pleasure I inform you, that Mr. G. K. T. presented himself to receive that holy rite, and assured me before I left his house, that as I had introduced family prayer in his dwelling, it should be his duty to perpetuate the observance of it ; indeed, my friend, from all the conversation between himself and lady, and myself, J am obliged to conclude that their hearts are deeply affected with divine things. Mr. W. M., of this city, has also commenced the practice of family devotion, and is always in his T^evv twice upon every Sabbath. I have lately passed a Sabbath at the Rock Church, in Hanover, and have been assured by Dr. B., who is an eminent Christian, that our labours in that parish have been sanctified to the souls of several of the inhabi- tants. As a proof of that sensation which was produced, he waited upon me a few days since, in company with Mr. P., of that neighbourhood, in order to inform me that a subscription had been opened for the support of the Gospel, and that they were now ready to receive such evangelical help, as I might be enabled to furnish them with. I have also been visited, within a few days, by Chancellor T., and a Mr. W., of Cumberland County, who informed me that a clergyman of piety could be supported in the parishes in their neighbourhood; and that if the people approve of the labours of the individual whom I might send, there was little doubt but a glebe would be purchased for his M 2 146 MEMOIR OF THE residence. « The harvest," my beloved sir, " is great, but the labourers are few ; pray ye, therefore, the Lord of the harvest to send forth labourers into his vineyard." The affliction with which your city has been visited, in the late epidemic, and the loss which your Church has sustained, in the death of several of its members, has excited my sincerest sympathy ; that God, however, by whose permission it has been allowed to exercise its desolating effects, can restrain it the moment he sees fit; and when it shall have accom- plished the designs of his providence, it will be removed. The duty, therefore, of his dependent creatures, consists in submitting to his will, " knowing that all things shall work together for good to those who love God." The pestilence, you informed me, entered your dwelling; but Jehovah, who takes care of you, so restrained it in its operation, that your dear children have escaped with their lives. May God, who is rich in mercy, sanctify it to the good of your souls, and make it instrumental in bringing you nearer to his throne. Our afflictions, my beloved friend, cannot advance the happiness of our Creator, they must, there- fore, be intended to excite in our minds a spirit of vigilance : to wean us from the world, and to elevate our hearts to more sublime and never-fading joys. This world, I have long thought, possesses few charms worthy the attention of beings destined for immortality; when therefore I see my fellow-creatures so far degrading their exalted nature, as to remain satisfied with terrestial pleasures, my heart sickens at the view ; and I would wil- lingly take them by the hand, and lead them to reflect upon happiness more durable and unceasing. Can any of us, who have tasted of the cup of human folly, say that the draught which we have taken has proved satisfying ? On the contrary, has not experience proved to us, that after LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 147 the fullest indulgence, there has a void remained, which no earthly bliss could fill 1 And yet so foolish is the natural man, that disappointments, though repeated ever so often, cannot drive him from his purpose, nor stop him in his course. We, therefore, who have tasted of God's grace, and have our affections elevated to heavenly pursuits, upon our knees should thank him for his love, and adore him for his goodness. Let us press on, then, in the pursuit of glory, and though the proud philosophers of our day should laugh at our credulity, and charge us with enthusiasm, we will tell them, " We know that if our earthly house of this ta- bernacle were di^olved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." Re- member me most affectionately to Mr. Wilmer and Norris. In these men your city has a blessing ; may God long con- tinue them among you. Give my sincerest regards to Mrs. Lee, and all my friends ; particularly to Col. De'N., and several others whose names I cannot recollect, but whose amiable manners have attached me strongly to them; and accept for yourself, and for Judge Washington and family, the assurance of the most perfect esteem. Yours, Richard Channing Moore. In the month of October, having gone through the pain- ful scenes connected with the sundering of the ties which had bound him to St. Stephen's, and the taking leave of his numerous friends in New York, he removed with his family to Richmond, and entered upon the occupancy of the new and wider field which Providence had assigned him. As the remaining chapters of this biography will be mainly occupied with a view of the Bishop's operations in the discharge of the higher functions of his Episcopal of- 148 ^ MEMOIR OF THE fice, it will be proper to devote the remainder of the pre- sent one to a brief sketch of him as a parochial minister. The congregation of the Monumental Church compre- hended probably a larger amount of intelligence and re- finement, and a greater proportion of men distinguished for talent and influence, than any congregation in the Union. But differing as it did, in this respect, from the humbler flocks to which the Bishop had previously ministered, yet the polished ease and dignity of his deportment, the amia- ble and Christian courtesy of his spirit, his fascinating con- versational powers, his nice sense of the proprieties of life, the bland benevolence of his manners,*and above all, his rigid adherence to the rules which should govern the civil intercourse of those belonging to the sacred profession, — made him perfectly at home in his new sphere ; and very soon, won for him the respect, the confidence, the alfection of the entire community. Previous to his removal there, the principal families of Richmond composed a kind of joint spiritual charge, watch- ed over in common by the Rev. Dr. Buchanan, of the Epis- copal, and by the Rev. Dr. Blair, of the Presbyterian Church. These venerable men were not remarkable for strictness of doctrine or rigour of discipline. They held their services alternately, at the Capitol, ministering to nearly the same congregation. Neither of them was ani- mated by a zeal for proselyting which would be likely to disturb the peace or interfere with the interests of the other. And in the promiscuous commingling which exist- ed, the individual hearers were, no doubt, often at a loss to decide to which flock they belonged, or which pastor they were bound to follow. Such a state of things could not fail to prove perplexing to a clergyman who, though desirous to maintain a friendly and affectionate intercourse LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 149 with Christian people of every name, felt himself restrained by his ordination vows from indulging liberality at the ex- pense of principle. The opening of the Monumental Church, however, enabled the new pastor to segregate his people, and, within its sacred walls, to train Ihem to habits of attachment to the doctrines, discipline, and worship of the Church. The laxity of religious principle and practice which had so long prevailed among the people, and their unacquain- tance with those plain exhibitions of truth which are given in a faithful and uncompromising ministry, might have been a temptation to some clergymen to hold back the more offen- sive doctrines of the gospel, and to soften down the asperity of its precepts, in accommodation to the ignorance and preju- dices, not to say the corruptions, of their hearers. Such, how- ever, was not the case with the subject of this memoir. He knew the tenor of the commission he had received as an am- bassador of Christ. His embassy was to rebellious men, whom he was to entreat, in Christ's behalf, to be reconciled to God The message which he was to deliver was the same which had been entrusted to him from on high. He saw, in the congregation before him, a company of sinners alienated from God, condemned by his law, and exposed to the seve- rity of his curse. If he failed to say to the wicked, " O wicked man, thou shalt surely die," and so warn him of his danger, that he should turn from his wickedness and live ; that wicked man should die in his iniquity, but his blood would be required at the pastor's hands. While, there- fore, he denounced God's wrath against the impenitent, and assured them that they must repent or perish ; he delight- ed to announce " the faithful saying and worthy of all ac- ceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save Binners." He knew that the Gospel makes no distinction of 150 MEMOIR OF THE persons. It proclaims a common salvation to those who are involved in a common ruin. It teaches the same lesson to the philosopher and to the simpleton. It demands the same humiliation of the rich and the poor. It offers salvation upon the same terms to the moral and the vicious, to the decent and the vile. And while it declares that "every mouth must be stopped, and the whole world become guilty before God ;" it declares no less plainly that Christ " is able to save unto the uttermost," and that " whosoever cometh unto him he will in no wise cast out." The Gospel, therefore, can undergo no change; and admits of no accommodation of its essential principles to suit the variety of taste and character in the different congregations to which it is to be proclaimed. Bishop Moore preached the same gospel to his intellectual and refined congregation in Richmond, which he had been accustomed to address to his plainer and more unsophisticated hearers on Staten Island and in New York. " By the manifestation of the truth he commended himself to every man's conscience in the sight of God." The gos- pel of Christ crucified, preached by his lips, proved the power of God unto salvation. And although the success of his parochial ministry in the capital of Virginia, was not equal to that which crowned his earlier labours in other places, yet his heart was often encouraged by the addition of new converts to his communion, and the congregation of the Monumental Church became one of the largest and most devout in the diocese. He often, during life, lamented the comparative un- fruitfulness of his labours there. But since his decease, it has pleased God to visit that congregation with a season of " refreshing," as the result of which large numbers have been added to the company of the faithful. In some of these, doubtless, we behold the springing up of that seed LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 151 sown during his ministry of many years. While partaking of the labour and the joy connected with that revival, the writer could not but indulge the belief that, as the young man was revived by touching the bones of the Prophet, — so the signs of spiritual life manifested in the new converts might, under God, be ascribed to the instrumentahty of the departed Father, who ''being dead, yet speaketh" through them to the living generation. It was delightful to reflect that the spirit of that loved one was hovering over the scene, as an interested spectator of its hopes and joys; and was con- stantly receiving new accessions to its happiness and bliss, as one after another, his spiritual children gave their hearts to the Saviour, and consecrated their all to his ser- vice. During the whole of his twenty-seven years ministry in Richmond, he preached the word with fidelity and zeal, "in season and out of season ;" and might truly have declared to his people at its close, " ye know, from the first day that I came, after what manner I have been with you at all seasons; serving the Lord with ail humility of mind, and with many tears and temptations; and how I kept back nothing that was profitable unto you, but have showed you, and have taught you publicly, and from house to house, — testifying repentance towards God, and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ .... Wherefore, I take you to record this day, that I am pure from the blood of all men; for I have not shunned to declare unto you all the counsel of God." His zeal and faithfulness in the pulpit, were equalled only by the tender and affectionate assiduity with which all his parochial duties were discharged. When the infirmities of advanced years rendered confinement to study and the preparation of sermons irksome to him, he acquired the habitof regular, daily visitations to the people 1 52 MEMOIR OF THE of his charge. He was prompt in repairing to the chambers of the sick, and to the bed-side of the dying. And being, from the benevolence of his heart and the tenderness of his nature, ever ready to weep with those who wept, and to rejoice with those who rejoiced, he appeared Uke an angel of mercy, in his proper element amidst scenes of affliction and was always a welcome visiter to the sorrow-stricken and bereaved. Never, probably, did a Christian minister, by his fidelity and love in the discharge of pastoral duties, establish a stronger claim to the affection and attach- ment of his people, or enjoy them more fully, than the late beloved Rector of the Monumental Church. But it was not his own people alone that loved him. So free was he from all the asperities of sectarianism and bigotry; — so pleasing, condescending, and affable in his manners ; so overflowing with the milk of human kindness was his heart, and so lustrous with purity and benevolence was his life — that Christians of every name gloried in him, as a lovely example of the religion they professed, and cheerfully yielded to him the Marm tribute of veneration and regard. A beautiful illustration of this was afforded when on the first of January 1835, he received as a New Year's gift, a splendid copy of the New Testament printed in golden letters, on porcelain paper, accompained with the following inscription. "Presented to the Right Rev. R. C. Moore, by the citizens of Richmond, members of the different religious denominations, as a tribute of their affectionate regard and esteem, for one who has so long and so carefully devoted his life to the great cause of Christianity." The following is the Bishop's acknowledgment of the sift: LIFE OF BISHOP UOOBE. 153 January 5tb, 1835. TO MESSRS. JOHN D. LAY, AND WM. MITCHELL. Dear Brethren, — The truly elegant and acceptable copy of the New Testament presented to me as a new year's present, by one hundred of my fellow citizens of different denominations of Christians in this city, has been received: and I can assure you with great truth, that they could not have conferred on me any favour which would have so richly entitled them to my sincere gratitude and thanks. It is, gentlemen, the charter deed of our salvation ; a deed sealed with the blood of the precious lamb of God : and it is my sincere prayer that all the promises of happiness it con- tains may be realized by those who, in my old age, have afforded me so great an evidence of their filial affection and regard. That the present year may prove a happy year, and abound with heavenly blessings, and temporal comforts to you, and all the families of the kind donors of the Sacred Volume, is the fervent prayer, dear brethren, of Your old friend and fellow citizen, R. C. Moore. The cost of the Testament was fifty dollars ; and that the number of donors might be many, no individual was allowed to contribute more than fifty cents. In this grate- ful act of public regard, even some Jews and Romanists gladly united. It was an act which solaced the Bishop's mind amid the trials of a sick bed, to which he was then confined, and afforded him the highest gratification in the review. The nature of the gift and the feelings by which it was prompted, imparted to it an inestimable value. It is difficult to say to which the circumstance was most N 154 MEMOIR OF THE honourable — the recipient of the favour, or the community by which it was bestowed. Bishop Moore was so long a resident of Richmond, that his person was well known to almost all its inhabitants. He was considered as a kind of Patriarch in the city ; of whom all were proud, as one of its greatest ornaments. As he moved to and fro through the streets, on his frequent visits to the Church, and other errands of devotion and benevolence, — with his silvery locks floating upon the breeze, and his devout countenance lifted to the heavens, his venerable aspect commanded the attention of behold- ers, and called forth the tokens of homage which uncor- rupted youth and virtuous manhood ever pay to the hoary head when found in the way of righteousness. Even child- hood paused in its sports and suspended its recreations as he passed, to gaze on him with gladness, as one to be venerated and loved. The thoughtless and giddy votaries of mammon or pleasure might sneer at his piety, and scoff at what they deemed his credulity and superstition; — yet as he passed through the busy throng, occupied with re- flections and pursuits widely different from theirs ; — even they, doubtless, thought, at times, that their condition was bettered by the kindly warmth of his charity, and that they were, perhaps, indebted for their preservation to the influence of his prayers. Even the criminal and vicious, to whom his principles and life liad been a constant reproof, would deem his removal a common loss; producing a blank which could not easily be filled. For, the wicked, who affect to despise the righteous man living, often mourn his death as a public calamity. Accordingly, when the Bishop's death was announced, there were few indeed in that community who did not feel as if they had lost a father and a friend. Almost the entire population of the city LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 155 joined the funeral procession which followed his rennains to their last resting place, and mingled their tears over his sepulchre. The following eloquent extract from the funeral address, by one who for several years shared with him in the cares and responsibilities of the pastoral office, will form an ap- propriate conclusion to this imperfect sketch of Bishop Moore's parochial ministry in Richmond. "But it is in his parochial character as rector of the Monumental Church congregation that he is best known and most beloved in Richmond. His pastoral labours here for 27 years have exceedingly endeared him to this congre- gation. Gentle, am.iable, kind and courteous, with a heart full to overflowing with benevolence, with a charity which included in the wide circle of his affection all the lost world for whom the Redeemer died — always under the influence of the most kindly feeling for all men and the tenderest sympathy for the alflicted, he associated with the people as their spiritual father and guide. He delighted in the Gospel ; Christ crucified was his constant theme, and he loved especially to dwell in his preaching on the bright and cheering topics of Christianity. The mercy of God, the tender and kind invitations of the Saviour, the soothing consolations of religion, and its glorious hopes, constituted the burthen of his preaching, and when set forth with great animation, the most moving pathos, in an eloquent style of composition, aided by a delightful voice and fine manner, gave to his preaching a peculiar charm which all appre- ciated. He dearly loved the Liturgy of the Church, and as in its eloquent and holy strains he presented to God the prayers and praises of his people, he often wept. Love to God and love to man dwelt in his bosom and pervaded his conversation and sermons. He could seldom speak of the 156 MEMOIE OF THE dying love of Christ without tears ; and, like the beloved Apostle, whom Jesus most loved, and whom he greatly re- sembled in character, the prevailing sentiment of this aged Minister of Christ, during his latter years, was " little chil- dren, love one another." O ! that his bereaved people may remember and obey this godly admonition. They all love him, and well they may; for there are few of the younger part of them whom he did not receive in those arms now cold and stiff in death, and at the baptismal font dedicate them to God's service and admit them into the Church of Christ, and make them heirs of all the precious promises of the Christian Covenant. O ! that they may never forget the obligations then assumed for them, and that they may not, by failure to comply with the conditions of salvation, forfeit that rich inheritance, the title to which was then bestowed upon them. Most of those of his flock who now mourn his loss, also had their earthly happiness cemented by him in holy matrimony. The large body of communi- cants now worshipping in the Monumental Church, were all, with very few exceptions, admitted to that sacred means of grace by the imposition of his hands in the Apostolic and beautiful rite of confirmation. Often have they assembled around that chancel before which his venerated remains so lately lay cold in the embrace of death, and seen that much loved form instinct with life, within their kneeling circle, and heard that gentle and dear voice, now silent forever, invite them, in the most affectionate tones, to the spiritual feast of the Lord, and receive from his hands the emblems of the crucified body and shed blood of their dying Redeem- er. Brethren, let the memory of these consecrated scenes of the communion of saints never fade from your minds, and never forget the faithful teaching of this godly old man. Few among you, who so lately followed this beloved pastor LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 157 to his last resting place on earth, have not been led by him to that city of the dead where his dust will lie until suna- moned, on the resurrection morn, by the Archangel's trump, to a new and eternal life, and have there seen him commit your loved ones to the grave in the solemn service of your church, and' with the trembling accents of the deepest sympathy and tenderest love. Remember, also, these solemn scenes, and O, prepare to follow them to the tomb, and him to the bliss of Heaven ! He loved social and friendly intercourse with his people, and all have enjoyed his sprightly and cheerful conversations, and heard his fatherly advice and spiritual encouragement around their firesides. " Never did the writer, whose opportunities of observation have been constant, during the last five years, know a minister who equalled Bishop Moore, in the kindness, fre- quency, and efficacy of his attentions to the sick and afflic- ted. The gentleness and kindnessof his manner, the depth of his sympathy, the soothing character of his conversation, his happy and tender mode of presenting the consolations of the Gospel, all accompanied by prayers of the most appro- priate character, and of remarkable fervour, rendered this department of his parochial duties eminently pleasing and useful. Truly did he love his dear people, as he was wont to call them : He was the friend of them all. How often has the writer heard him mourn over those of them who are impenitent, seen him weep for them ; and heard his ejaculatory prayers ascend to God on their behalf! How often has he seen him bear the communicants of his flock in his heart, and on his lips to the throne of grace, and pray God to strengthen their faith, and confirm them in all Christian graces, and in all good works ! " Who can withhold the tribute of admiration for such n2 158 MEMOIR OP THE LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. a character; who would desire a more enviable lot than his? Enjoying for fifty-four years the high privilege of declaring the glad tidings of the Gospel to ransomed sinners — beloved by all, eminently successful both in his ministry and in his Episcopate, without enemies, his death has been like his life, gentle, calm, full of love, and hope, and peace. Let it be repeated, he had no enemies, for he was just and up- right in all his dealings, he had a tender regard for the re- putation and feelings of all, and never spoke evil of any : and who could cherish aught but love and reverence for one so full of love to all ? The citizens of Richmond loved to see his venerable form and benevolent face as he walked the streets. His best eulogium is the love and veneration of the whole population of Richmond — the tears of the immense assembly that thronged the Church at his funeral; yes, of all, old men and matrons, young men and maidens and children.' Who can forget the sobs which were heard throughout that vast crowd ? Who was not impressed by the unparalleled multitudes which swelled his far-lengthened funeral procession ?" CHAPTER V. ■ From 1814 to 1829. The views and spirit with which Bishop Moore entered upon the duties of his Episcopate. Notices of the early success of his labours. An Epis- copate fund proposed. Formation of Prayer Boole and Tract Society. Rev. Benjamin Allen's labours. Measures taken to promote theological education in connexion with William and Mary College. Founding of Theological School, and the Education Society. Brief sketch of the history of both. Fashionable amusements and lay discipline. View of Bible Societies, and letters relating to them. His ardent love for the Liturgy, and desire to have it strictly adhered to in his Diocese. Opposi- tion to proposed changes in it. Letters on the Liturgy. Baptismal Re- generation, &c. His views relating to the removals of Clergymen from one parish to another. Episcopal services in North Carolina. Death of Rev. Messrs. Norris and Wilmer. Rumours of his wish to retire from the Diocese. His desire for an Assistant Bishop. Dr. Meade elected, with an objectionable restriction, which was afterwards removed. Con- secrated in 1829. The lovely example of zeal, faithfulness, and success in pastoral duties, exhibited in the life of Bishop Moore, so imperfectly sketched in the preceding chapter, was but a counterpart of the exhibition of the like qualities in the performance of the higher functions of his Episcopal ofiSce. In addressing ourselves to this part of our work, which will require, not only a notice of prominent events in the history of his diocese, but also a view of the prin- ciples by which he was guided, the policy he adopted, and the motives which prompted him in the discharge of his important duties as a Bishop in the Church of God, a wide field is opened before us; and it will be difficult to confine 1 60 MEMOIR or THE ourselves within the Hmits allotted to the present memoir ; but we shall study brevity, so far as it may be consistent with the faithful performance of the duty of a biographer. The first Episcopal act performed by Dr. Moore, as Bishop of Virginia, was the consecration of his newly erected parish church to the service of Almighty God. This was soon after his removal to Richmond ; and before the close of his ministry, the number of Episcopalians had so increased in that city of his habitation, that he had the pleasure of setting apart to the same sacred use, two other edifices — Christ, and St. James' Churches. Though a large portion of the first year of the Bishop's residence in Virginia was necessarily occupied by the duties of his parochial charge, yet was he enabled, by the grace of God, to accomplish much for the welfare of other parishes, and to enter upon that course of Episcopal visitations which he maintained ever afterwards with exemplary energy and zeal, till he was compelled to intermit them, in some measure, by the visitations of infirmity and disease. In his address to the Convention of 1815, he reports that he had visited several of the parishes, confirmed 180 per- sons, received four candidates for orders, admitted two to the diaconate, and one to the priesthood, and consecrated one church besides the Monumental. " The visitations I have made," says the Bishop, " though very circumscribed, have enabled me to form some view of the state of our eccle- siastical concerns, and from that view, I think myself justi- fied in drawing the most pleasing conclusions. In every parish which I have visited, I have discovered the most animated wish in the people to repair the waste places of our Zion, and to restore the Church of their fathers to its primitive purity and excellence." "The apostolic rite of confirmation, which I have ad- LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 161 ministered in several parishes, was received by people of all ages with the greatest joy, and a general principle of union and exertion was, upon those occasions, universally expressed. Parishes which have been destitute of minis- terial aid for many years, which had slumbered until the warmest friends of the Church conceived it to have been the sleep of death, have, in two instances, been awakened from that state of torpor in which they were involved, and have arisen in all the vigour of perfect health. The younger clergy of this diocese, who, from their youth and spiritual attainments, are well qualified for the glorious work, have exerted themselves in a manner deserving the most honour- able mention. They have carried the standard of the Lord Jesus Christ through a considerable portion of this Church ; they have gone out into the highways and hedges, preaching the truths of their divine Master ; and by their holy conversation with the people, have adorned the Gospel of Christ. A number of their elder brethren, though pre- vented by age from using the same exertion, have laboured with fidelity, and contributed their best efforts to promote that work which has been entrusted to their hands. The laity have been equally assiduous in the discharge of that duty pecuhar to their station — the duty of providing for the ministers of religion. May Heaven reward them for their labours of love ; and may every cup of cold water which they have given to a disciple, in the name of a dis- ciple, receive a disciple's reward." The address concluded with the following solemn and earnest appeal: " My brethren of the clergy, — The wel- fare and advancement of our Zion depend upon our joint and vigorous exertions. Great is the duty imposed upon us, and great is the responsibility of that character we fill, as ministers of the Gospel of peace. If there ever was a 162 MEMOIR OF THE period in which exertion was necessary ; and if there ever was a period which bid fair to crown that exertion with success, this is the time. Though few in number, yet de- pending for support upon the promises of God, we may look for an abundant blessing upon our labours. Jehovah has promised to be with his Church to the end of the world : and he will fulfil his declaration. The parishes are invo- king our aid. 0, listen, I beseech you, to their numerous entreaties ! ' Be steadfast, then : be unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, and your labour shall not be in vain in the Lord.' " A diocese entering upon its new career under such aus- pices, having at its head a successor to the apostolic office animated by the apostolic spirit, seconded by a small band of clergymen distinguished for zeal and devotion in their Master's work, countenanced and cheered by the hearty co-operation of a few intelligent and pious laymen scattered throughout the parishes ; and above all, relying for success in the great work of reviving the Church, upon the pro- mised blessing and presence of its Divine Head, could not fail to be prospered. Accordingly, we find the Bishop, in his address to the Q)nvention of 1816, employing this strong language of con- gratulation and hope: " It is with the most sincere happi- ness I inform you, that the Protestant Episcopal Church in the diocese of Virginia, presents to the view of her friends a prospect truly encouraging. The clouds of adversity, which for years have overspread her horizon, appear to be dispersing, and our Zion, animated by the beams of the Sun of Righteousness, is recovering from her desolations, exhibit- ing the most heart-cheering evidences of returning health and vigour." During this year, Episcopal visitations were made to the LIFE OF BISHOP MOOHE. 163 northern parts of the diocese, and to the Churches west of the Blue Ridge, and the apostolic rite of confirmation was administered to about 750 ; several vacant parishes were supplied with devoted ministers, and five were admitted to holy orders. Twenty parishes, which, at the time of Dr. Moore's consecration, were destitute, were now reported as being favoured with the stated services of the sanctuary, performed either by ordained ministers, or by pious can- didates for orders, licensed as lay readers. At the Convention of 1816, an important measure was proposed, by a most respectable committee of three clergy- men and three laymen, in relation to the providing of a permanent support for the Episcopate. '• Our venerable Bishop," says the Report of the Committee, "has diffused, through various and remote parts, a portion of that zeal which animates his labours. But the duties of his paro- chial charge necessarily limit the sphere of his usefulness. It appears to us, therefore, necessary, as well in order to give full effect to his Episcopal ministrations, as to derive the benefits contemplated by the Convention, that some mode be devised by which he may be rendered independent of any parochial charge. By this means every part of the Church may occasionally enjoy the benefits of the pubhc ordinances, and of the Episcopal functions; and thus, being enabled to pervade every part of the diocese, he will have it in his power to encourage the desponding, to rouse the thoughtless, to give direction to the zeal and energy of the pious, and to impress upon the whole system a salutary im- pulse." This important proposal, though often renewed and dis- cussed in subsequent Conventions, was never carried into full effect. The late Bishop was always earnest in its ad- vocacy, not with a view to his own ease or emolument, 164 MEMOIR OF THE (for it was very improbable that he would live long enough to receive any benefit fronn the fund,) but to secure the in- dependence of the office, and the comfort of those who might be his successors in it. For want of such provision, he afterwards generously relinquished one thousand or fif- teen hundred dollars of his salary as Rector, for the sup- port of an assistant in the Monumental Church, that he might devote more of his attention to the duties of his Episcopal charge. The majority of the Convention, per- suaded that the endowment of the Theological Seminary and of the High School, was an object of more pressing neces- sity, believed that the raising of the Episcopal Fund might safely be deferred till that was accomplished. It is hoped, however, that the day is not distant, when ample provision will be made in that wealthy and extensive diocese, for re- lieving the Bishop from the necessity of assuming a paro- chial charge, or of depending upon the precarious support to be derived from the voluntary annual contributions of the parishes. At the same Convention a society was instituted for the distribution of Prayer-Books and Tracts in the Diocese of Virginia, which still continues in successful operation, and has proved a valuable auxiliary in the revival and exten- sion of the Church. The publications of this society have found their way to many a destitute neighbourhood or so- litary residence, never reached by the living missionary, and have there borne silent but effective testimony for Christ and his Church. The proposer of this institution, BE^JAMIN Allen, Jun., then a lay delegate from St. An- drew's parish, Jefferson county, deserves a passing notice in this memoir. A young man of genius, enterprise, and energv, he had left his native state of New York, and visit- ed Virginia, it is believed, in pursuit of occupation as a LIFE OF BISHOP ^lOORE. 165 teacher of youth. His previous ecclesiastical connex- ion had been with the Presbyterians, but being con- vinced of the superior claims of Episcopacy, he becanne a candidate for orders in the Church ; and having been licensed as lay reader, he journeyed on foot, with his bun- dle upon his back, and commenced his labours in the rich and beautiful valley lying between the Potomac and the Shenandoah, west of the Blue Ridge. Charlestown and Shephardstown were the two principal scenes of his minis- try; but, with true missionary zeal, he extended his labours to several destitute places in the vicinity. He remained there for several years after his ordination, and was the in- strument, in God's hands, of causing several churches to be erected and of gathering within their walls large congre- gations of devout worshippers. Having accomplished this important work in the diocese of Virginia, he, on the de- cease of Dr. Pilmore, accepted a call to the rectorship of St. Paul's Church, Philadelphia. Of his ministry there we propose not to speak, farther than to say, that he was the chief agent in the introduction of the late Dr. Bedell to the scene of his successful ministry, and in the erection of St. Andrew's Church. All the good which has resulted from the erection of that church and the successful labours of its first distinguished rector, should, under God, be ascribed to the disinterested benevolence and holy zeal of the Rev. Benjamin Allen. His life affords a memorable example of the good which may be effected by moderate abilities, sanc- tified by grace, and under the direction of a heart anima- ted by the love of God and of souls. Mr. Allen died on his return voyage from England, whither he had gone for the benefit of his health, in the year 1828.* * The writer has been informed, by what he deems good authority, that a course of lectures delivered by Mr. A. in Kendall, England, led to the 166 MEMOIR OF THE It was clearly perceived, by those who were engaged in the good work of resuscitating and extending the Church in Virginia, that a large supply of faithful, devoted, and well-qualified ministers of the cross was indispensable to the success of their noble undertaking. And at this early period, before any Theological Seminary connected with our Church had been established at the North, incipient measures were taken in Virginia to provide the means for the education of candidates for orders in an institution of its own. The most liberal views were entertained in re- ference to this important subject, and, so far as we are in- formed, the diocese of Virginia is entitled to the credit of taking the lead in the cause of theological education in the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States. That some of its members were disposed to enter upon a mea- sure of such vital interest with pious zeal and comprehen- sive views, is manifest from the following extract from an address of the Standing Committee entered upon the Jour- nalof 1816. " The Convention of 1815 received a communication from the President of William and JVJary College upon the ex- pediency of establishing a theological professorship in that institution. Whether this important object will ever be accomplished will depend entirely, under the blessing of God, upon the liberality and zeal of the friends of the Church in providing for it a suitable fund. For the pre- sent we submit the subject for consideration, and ask your aid and advice at our next Convention in. organizing a plan which may embrace a charity so extensive and useful. establishment of Bible classes by members of the Society of Friends, and gave the first impulse to the numerous conversions which have taken place from that Society to the Church within the last few years. LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 167 " When the number and wealth of Episcopalians in Vir- ginia are considered, we cannot but believe that these seve- ral objects" (the support of the episcopate and the esta- blishment for theological education) " will be cherished, and that our Church, which is behind none in the purity of her doctrines and the excellence of her forms, will be behind none in successful efforts towards carrying into effect the several parts of her religious and literary institutions. And surely, in the long list of distinguished supporters, a pecu- liar honour will rest on those who, placed highest in rank and station, have associated their greatness, and consecra- ted some portion of their wealth, to such objects ; and who will perceive that, in rallying round the standard of reli- gion, they are upholding that which is not only the best security and guard of social order, but is also the promise and pledge of a felicity above the warmest conceptions of the human imagination." In the foregoing extract we behold the germ of the Theo- logical Seminary of Virginia. From that period the sub- ject of theological education was not lost sight of. And this may be the most appropriate place for presenting a con- nected view of the progressive steps which resulted in the establishment of a " school of the prophets," which proved a most valuable auxiliary to the departed Bishop in securing the permanent establishment and continued prosperity of the Church in Virginia. The Rev. Reuel Keith, a graduate of Middlebury Col- lege in Vermont, who towards the close of his education had been baptized and received into the Church by the present writer, having been ordained deacon by Bishop Moore, in 1817, commenced his ministerial labours in Georgetown, D. C. After a successful ministry there of three years, he was appointed Professor in William and 1 G8 MEMOIR OF THE Mary College, and Rector of Bruton Parish, Williamsburg. In conformity with the proposal made by the authorities of the college in 1815, the benefits of theological educa- tion were now offered to candidates for orders gratuitously. The Convention of 1821, impressed with the importance of making more ample provision for the instruction of candi- dates for orders, and of retaining for this purpose, within the State, all such as might be disposed to devote them- selves to the sacred ministry, resolved to establish a theo- logical school at Williamsburg ; appointed a Board of Trus- tees for its government, selected an Agent to solicit sub- scriptions throughout the diocese for its support, and also directed the Board of Trustees to enter into a correspond- ence with the Standing Committees of Maryland and North Carolina, in order to ascertain whether the members of our Church in those states would co-operate with Virginia in the support of the institution. The agent met with en- couraging success in the collection of funds, having received subscriptions amounting to more than 10,000 dollars. No answer was received from North Carolina, and that from Maryland was unfavourable to the location of the school at Williamsburg. There was, in this movement, no feeling of hostility to the General Seminary which had been previously established at New Haven, but simply the carrying into effect of a design entertained several years before. All unfriendliness and rivalry was disavowed by a resolution of the Conven- tion. And the founding of the seminary was but the ex- ercise of a right, which, by general consent, pertained to every diocese in the Union, which had been previously exercised by that of New York, and has since been by those of Ohio and Kentucky. Acting upon this generally conceded principle, the Mary- LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 169 land Convention, in 1822, resolved to establish a theologi- cal^seminary for that diocese, and elected a Board of Trus- tees. The measure seemed to be received with much fa- vour by the Church, and as the result of a partial applica- tion to the parishes, a subscription of several thousand dol- lars was obtained towards the endowment of the institution. But a high party excitement was gotten up in opposition to the measure, as a consequence of which, the Convention of 1823 resolved to repeal the act of the preceding Con- vention, and to release the subscribers from their obliga- tions. This reverse was a sad trial to the friends of the pro- posed institution in Maryland. But in this instance, as in many others, it was manifest that while ** man appoints, God disappoints;" and the Great Head of the Church over- ruled the disappointment for the welfare of his cause and the glory of his name. The friends of theological educa- tion in Maryland and Virginia, who sympathized in their views of Christian doctrine and ecclesiastical policy, and favoured the training up of ministers in the midst of the people for whose benefit they were to labour, and with whose character, habits and institutions it was, therefore, important that they should be acquainted, — thus strangely prevented from accomplishing their end by separate action, were enabled to combine their efforts in the promotion of a common cause, through the medium of " the Education Society," which was a voluntary association, general in its character, and governed by a Board of Managers, in which the members of the Church in the two neighbouring dio- ceses were equally represented. That society instituted in 1818, was originally styled the Education Society of the District of Columbia, afterwards the Education Society of Maryland and Virginia, and was o2 170 MEMOIR OF THE finally so enlarged in the sphere of its operations as proper- ly to assume the title of " the Society for the Education of Pious and Indigent Young Men for the Ministry of the Pro- testant Episcopal Church." This is not the place to speak at large of its plans and operations. But we may be per- mitted to state that young men from all parts of the Union have been numbered among its beneficiaries, and nearly one-tenth part of the ministers of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States have derived aid from its funds in the acquirement of their theological training. While located at Williamsburg, the theological school was weak and languishing : and the Trustees, in October, 1823, transferred it to Alexandria, D. C, where Professor Keith soon gathered around him thirteen candidates for or- ders, and received efficient aid in his important work by the voluntary services of the Rev. Dr. Wilmer, in (he de- partment of Systematic Divinity, and of the Rev. Oliver Norris, in that of Pastoral Theology. The churchmen of Maryland, highly approving of the new location of the Seminary, resolved to give it their cordial support and co- operation through the medium of the Education Society. A large proportion of the subscribers to the Maryland Seminary cheerfully transferred their subscriptions to the Society. By this means the managers were enabled to en- large the number of their beneficiaries ; and when it was resolved to purchase a farm and transfer the Seminary to its present beautiful site, they loaned money to aid in the erection of buildings, and pledged themselves for the sup- port of an additional professorship. Thus, without any con- flict or jealousy between the two different Boards, the great work of theological education in which they jointly and harmoniously co-operate, has been more successfully prose- cuted than it could have been if {he plans originally LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 171 adopted had been carried into effect without opposition and without disappointment, by the respective parties. Ever since the removal of the Seminary to its present location, about three miles from Alexandria, in 1827, it has gone on increasing in popularity and usefulness; enjoying the favour of the Church and the blessing of God. Upon its farm of seventy acres there is erected a central build- ing, containing library, refectory, and recitation rooms, with two wings for the accommodation of the students : a chapel, and three houses for the professors and their families. The beneficial influence of this school of the prophets has by no means been confined to the diocese in which it is located. Its Alumni are found scattered through different and distant states ; and so successfully has the spirit of mis- sions been cultivated there through the medium of its "Society of Inquiry," &c. that of the eleven foreign missiona- ries of our Church, seven, — and of those in heathen lands, all, — were prepared for their work at the Virginia Semi- nary. Bishop Moore felt a warm interest in this favourite insti- tution of his Diocese. At its annual examinations he uni- formly attended, and was deeply solicitous that all who received its honours should be scribes well-instructed in the kingdom of God, " workmen that need not be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth." And, as the classes of its Alumni, one after another, received, through the im- position of his hands, authority to minister in holy things, his heart glowed with gratitude to Almighty God that his diocese was favoured with such a nursery of faithful minis- ters of Christ. He was not taken to his rest till this valuable institution was placed upon a stable foundation. He saw it, from small beginnings, under the care of able and skil- ful professors, rapidly advancing to eminence and useful- 172 MEMOIR OF THE ness; and every friend of the Church should pray that its progress may continue to be onward, now that the hoary head of the first President of its Board of Trustees is laid low in the dust. While the Bishop and his associates were prompt and energetic in the adoption and prosecution of measures which would increase the number of the clergy, and meet the growing demand for the enlargement and extension of the Church, they displayed no less wisdom and energy in pro- viding for \i?> purity, and were mainly anxious that the ex- ercise of apostolic discipline i\\o\x\^ preserve the conquests "which might, from time to time, be achieved by the autho- rized preachers of apostolic doctrine. Not only were canons adopted to guard the ministry against the intru- sion of unqualified men, and to purge it from the disgrace which might be brought upon it by the misconduct of the unworthy holders of a divine commission, but measures were also taken to keep the laity faithful to their Chris- tian profession, and induce all who " named the name of Christ to depart from iniquity." A looseness of discipline had so long prevailed in the Church of Virginia, that it was a work of great difficulty for those who preached the doctrines of salvation to illy instructed congregations, to induce them to adopt the rigid discipline of a godly life. Many of the communicants had been accustomed freely to mingle with others in the ordi- nary gayeties and pleasure of fashionable life. 7'he truly pious, among both clergy and laity, grieved over this state of things as highly injurious to the interests of the Church, and were exceedingly desirous that none should be admitted to the holy communion who would not renounce all those indulgences and pleasures which are inconsistent with the Christian profession, and which are virtually abjured in LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 173 the baptismal vow, to " renounce the pomps and vanities of this wicked world." In this right feeling the Bishop warm- ly participated ; and notwithstanding his strong reluctance to adopt any measures which might be deemed censurably rigorous or compulsory, he was desirous to adopt every lawful means, not deemed by him inconsistent with charity and prudence, for clearing the Church of the reproach brought upon her by the inconsistent lives and worldly con- formity of some who approached her altars. His views, in reference to this delicate and difficult point, are expressed in the following letter to a friend : Richmond, Oct. 23, 1817. Dear Sir, — The information you have received, relative to a correspondence between Mr. Jefferson and myself, is without foundation, would to God ! that his mind was favourably impressed towards Christianity, and that by some magnanimous effort, he would restore to the religion of our fathers, the many who have been led into skepti- cism, through the influence of his opinions. A lady assured me a few days since that he is a Socinian ; and from some things which have met my eye, I take it for granted her report is true. I cordially concur with you in your views of Church discipline, and am fully of opinion, that we may with equal propriety attempt to serve God and mammon, as to reconcile an indulgence in fashionable amusements, with the divine life; but the remedy, the remedy — how isit to be applied ? In this city, much as I wish to check the evil, I confess myself at a loss how to proceed. A tender father will use every persuasion with a disobedient child, and will bear long with his perverseness, before he will turn him out of doors. His affection for his children, makes him tremble at the effects which austerity might 174 MEMOIR OF THE produce. He is afraid that an expulsion from his society would give rise to a reaction dreadful in its tendency, and expose his offspring to evils incalculably great ! A minis- ter of the Gospel is enjoined to instruct with meekness, those who oppose themselves : and it is bis duty, " knowin g the terrors of the Lord, to persuade men." Although he is bound to be thus prudent, he is equally obliged to guard the altar; to inspect the conduct of his members; and to see that none of them bring a reproach upon the cross of Christ. In New York, the relinquishment of balls, the theatre and card table, formed the "sine qua non" of admission to the communion in my Church : but whether the temper of my present flock would submit to the same rule of conduct, God only knows. I am apprehensive it would produce a commotion overwhelming in its effects, and desolating to our interests. Were there a few lay- men of distinction in this place who would sanction the at- tempt, and enforce it with their influence, perhaps it might succeed : but in all my conversations upon the subject, with some truly excellent men belonging to my Church, they express the greatest apprehension, and I do not know at present of any who would uphold me in the conflict. I hope you will continue to reflect upon the subject; it is, indeed, of great moment, and merits the most pious and serious consideration. I have just returned from a long tour through the western part of the diocese, and shall leave Richmond in a few days to explore the counties betw^een Vork and Rappahannock rivers. I would wish some plan devised for the support of two or more missionaries; the money might be raised either by subscription, or by sermons in our Churches. Present me very respectfully and affec- tionately to Mrs. and Believe me, your sincere friend and pastor, Richard Channing Moore. LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 175 P. S. Do attend our next Convention, and let us en- deavour to ascertain how far discipline may be exercised with prudence. I could wish you to bring the question be- fore the Standing Committee, in order to know their opinion. In conformity with the suggestions of the foregoing letter, the subject was presented to the consideration of the Con- vention in 1818. A warm and animated discussion ensued, and after various attempts to evade a decision of the ques- tion, and others to procure the expression of an opinion that would have led to no good practical result, the follow- ing resolution was adopted by a unanimous vote of the clergy, and by a very large majority of the laity. *' Whereas, differences of opinion prevail as to certain fashionable amusements, and it appears desirable to many that the sense of the Convention should be expressed con- cerning them; the Convention does hereby declare its opin- ion, that gaming, attending on theatres, public balls, and horse-racing, should be relinquished by all communicants of this Church, as having the bad effects of staining the purity of the Christian character, of giving offence to their pious brethren, and of endangering their own salvation, by their rushing voluntarily into those temptations against which they implore the protection of their Heavenly Father; and this Convention cherishes the hope, that this expression of its opinion will be sufficient to produce conformity of con- duct, and unanimity of opinion among all the members of our communion." This mild but firm resolve met with the very general ap- probation of those whom it concerned. It is believed that, since its adoption, the clergy have found little difficulty in maintaining salutary discipline in their respective congre- gations ; and the Church in Virginia nownrf^spnts a bndy of r^rim 176 MEMOIR OF THE of communicants as exemplary for non-conformity to the world, and for zealous devotion to the cause of God, as can be found in any other diocese. The formation of the American Bible Society, in the year 1816, called forth a Pastoral Letter from Bishop Ho- bart, of New York, reiterating the sentiments advanced by Bishop Marsh, and others, in England, and advising Episcopalians not to give it their patronage and support ; chiefly on the ground that a union with other denominations of Christians, even for so simple and praiseworthy an object as that of distributing the word of God without note or comment, was a virtual recognition of their defective eccle- siastical organizations, and dangerous to our distinctive principles as Churchmen. The Pastoral Letter opened a discussion, which was conducted with ability on both sides, and excited a very general interest throughout the Church. Of the merits of the controversy it is not our design to speak. While we would give to both parties the credit of sincerity, we would recommend to the members of each, the exercise of mutual forbearance and charity. It is one of those nice questions of casuistry about which good men may con- scientiously differ, but which should never be allowed to produce alienation of feeling among members of the same household, who acknowledge " one Lord, one faith, one baptism." With a full knowledge of the arguments and objections urged against Bible Societies, Bishop Moore readily accept- ed the office of President in the Virginia Bible Society, in- stituted in August, 1816, as the venerable Bishop White had previously done in that of Philadelphia. Both con- tinued to hold their offices, and give to the Bible Society cause their cordial support, till death closed their earthly labours. LIFE OP BISHOP MOOKE. 177 The following letters, which themselves suiSciently ex- plain the occasion of their being written, will be of interest to the reader in this connexion. LETTER UPON' THE SUBJECT OF BIBLE SOCIETIES. March 16th, 1825. Rt. Rev. and Dear Sir, — I have suffered, during the last twelvemonth, exceedingly, with an affection of my head. It has not, indeed, been painful, notwithstanding which, it has deprived me of all comfort, been injurious to my me- mory, depressed my spirits, and at times rendered it diffi- cult for me to walk through my parish. It is, thank God, less afflicting than it has been. I entertain a hope that I shall be so far relieved as to be enabled to discharge my duties with that satisfaction I formerly enjoyed. I have noticed some of the difficulties with which you have had to contend, and judging of your feelings by my own, I have taken it for granted that the controversy must have interfered with your comfort and peace of mind. In all those matters in which the principles of the Church are concerned, our sentiments generally harmonize, but in the case of Bible Societies, we certainly differ. Of this fact you must be sensible, as I have long been a member of that institution in Virginia. You cannot, therefore, be offended with me in expressing the sorrow I felt at the discovery of those sentiments advanced by you in your late discourse at Raleigh. The opposition to the Church is so great, and the prejudice against Bishops so strong, I am afraid your discourse will not be read with that indulgence it merits, and that the public will charge us with a wish to keep the people in ignorance, and as representing the fc^acred Volume p 178 • MEMOIR OF THE as a book so completely sealed, as to deprive it of its cha- racter as a revelation from heaven. I think I have beard you remark, that the order of clergy is so plainly expressed in the Gospels, and in the Epistles of Paul, as to preclude the necessity of any other information on the subject; and that whoever will read without prejudice, must be satisfied that our views of Episcopacy are correct. Such is my opinion of the strength of those proofs to be adduced from those sources, that I entertain no particular alarm from a general diffusion of the Scriptures, and consider it my duty to promote as general a circulation of the Bible as possible. Could a Prayer Book accompany every volume of the Sacred Writings, I should be rejoiced; but as that was not the case when the Scriptures were first given to the world, I cannot see the propriety, at the present day, of making it the condition of their dissemination. In the Family Visiter, to which paper you are, I believe, a sub- scriber, a proposition was made, a few weeks since, of fur- nishing the public with a history of the Church. Sensible of tiie character which that history would sustain, I ad- dressed a piece to the Editor, under the signature of Scnex, disapproving of the plan, and expressing my fears as to the result. Though they declared their resolutions to proceed, still I perceived in the paper of last Saturday, that they have thought it prudent to omit several sections contained in the former plan, assigning as a reason, the stress laid by some Christians on their vievA's of Church government. I think that 1 perceive a general disposition in all other so- cieties to unite against us. The principle of Episcopacy is so painful to their minds, that they cannot cordially love us, and would, no doubt, do us hurt : provided it was in their power. In this State, where the Church, compared with them, is comparatively weak, I know of no weapon LIFE OF BISHOP 3IOORE. 179 SO effectual as prudence; especially as there is some diffe- rence of opinion on the subject among ourselves. With love to Mrs. R., Believe me your sincere friend and brother, R. C. Moore. Bishop RAVE^scROFT. THE REV. W. F. LEE. April 2nd, 1833. Rev. and Dear Sir, — Being a sincere friend to the dis- semination of the Sacred Scriptures, and sensible that age has deprived me of that efficiency in the discharge of duty which I once possessed, I have thought proper to return the clergy, and members of the Bible Society of Virginia, my sincere thanks for the honour they have for many years conferred on me, in electing me as their President, and to express my disposition to give place to the appointment of a younger man to fill that responsible office. I must also request you, Rev. Sir, to assure tlie Society, that I shall always derive the greatest enjoyment in the prosperity of the Bible cause; and that no effort in my power shall be wanting in the promotion of the glorious work in which they are engaged. For the space of nineteen years, my name has been enrolled on the list of its members; during which time, (it gives me pleasure to say,) we have been of one mind, and one heart. No discordant views have ever interrupted our harmony. We have prosecuted our mea- sures with a unanimity of Christian sentiment and feeling, supplicating the Almighty for his blessing on our exertions' the God of love and peace, whose favour we implored, has crowned our labours with success. Accept, dear sir, the assurances of regard, And believe me, &c. R. C. Moore. 180 MEMOIR OF THE ANSWER TO AN INVITATION" TO ATTEND THE MEETING OP THE BIBLE SOCIETY IN NEW YORK. February 9th, 1825. Dear Sir, — I have received your communication invi- ting me to attend the meeting of the Bible Society in New Yorlc; but as the Convention of the Episcopal Church will assemble in this place in the month of May, it will not be in my power to visit your city at the time specified in your letter. To forward and promote the circulation of the Holy Scriptures is my sincere wish ; and to carry that wish into effect, I have repeatedly exerted the best energies of my mind. The Bible is the word of God — a revelation intended for the benefit of every member of the human family; of course, every nieans that can be adopted to render its circulation general, must be in accordance with the Divine will. Such, I presume, is the opinion of all Protestants; and though men may differ conscientiously as to the mode in which it should be done, still, I charitably believe, that there is not a Christian belonging to our ra7iks, who does not wish well to the widest spread of divine truth. Accept my best wishes for the prosperity of the Bible cause, and with my compliments to your worthy Presi- dent, and other officers of the institution, Believe me your friend and obedient servant, Richard Channing Moore. The attachment of Bishop Moore to the peculiar doc- trines and institutions of his own Church, ardent and sin- cere though it was, as it did not restrain him from co- operating with Christians of other communions in works o LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 181 benevolence and pietv, which involved no sacrifice of prin- ciple, so neither did it prevent him from cherishing towards them every feeling of kindliness, and interchanging the tender offices of love. In the following extract from one of his conventional addresses, we recognize the overflow- ing of a truly Catholic heart, vi'ishing " grace, mercy, and peace, to all who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity :" " To promote the cause of genuine religion is our only ob- ject; and as that object is legitimate, it must succeed. We know of no enemies but the enemies of our own exalted Redeemer; we stretch forth the right hand of fellowship to all who, in sincerity, call upon the Lord Jesus Christ; we expect to meet in heaven with Christians of all deno- minations; and while we labour in our department, we wish prosperity to all the Saviour's friends. Yes, brethren, in heaven, distinctions will be done away ; we shall then be embodied under one name — ' the spirits of the just made perfect ;' and in joyful union, we will unite with them and angels in singing unto Him who loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood ; unto Jesus, the exalted, precious Jesus, be all honour and glory ascribed, forever and ever. Amen."* There are some minds so strangely constituted as to be incapacitated for " holding the truth in love.''^ They seem to suppose that an attachment to the distinctive prin- ciples of the Church must prove itself genuine by the in- dulging of an acerbity of temper towards all who do not embrace them, by uttering the most bitter reproaches against the advocates of different principles, and by keep- ing ourselves entirely aloof from all intercourse with those who are not of our communion. How wide the contrast * Journal of Convention, 1818. p2 182 MEMOIR OF THE between their course and that of the venerated subject of this memoir ! Which of them bears the closest resemblance to the example of that meek and loving Master who dealt tenderly with the unbelieving and persecuting Pharisees; and who, when some of his own disciples would imprecate fire from heaven upon a village of heretical Samaritans, said — " ye know not what spirit ye are of?" To infer from the fact of Bishop Moore's attachment to Bible Societies, and his charitable feelings towards Chris- tians of every name, that his attachment to the doctrines of the Church was feeble, and that he had no strong aver- sion to schism : or to infer from his love of associations, lecture-room services, and prayer meetings, that he did not properly appreciate the venerable Liturgy, and fixed wor- ship, and decent ceremonies of the Church, would be an act of the grossest injustice to his character. Baptized and confirmed at her altars, trained up from earliest infancy to walk in her hallowed ways, he had derived all his spiritual nutriment from her bosom: and finding in her services, doc- trines, and sacraments, all that he needed for the support, growth, and comfort of his inner man, he was ever distin- guished by his firm and undeviating adherence to the Church, as " the house of the living God, the pillar and ground of the truth." So ardent was his attachment to the Liturgy in its in- egpity — so opposed was he to any measure which might disturb the fair beauty and harmony of its proportions, that when in the General Convention of 1826, a proposal, not for a change in the Prayer Book, but for the allowance of discretion in the use of certain parts of the service, intro- duced by Bishop Hobart, was concurred in by the majority of both houses as expedient and desirable ; he was decidedly opposed to the measure as one of dangerous tendency, and LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 183 expressed his views in the following strong language at the next meeting of his Diocesan Convention. " The Secretary, brethren, will produce to the Conven- tion a letter from the Secretary of the General Convention, on the subject of certain proposed alterations in the Liturgy of the Church. It is my duty to mention, not only to the members of this Convention, but also to the members of the Church throughout the Diocese of Virginia, the fears with which my mind is impressed on this important subject. The Church has hitherto prospered in the use of the Liturgy as it has been handed down to us by our fathers. That uni- formity of worship which has distinguished us as a society, should the proposed alterations be carried into effect, would be destroyed. Instead of uniting in the same devotional exercises as we hitherto have done, every clergyman will have it in his power to select his own lessons, and to read such portions of the Psalms of David as he pleases, by which means the public worship of God in these particulars, will be as various as the constitutions of our minds. The old members of the Church, who have been taught to view the Liturgy through a medium the most sacred, will be grieved. The guards to uniformity being once removed, one inno- vation will succeed another, until the people will lose that reverence for our incomparable services by which they have been actuated, and the Church receive the most vital injury. "When we reflect upon the general esteem in which the Liturgy is viewed by the reflecting and considerate of other denominations, our opinion of its excellence should be strengthened and increased. The celebrated Dr. Clarke, of the Methodist Society, has declared that the Liturgy of the Church is second to no volume except the sacred wri- tings ; and the Rev. Robert Hall, of the Baptist Society 184 MEMOIR OF THE has expressed himself in similar language. To touch a matter of so much consequence without the deepest reflec- tion— to alter a service of such acknowledged worth with- out years of prayerful consideration, should not be ventured on. When we enter the threshold of this inquiry, we should take the shoes from off our feet, as the ground whereon we tread is holy ground. The Church in Virginia will never be induced, I trust and pray, to depart from her prescribed forms; but will defend the Liturgy in all its in- tegrity, and prove to the Christian world that we reverence the opinions ofour fathers, and are satisfied with that system of doctrine which they venerated, and which they so high- ly valued." The same jealousy which the Bishop manifest- ed in reference to any attempts to effect a[terations in the service by means of legislation, prompted him to reprove any unauthorized departure from a rubrical use of it re- sulting from individual caprice or thoughtlessness. Was there at one period a desire on the part of some few of the clergy of Virginia to deviate from the prescriptions of the rubrics by mutilating or abridging the public worship of the Church ! The censurable practice was at once rebuked with all the calmness and gentleness so becoming in a father of the Church. We find the following in his address to the Convention of 1825. " To remedy some difficulties, brethren, which have pre- sented themselves to view, I conceive it a duty incumbent on me at this time, to offer a few observations on the sub- ject of an obedience to the rubrics of the Church ; and as the clergy cannot charge me with unkindness in my in- tercourse with them, I trust my remarks will be received in the same spirit of conciliation with which they will be oflfered, and not charged to a spirit of improper domina- tion. The Church of which we are members has always LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 185 felicitated herself upon the possession of a liturgy, combi- ning with the soundest sense the purest and most sublimated devotion, a liturgy which has commanded the respect and admiration of some of the greatest and most enlightened men who have lived since the Reformation. To enable the clergy to conduct the devotions of the people in per- fect uniformity, rubrics have been attached to all the of- fices of religion, a compliance with which is required of every minister prior to his ordination. " Although the services of the Church have been thus guarded, still it has sometimes happened that a departure from the liturgy has taken place, and the beauty of our incomparable form of worship been, in some measure, de- stroyed. "When an individual, instructed in the peculiarities of our services, is engaged in the duties of the sanctuary, he can follow, with indescribable pleasure, the officiating clergy- man in the regular exercise of his office ; he is always pre- pared to unite in the prayers, and to worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness, without the least distraction of mind. But when it so happens that the clergyman is inattentive to the rubrics, the devotional exercises of the worshipper are obstructed : his mind, instead of being preserved calm and serene, becomes perplexed, and his religious feelings changed into those of disappointment, if not of displeasure. I indulge the hope, brethren, that in those instances in which the aberrations alluded to have been practised, they have arisen more from inconsideration than design ; and that it is only necessary to mention the evil to have it remedied." It is gratifying to state that these sound views were well received, and cordially responded to by the Convention, in the adoption of the following resolution : — Resolved, That 186 MEMOIR OF THE the Convention heartily concurs with the Bishop in recom- mending to the ministers a punctual observance of the same," [viz. the rubrics] " vi^arning them of the danger of yielding to the prejudices supposed to exist against the Liturgy, either in the breasts of the irreligious, or of those who may be present at our Churches, who are accustomed to other services : and particularly would they urge it upon the ministers and parents to train up the younger mem- bers of the Church in the use of the Prayer Book, as the best means of ensuring a regular and edifying use of the Liturgy, and would also recommend it to the ministers oc- casionally to expatiate on the excellencies and advantages of our incomparable service. At the same time, the Con- vention feels bound, in duty to the Church of Virginia, to state, that but few instances of departure have occurred, and, also, that there is a growing attachment to the ser- vices of the Church throughout the diocese." The following letters bear testimony that the same prin- ciples which the Bishop advocated in his public official acts, also governed him in his private intercourse with the clergy and other members of the Church. A LETTER TO ONE OF HIS CLERGY ON THE LITURGY. November 4th, 1822. Rev. and Dear Sir, — There can be no difficulty in managing the affairs of the Church, provided every member will confine himself within the bounds prescribed by the Canons; and yield due obedience to those rules which have been established by the proper authority. Your let- ter of the 22nd of October, breathed such a disposition throughout; and convinces me that I may always lean LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 187 upon your arm for support, in the discharge of every legiti- mate act of Episcopal duty. The directions which I gave Mr. , relative to the Church in , were grounded upon the letter of the canon ; and, as I thought that por- tion of the diocese most worthy of attention, I took it for granted he would have governed himself accordingly. The promises which he had made at his ordination, justified the expectation I had formed of his obedience, and satisfied my mind that he would have yielded to my wishes. The want of conformity to my directions, you assure me in your communication, proceeded from misconception, and not from intention, I should therefore be more than unkind, were I to withhold from him any good offices in my power to be- stow. It cannot, in the nature of things, be long before I shall be obliged to resign my office to some more active and efficient man. Who that man will be, Heaven only knows; but as order and conformity to principle are necessary, not only to secure the happiness of my successor, but to pro- mote the interests of the Church, it becomes the duty of all who wish well to our Zion, to guard well her bulwarks, and to see that no man overleaps his proper boundaries. My successor may not possess that accommodating dis- position, by which I have always been influenced. An op- position to lawful authority may be viewed by him, not as mistake, but design. And in such circumstances, he would think himself justified in acting upon the principle of canon law; and in enforcing that law, would produce disorder and confusion. To prevent such a state of things is every good man's duty ; and as attention to order will certainly etlect it, no man who loves the peace of the Church, can object against conformity to principle. Our laws have been enacted by ourselves ; and when we pro- 188 MEMOIR OF THE mise to obey them, we should honestly strive to carry our promises into effect. Tyranny, in either Church or state, I abhor from my heart; but as confusion, and a want of order would be equally prejudicial, we should guard against too much laxity, with as much jealousy, as against too much power. T cannot see how the Church can be secured from tumult, unless a strict compliance with principle is preserved ; and unless we are attentive to little things, we shall at last act as if there were no rules to be observed. There may be some particular points relative to order, discipline, and worship, which all do not approve; but as long as those points exist, no individual possesses the right to violate them. If the contrary principle should be advo- cated, then every man would follow the dictates of his pri- vate judgment, and all order, both in doctrine, discipline, and worship, be at an end. To return to the concerns of Mr. , you observe that ' it will be very desirable to him to know the course T would wish him to pursue.' In an- swer I have only to state, that I would wish him to pursue that path, which you may think most desirable ; and, pro- vided he adheres to the principles of the Church, during his continuance in deacon's orders, I shall think it my duty to admit him to the Priesthood, when authorised to do so by the Standing Committee. I would advise him to read all the canons with attention, as I shall, in all probability, examine him upon that subject. Believe me, Your sincere friend, Richard Channing Moore. LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 189 OiV THE USE OF THE LITURGY. November 18th, 1822. Dear Sir, — I have written this day to Mr. , upon the subject of his settlement in , offering him ray counsel, and enjoining it upon him to conform, in the dis- charge of his duties, to the doctrine, worship, and discipline of the Church. Our excellent services cannot be too stea- dily adhered to, and should he depart from our long esta- blished usages, the cause of the Church begun in your neighbourhood, under your auspices, would be much injured. The Dissenters are unwilling to concede anything to us, and should we ask them to use our Prayer-book in their assem- blies, they would soon evince their consistency by a refusal, why therefore should we, in order to please them, lay by our peculiarities, and conform to their views. I have re- quested Mr. to make you his friend and counsellor, fearing, from his youth and inexperience, that, should at- tempts be made to lead him astray, he might be disposed to yield. The Church in your part of the country will de- rive its character from the proceedings of your minister, and congregation ; it is, therefore, doubly necessary that its distinctive features should be so exhibited that the people may become acquainted with all its usages. It will rest much with you, my dear sir, to assist in the preservation of order, and you will very much oblige me, by affording Mr. that counsel and assistance, which, as a young man, he must require. Believe me, Sir, Yours, &c., &.C. Richard Chaining Moore. 190 MEMOIR OF THE TO REV. June 2nd, 1823. Rev. and dear Sir, — The frankness of character v^^hich marks your very acceptable favour of the 29th uU.> obliges me to conclude, that any advice I may propose rela- tive to the discharge of your duties in , grounded upon the Canons and rubrics of the Church, will receive every proper attention, and will be listened to with the same affection with which it will be offered. My habits of mind are such as will convince you, upon an acquaint- ance with me, that an improper interference will never be attempted, and that the object I have in view is the pros- perity of the interests of religion and the Church, and the happiness of all the clergy belonging to the diocese. A departure from our usages may be pleasing to those unac- quainted with our peculiarities, and the solemn obligations nto which we enter at our ordination ; but that departure, I am well convinced, will tend to injure the cause we have engaged to promote, and will ultimately destroy our peace, and usefulness. In a parish of such prominent importance as that over which you are placed, it would be my wish that the services peculiar to our communion should be re- gularly and canonically performed : and that the Church should be exhibited to the view of the people in all her na- tive beauty, without the least aberration whatever from the rubric. Prior to our ordination we promise that we will conform to the doctrines and ivorship of the Church ; 1 cannot, therefore, believe that any of our parishioners who know the importance of a written assurance, would wish us, after being informed of the nature of our engage- ments, to violate a declaration freely made at such a solemn LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 191 period of our lives. What assurance, I would ask, can our vestries have in our integrity, other than that they derive from our promises of fidelity ? If they see us violate our ordination vows, will that violation exalt us in their estima- tion 1 Will it not raise in their minds a suspicion that other promises, into which we may enter with them, will prove equally devoid of certainty ? The Church boasts of her uniformity. We derive a pleasure from re- flecting, that, upon the same days, and at the same pe- riod, all the members of our communion, throughout the continent, are using the same prayers, and listening to the same portions of the Scriptures. If, in one place, either by the wish of the people or the fanc}' of the minister, such and such prayers are omitted, such and such lessons are changed for others, and the decalogue overlooked, where will be our pretensions to uniformity '? Instead of things being in order, the harmony of our worship will be destroy- ed, and our whole incomparable system be changed into a chaos. I do not say that circumstances may not some- times prov2 so imperious as to justify a little departure from our excellent forms. In country places, where the people have travelled through the cold, and are destitute of such accommodations as those with which you and myself are furnished, a clergyman might plead necessity for his con- duct : a plea which would be entitled to great consideration. (A clergyman may also be indisposed, and unable to comply, and, of course, would be justifiable in the omission of some things.) But in a city, where our churches are at our doors, and where those churches are warm and comfortable, I am obliged to conclude, without a breach of charity, that the hearts of the people must be very cold, prayer a great bur- den, and the Scriptures of God too lightly esteemed, if they should consider our incomparable Liturgy too long, or our I 92 MEMOIR OF THE excellent services fatiguing. Whatever parish I enter, I feel it my duty to perform the whole service and to com- ply with all our usages. If the people are unaccustomed to the Liturgy, and to those priestly garments, consecrated by long use, they consider me an innovator ; a charge by no means agreeable to my mind. The clergyman, to jus- tify himself for his wanderings, is under the painful neces- sity of censuring his Bishop for doing his duty, or is obliged to make apologies to his people for omissions, which, to say the least of them, were improper. I wish things to be so conducted throughout the diocese, that, when a mem- ber of one parish visits another, he may feel perfectly at home ; and not have his mind disturbed either with omis- sions or additions. I know, if I were engaged as a private worshipper in the services of the Church, the devotional feelings of my heart would be distressed to perceive the officiating minister violating order ; and thus depriving me of a service to which I have a legitimate claim, and which he is bound to perform. My devotion would suffer injury, and that injury would be chargeable to the man, who, by his eccentric movement, should occasion my distress. I, there- fore, must entreat you, and ask it at your hands, and at the hands of your vestry, as a particular favour, that you will attend tothe rubrics, without the least deviation, and appear, in the discharge of your public duties, clothed in those sacred vestments, the use of which has been sanctioned by ages, and by men (in whose footsteps we may be proud to tread) first in the ranks of piety and learning. From the knowledge I have of your people, I am certain that an at- tention to these things will be pleasing to them. Many of them have told me so ; and I do not know that there is an individual among them who would refuse his sanction to the measure. LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 193 This letter has been written in reply to your respectful and affectionate communication. The sentiments it breathes are in unison with the rubrics and usages of the Church ; and they are such as will promote the interests of your parish ; and a compliance with which, I should presume, would contribute to your mental quiet, and add a lustre to your character as a priest of the Protestant Episcopal Church. Your sincere friend and father in Christ Jesus, R. C. MooRE. P. S. As there is no canon enjoining the wearing of the surplice, you will, of course, use your best discretion in the case. But as white is an emblem of purity — as it cannot be charged with being a tawdry vestment ; and as the con- gregation were, until lately, accustomed to it, I hope there will be no objections made to its use. June 4th, 1823. Rev. and Dear Sir, — Difficulties and discouraging cir- cumstances in the discharge of our public duties are by no means peculiar to yourself. We all meet with them at times, and find them burdensome and oppressive. I am frequently placed in situations in which my judgment and experience appear insufficient to direct me. Untoward circumstances present themselves when I least expect their approach, leaving me no alternative but to listen to the plain suggestions of duty, and to commit events and con- sequences to my Heavenly Father. I believe, that, in all cases, duty should form the first con- sideration. Policy, as it is called, will, in general, lead us q2 194 MEMOIR OF THE astray, and discover to us the impropriety of substituting any thing in the place of positive principle. As long as we attend to those obligations into which we have entered, we must be safe. Our adherence to principle, although it may be less pleasing to a portion of our fellow-mortals, will cer- tainly meet with the approbation of Heaven, the assent of the discerning, and secure to us the peaceful witness of our own consciences. These remarks have been elicited by the observations contained in your last communication. You have omitted, you say, parts of the Liturgy, in order to meet the views of the people of your charge, and to render them better satisfied with the service of the Church. In- stead, however, of producing the effect you contemplated, the reverse has been the result : for at the moment in which your accommodating temper has satisfied some, the sacrifices you have made, have displeased others, and have offended those who have the greatest claim to your atten- tion ; I mean the decided friends of the Church. My ad- vice would be this : Request Mr. , and those other per- sons in your neighbourhood who are acquainted with the Liturgy, to unite in the responses ; and whether the con- gregation will join or not, give them the service as it is ordered by the rubrics. This, in all possible cases, we have pledged ourselves to do; of course there can be no man, whose good opinion we would value, who will blame us for conforming to our engagements. The Scriptures, in par- ticular, should always be read, and if any should offer an objection to the measure, the very objection they ofifer is proof positive that they stand in need of the instruction which the Scriptures contain. I have officiated several times at , and have invariably used the whole service, and never have been better pleased with the responses LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 195 than at that place ; they were confined very generally, it is true, to the ladies; but as long as they were duly made, I was satisfied, whether coming from the lips of male or female auditors. How are the people to become acquainted with the Liturgy, unless the Liturgy is used ? Can our ser- vices be called the services of the Episcopal Church, unless the order of the rubrics is complied with 1 We are not sent to officiate to any denomination but our own; of course, we are not justifiable in violating our principles to meet the views of any other description of people. If I were situated in your parish, I would comply with the rules of the Church. By so doing, I should be sure of pleasing my own flock, and I do not think that I should displease the considerate of any other denomination. I am well assured, that, in conversa- tion, you always defend the usages and services of the Church: by attending closely to them, the people will think you sincere in what you say ; but should you be tempted to sacrifice them to the prejudices of those unconnected with us, the sincerity of your declarations will be questioned. The path of duty is the path of safety. Take that ground which you have pledged yourself to maintain, and you will find that you will be respected and beloved. Believe me, in great truth. Your affectionate friend and father in Christ, R. C. MoORE. January 7th, 1825. " Rev. and Dear Sir, — I am delighted to hear that you have been well received by the members of the Church in , and that your labours in the ministry are so generally acceptable. May God, who is rich in mercy, continue to 196 MEMOIR OF THE bless you, and render you useful in your day and gene- ration. " As I know, from experience, the temptations to aberrate from the Liturgy with which you will be assailed; you must pardon me, in requesting you to resist them all. We have solemnly promised to conform to the discipline and worship of the Church upon all public occasions; and however agreeable a departure from our obligations may be to some, still men of principle will venerate and respect us for our fidelity, and be pleased to see in us a scrupulous regard to our ordination vows. The above observations have not arisen from anything that I have ever heard unfavorable to your regularity, but entirely from a knowledge of those dangers to which a young clergyman of the Episcopal Church is exposed in a new settlement. Steadiness and inflexibility will, however, in time, overcome all difficulties connected with the commencement of the work ; and when other societies discover that we act from principle, they will cease to find fault with our Prayer Book, and when pre- sent, will consider themselves bound to unite with us in the celebration of our excellent services." April 29th, 1825. " It is proper for me to mention to you, that, as a lay- reader in the Church, Mr. must confine himself to the use of the Liturgy, and read such printed sermons as are approved of by the Church; for should he be ever so well qualified to exercise the duties of a religious instructor, it would be improper for him to do so, until he has been examined by the proper authority, and his competency fully established. I have felt it my duty to state this fact, LIFE OF BIsnOP 3I00KE. 197 as the canons of the Church declare, that should a candi- date for orders deliver his own composition, it would be considered a disqualification for holy orders. In the case of a lay-reader, the obligations to use the Liturgy, and to read approved sermons, are equally proper; as, without the most rigid attention to those rules, men might inculcate principles foreign to the views of the Church, and thus be productive of more injury than benefit." December 9th, 1828. " Rev. and Dear Sir, — I am pleased to perceive the in- dustry which has marked your efforts in . It proves an attachment to duty, without which, duty would prove a burden; and furnishes me with reason to believe that as your labours are delightful to your own mind, so those labours will be edifying to the people, and will secure you the blessing of God. I have always thought that if in early life a clergyman discovers an indifference to the pursuits of his calling, and a coldness in the discharge of the work in which he has engaged, that middle life will find him in a state of moral decrepitude, and advanced age in a com- plete and confirmed religious palsy. As long as our zeal is according to knowledge, we have great reason to bless and thank God for its influence on our hearts, and should daily supplicate him for an increased portion of his grace. You have a fine field of labour before you, and should the cause of religion and the Church prosper in your hands, you will have the pleasure to reflect that that prosperity has been produced by the blessing of God on your exer- tions. I have always thought that there ought to be a 198 MEMOIR OF THE Church erected at , that being the most central part, and should such an event take place, I hope it will be built, not as a general place of worship, but as an Episco- pal Church. By such a disposition of things, the rector of the parish will always be sure he is no intruder ; and will never be brought into a painful competition with other societies of Christians. " On the general plan, other ministers would have the same right with yourself; by which means opposite doc- trines would be inculcated from the same pulpit; the minds of the young would be confused, instead of being edified ; our Liturgy, perhaps, would be abused ; and discord, instead of good order, become the reigning principle. To produce peace with others, we must be strictly attached to our own principles, persevering in the inculcation of them, and never sacrificing them to please those who (experience teaches us) will make no sacrifices to please us. Ministers of other denominations, and the people too, will declare us very liberal, provided we will use extempore prayers on public occasions of worship : but should you ask them to use our Prayer-book to please us, they would soon shew you their superior consistency of conduct by a positive refusal. The truth is, the Prayer-book contains the concentrated wisdom of ages, and any man who would be willing to say he can pray more to the purpose, must be a stranger to his own powers, and to say the least of it, not remarkable for his modesty, I have a perfect confidence in your judgment, and from the knowledge I have of your excellent people, I look forward with confidence to the prosperity of our par- ticular communion." LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 199 TO A YOUNG CLERGYMAN. September 16th, 1826. " Rev. and Dear Sir, — I have received your letter in which you request my advice on the subjectof your present situation. I do not hesitate to say that all the difficulties of which you complain may be effectually removed, provided you will observe that course of conduct which I shall pre- scribe. No clergyman can be very successful, who does not form an intimate fire-side acquaintance with his parish- ioners. It is from frequent visits to the houses of his mem- bers that he secures a place in their affections. By com- municating to him their troubles, and receiving his advice, a confidence in his friendship is produced, which a Sabbath interview cannot effect. My counsel to you would be the following: Take your horse and go to every family in your parish ; breakfast with one, and pass an hour in suita- ble religious conversation with the family ; dine with a second, and pursue the same course; take a cup of tea or coffee with a third: read, converse, and pray with them all. By attending to this plan, you can visit, at the least, eighteen families in a week, and by persisting in it you will soon complete the tour through your entire district. When you have finished, devote a few weeks to your studies, then begin again, and never think the work finished, as long as you possess health, strength, and life. By so doing you will render your people your personal friends. If you should ask me, when am I to read ? I would answer, Take a few select books in your pocket, and devote an hour or two to that pursuit, before you retire at night. Men who are your friends, and who see you frequently at their houses, will endeavour to make good their promised sup- 200 MEMOIR OF THE port ; your wants will therefore all be supplied, and your mind be at rest. Should you remove into another parish, you would never be happy without pursuing the plan above prescribed : I would advise you therefore to try the experiment in , where the people think affectionately of you; and should you find my plan to fail, then write to me, and I will afford you every facility in my power to change your residence. TO A CLERGYMAN, (REVERENCE FOR SACRED PLACES.) January, 25th, 1825. Rev. and Dear Sir, — The representation you have given me of that sacred cause in which you have engaged, in , is truly encouraging, highly honourable to yourself, and beneficial to the religious community of which your society constitutes a member. All that is requisite to render your labours productive of that benefit we could wish, is firmness in the discharge of your duties. The Liturgy is certainly to be used every Sunday : and when such a man as , who, although a Presbyterian, has expressed himself in terms favourable to the Prayer-book, we should not permit the objections of others to weigh so far with us as to produce the least departure from the rubrics. By consistency of conduct on our part we shall please our friends, and all who join us, will join us as Churchmen, and of course give the preference to our incomparable Liturgy. In a letter received from Mr. , I perceive that the district under his care is equally flourishing, and I am pleased to find, that if he is to have a Church, that Church, he has resolved to consider exclusively his own. I would advise you to proceed upon the same plan. Should LIFB OF BISHOP MOORE. 201 you unite with the Masons in the erection of a building, by what name would you distinguish it? At onetime it would be devoted to the service of God, and at another time to a Masonic meeting, if not to a Masonic Ball. Were I in your place, I would rather devote the money subscribed to a Church built of logs, and ceiled within, than to a build- ing of a superior order, devoted to other purposes. Let it not be said that from these observations I am opposed to Masonry. All that I plead for is consistency ; and as I could not consecrate a building of the character alluded to, I should feel reluctant to administer the Lord's Supper within its walls. How could you commence the service with that sublime sentence in the Prayer-book, " The Lord is in his holy temple," when the house had been devoted to worldly purposes, and perhaps the evening before, the fiddler had filled its courts ? I hope that you, and your friends, may view the subject through the same medium with myself, and that you will unite in the erection of an Episcopal Church. Your friend and Father in Jesus, R. C. Moore. January 31st, 1825.] Rev. and Dear Sir, — Your letter produced in my mind a pleasure which I cannot readily find words to express. With such a view of things as you have embraced, and with such an attachment to the Church, and her incompara- ble services, I assure myself that your success will be great, and that all who unite under your ministry, will be pious and well instructed Episcopalians. I am pleased to dis- cover that your Brethren and are also engaged 202 MEMOIR OF THE with all their powers in the same noble work ; may the Lord prosper the work of your hands and hearts. I consider you correct in the stand you have taken relative to a place of worship. A free Church ever has been, and ever will prove, a bone of contention. By in- culcating from the same pulpit the propriety of Infant Baptism one Sunday, and their want of title to that Sacra- ment, the next Sabbath : by inculcating particular elec- tion one Sunday, and general redemption another : by in- culcating the use of a Liturgy to-day, and insisting upon no Liturgy to-morrow ; the minds of the people will become confused: and it will appear a matter of indifference what sentiments they cherish, and to what denomination they belong, or what system of worship they adopt. I hope that you and your brethren in the neighbourhood will strengthen each other's hands by an occasional ex- change of pulpits: live in love, tread in the path of holi- ness, be devoted to your duty, and the Almighty will crown your labours with success. Your friend and Father, R. C. MooRE. He who was thus zealous in his attachment to the Liturgy of the Church, and faithful in recommending the performance of its offices in strict conformity with the di- rections of the rubrics, was ever ready to vindicate the doctrines of the Church, and upon all suitable occasions to express his own views in reference to those about which the equivocal language of our standards leaves room for discussion and difference of opinion. A clergyman of a neighbouring Diocese having expressed to Bishop Moore m LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 203 his difficulties and embarrassments in reference to the use of the offices of Baptism, gave occasion to the following letters on the much controverted point of Baptismal Re- generation. LETTER TO REV. MR. H , ON BAPTISM. March 20th, 1823. Rev. and Dear Sir, — I cannot express to you the satisfac- tion I should reap from an attendance upon your Conven- tion, but, situated as I am, the thing appears impossible. I have no support but what I derive from my parish, of course I dare not venture to trespass loo far upon the indul- gence of my congregation. You will recollect that the Convention of Virginia is to take place in May, and after that.the General Convention. In attending that of Carolina and those two other assemblies, I should necessarily be absent two months. While Dr. Buchanan was alive to fill my pulpit, the congregation cheerfully submitted : but was I to shut my Church for such a length of time, I am confident there would be a great uneasiness excited, if not something worse. I must therefore submit to circumstances, and trammeled as I am, make the best of things. Should the Convention of N. Carolina find it impossible at this time to fix upon a suitable person to fill the Episcopal chair, let it be remembered that I have no desire to withhold my services, or to dissolve the connextion subsisting between us, but will, as far as practicable, discharge those duties for you, peculiar to my office. I shall soon, I hope, have an assist- ant ; 1 offer myself to give towards his support $500 per annum out of my salary, and, could ways and means be found to aid me effectually from other quarters, I should be at perfect liberty to absent myself from Richmond, for 204 MEMOIR OF THE any necessary length of time. I wish you to make this known to the Convention, (provided you think it expedient) and to assure them of my most affectionate and grateful regard. Should I obtain an assistant, and should you not elect a Bishop, let good Mr. Miller know that it is highly probable I shall visit his district in the course of the sum- mer : of which he shall receive timely notice. EXTRACT. " As I did not quote Bishop Hopkins upon the subject of Baptismal Regeneration, you had a right to conclude that I did not rely much upon his support. Calvinism is the point upon which he stumbles ; notwithstanding which, he says, in vol. 2nd, page 423, Edition, ' that Baptismal Regeneration must be acknowledged by all, that will not wilfully shut their eyes against the clear evidence of Scrip- ture.' His expression is stronger than I should use upon the occasion, as it would deny every principle of charity to those who differ from me on the question. You remark ' that, according to my view of the 3rd chapter of John , baptism by water is as necessary to salvation, as the bap- tism of the Spirit. If I understand you rightly, the latter cannot take place without the former.' I feel confident that Hooker, in the quotation I have already given you, had his eye upon that passage of Scripture, in order to do away the very objection you make. He qualifies his asser- tion by saying — * as we are not naturally men without birth, so neither are we Christian men in the eye of the Church of God, but by new birth, nor, according to the manifest and ordinary course of divine dispensation, new born, but by that baptism which both declareth and maketh us Christians.' The Almighty appoints his own I in^ LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 205 ordinances, and it is our duty to comply with them, but I am not obliged to believe that he is tied down, and con- fined exclusively to those rules which are given for our observance. Paul was converted in a miraculous manner; but you cannot, I think, show me, where he is represented as regenerated and his sins washed away, prior to his bap- tism. If we rob the ordinance of its spiritual influence, we render it a mere ceremony. Now I would ask you as a good Christian, which in my heart I believe you to be. Would the Saviour and his Apostles have laid such an unbounded stress upon a mere ceremony? Would Saul, after his conversion, have been referred by Christ himself to Ananias, for the performance of a mere ceremony ? Would Ananias have said, 'arise and be baptized and wash away thy sins,' if baptism had been a mere ceremony ? Would he have enjoined the Sacrament of baptism upon Saul, if his sins had been washed away at any preceding period ? The subject is indeed too copious to be fully discussed in a letter of usual length, and I have dropped the few hints contained in this communication, merely to show you that my sentiments are in unison with those of the judicious Hooker, upon the subject. It has been said, by wise men, that metaphysical science is unfriendly to religion. It certainly is so, when we lay down systems, and make Scripture bend to those we establish. Hooker and Beve- ridge were men of sound sense; but I perceive that, in all their writings, systems are made to yield to Scripture. Such is my plan. I know that my understanding, in mat- ters of religion, is confined to what has been revealed; I therefore take my Heavenly Father at his word; and with- out presuming to question principles which are beyond my comprehension, and which my blind reason cannot fathom, I believe what is commanded must be right, from a con- r2 206 MEMOIR OP THE viction that the God of love can do nothing that is wrong. From my soul I wish that your mind was as fully satisfied upon the subject of baptism as mine is. Newton, in one of his hymns, says, " do not reason, but believe." If I was to believe nothing but what I can perfectly understand, I should stop at the very threshold ; for I confess that 1 am as incapable of embracing in my understanding the princi- ple of the first great uncreated cause of all things, as an infant; and yet my mind embraces the principle as fully as if 1 was perfectly acquainted with the whole subject. That we may both have our minds illumined, as it is ne- cessary they should be, is the prayer of your Sincere friend and father in Jesus, R. C. Moore." TO REV. MR. H ON BAPTISM. Richmond, Dec, 7tb, 1823. Rev. and Dear Sir, — A great variety of circumstances have prevented me from attending to your last favour at an earlier period than the present moment. Inclination, and a regard for your peace of mind upon the subject of Baptism, would have produced an immediate reply; but as my time is not my own, I will, without further preface, proceed to make such remarks as grow out of the subject in question. Metaphysical reasoning very frequently in- volves the inquirer after truth in diflicuUies, to which an honest and untutored mind is not subject. We often estab- lish premises which are at variance with Scripture pre- cept, and, of course, our deductions cannot be in harmony with the text. This I conceive to be the case with bap- tismal regeneration. The Calvinist says, that all who re- LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 207 ceive grace shall infallibly persevere ; of course, those who fall into sin after baptism, and die impenitent, never had grace. As I do not subscribe to the doctrine of persever- ance to the extent maintained by the followers of Calvin, as I believe that man may resist grace, and finally perish ; the dilemma in which the strict Calvinist is involved, does not bear upon my opinions, and leaves me at liberty to believe that the sacraments of the Lord Jesus are no nul- lities, but gracious and holy means, worthy of their Divine Author, and consistent with the dispensation of mercy re- vealed in the Gospel. You ask for Scripture proof in favour of divine grace as an attendant upon Baptism duly administered. When the Lord Jesus was baptized by the Baptist, I perceive from the sacred oracles, that the Holy Ghost descended upon him ; and that a voice from heaven proclaimed him as the beloved Son of the Most High God. In the third chapter of St. John's Gospel, I see the doctrine of baptismal regeneration fully established. Our Saviour told Nicodemus that he must he born again ; and when he expressed his surprise at the declaration, our Saviour explained his meaning, by saying: " Except a man be born of water, and of the Spirit, he.cannot enter into the kingdom of God." After which assertion, he proves the reference he had to his first declaration, by again observing : " Marvel not that I said unto thee, ye must be born again." When Peter preached to the Jews, he connected grace with bap- tism in these words: "Repent, and be baptized, every one of you, for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost; for the promise is to you and your children." When Paul speaks upon the subject to Titus, he also connects the two together: "The washing of re- generation, and the renewing of the Holy Ghost." The Church, in her services, most undoubtedly combines the 208 MEMOIR OF THE Holy Spirit with the external use of water, and teaches us to thank God for having regenerated the child with his Holy Spirit. When I reflect upon the piety and good sense of those who drew up the Liturgy, 1 am obliged to think that they had such reasons to justify the expressions, as were satisfactory to their own nninds, and in perfect unison with the Scripture passages I have just quoted. Bishop Taylor declares, " Baptism is a new birth, by which we enter into the new world, the new creature, the bless- ings and spiritualities of the kingdom. From this time forward, we have a new principle put into us, the spirit of grace." Bishop Wilson observes : " Regeneration, or new birth, is that spiritual change which is wrought by the Holy Spirit, upon any person in the use of baptism." Bishop Beveridge remarks : " That we may be born of the Spirit, we must be born also of water, which our Saviour puts in the first place. It is the ordinance appointed by Christ, wherein he regenerates us by his Holy Spirit. He that would be born of the Spirit must be born of water also." Hooker declares : " As we are not naturally men without birth, so neither are we Christian men in the eyes of the Church of God, but by new birth; nor, according to the manifest ordinary course of divine dispensation, new horn; but by that baptism which declareth and maketh us Christians. In which respects, (now mark his words,) we justly hold it to be the door of our actual entrance into God's house, the first apparent beginning of life, a seal, perhaps, to the grace of election before received ; but to our sanctification here, a step that hath not any before it." The learned Mede illumines his representation of the blessing attendant upon baptism, by a bold, vigorous, and sublime idea. He carries his reader back to the baptism of the Lord Jesus. He shows him the Holy Ghost as an ac- LIFE OP BISHOP MOOHE. 209 companiment of that ordinance, visibly descending upon the Redeemer, in the shape of a dove, and then remarks: " In that baptism of his, the mystery of all our baptisms was visibly acted ; and that God says to every one truly baptized, as he said to him in a proportionable sense, ' Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.' " I have Hooker's fifth book of Ecclesiastical Polity now before me, from which I intended to make some further quotations ; but as his observations are so lengthy, and so excellent, T must refer you to that work upon the subject ; confident that, by a careful perusal of it, your difficulties will all vanish, and give way to the force of his conclusive reasoning. I can feel for your embarrassment, because I once was simi- larly situated. My perplexity arose, not from Scripture, but from my having laid down false premises in my own mind, and then drawing from those premises false conclu- sions. I would advise you to read the third of John, Peter's address to the Jews, and Paul's definition of baptism, in his Epistle to Titus ; and divesting your mind of all precon- ceived opinions, ask yourself the question. What construc- tion would a rational man, who had never heard of baptism, nor read upon the subject, put upon those passages? What construction would a man, who was an entire stranger to the divinity of the schools, put upon our Saviour's remarks to Nicodemus, Peter's address to the Jews, and Paul's expression to Titus? If lam not mistaken, your honest mind will conclude, that he would think, and believe, that baptism forms the regeneration of which we are treating ; and that he would consider the Holy Spirit as an attendant upon the ordinance. Should a child, after baptism, fall into sin, I could not, in my conscience, consider his fall as a proof that he never had grace, any more than I should consider an adult who falls into sin, after being duly awa- 210 MEMOIR OF THE kened and converted to God, never to have had grace. Peter fell subsequent to his glorious testimony concern- ing the Saviour; a testimony vi^hich the Saviour SRid,JIesh and blood had not revealed to him. If once we take the ground that all who have grace must and shall infallibly persevere, then we immediately must believe, that all who do not persevere never had grace; and, consequently, maintain the soul-appalling and unscriptural doctrine of preterition or reprobation. " God is love," and, therefore, delights not in the death of a sin- ner. He says that " he will have all men to be saved, and to come to the knowledge of the truth ;" and, when he re- vealed himself to Moses, he furnished that prophet, and us, with the most animating, soul-inspiring view of his good- ness and mercy ; representing himself in colours the most benevolent, amiable, and encouraging ; in the character of a compassionate Father, whose love is universal, embracing all his children — affectionate, tender-hearted, and merciful. " The Lord God, merciful and gracious." Those who be- lieve in reprobation are welcome to all the gloomy horrors inseparable from the doctrine. For my own part I do not believe one word of it, neither do I think I ever can while I retain my senses. When God tells me that he delights not in the death of the wicked, why should I not believe my Maker ? When he tells me that the Saviour is the pro- pitiation for the sins of the whole world, why should I dis- credit the assertion ? When he says, that we will not come unto him, that we may have life, why should 1 endeavour to exonerate the offender, by saying that he cannot go, and charge the fault to my heavenly Father ? With my latest voice 1 hope to proclaim the riches of redeeming grace, and to assert in my last moments that " God is love." I wish you lived nearer to me, that we might converse freely LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 211 and fully upon that subject, which I believe to be the near- est to your heart, namely, the salvation of the human race. By an interchange of sentiments we should enliven each other, and derive fresh strength from conversation. As long as I have reason to believe that the mercy of God has been extended to me, I cannot doubt of the kindness of the Almighty toward my fellow creatures. If he had not been the very being which he represents himself to be, a mer- ciful God ! I should have been a stranger to the covenant of his mercy, for I sinned against him with my eyes open. He has redeemed me by his blood, works in me by his Holy Spirit, and, provided I do not expel that spirit from my heart, he will receive me into heaven : which may God grant to be the case with you, my beloved friend : and all that you and I love and hold dear upon earth. Give my love to Mrs. H., and believe me, Your sincere friend, and father in Christ Jesus, Richard Chaining Moore. In common with most others who have long been in the ministry. Bishop Moore was grieved at the migratory habits of too many of the clergy. He^ deemed a fixed residence important, if not essential, to their extensive and perma- nent usefulness. He attached much sacredness to the rela- tion between pastor and people, and deemed the frequent sundering of it as attended with serious evils, and likely to produce a deleterious effect upon the character of the ministry and the welfare of the parishes. It would be well for those who are given to change, and for those who are beset with temptations to seek for an increase of usefulness or comfort, by removing from the post of duty in the Church which Providence has assigned them, to ponder 212 MEMOIR OF THE the wise counsels contained in the following extracts from letters to two young clergymen of the Church. LETTER TO A CLERGYMAN. Jan. 25, 1832. Rev. and dear Sir, — I am grieved to find, from your late communication, that you cannot make yourself happy in your present cure. If you have not forgotten, you assured me that you considered it a situation in which you thought you would be peculiarly useful ; that the salubrity of its chme would agree with your constitution and contribute to your health. After such a representation, made of your own accord, you cannot, with propriety, wonder, that I should be afflicted at your desire to leave that people as sheep without a shepherd, and to look for a new situation. You remark, in your letter, that the people of dis- covered a disposition to obtain your services. To a settle- ment with them, I have no objection. Should they con- tinue to encourage you, and should they invite you to a settlement with them, provided it meet with your appro- bation, accept their offer, and enter with spirit upon the discharge of your duties. There are a number of vacant parishes calling for clerical help. is now destitute, in which parish there are two good Churches and a good con- gregation; among whom, I am sensible, I would be happy and contented. , is also vacant, in which a single man, devoted to his duty, would find ample support. They have an excellent church, and also a respectable congregation. Several churches, in the Northern Neck of Virginia, are anxious to settle ministers, in one of which Mr. , whom I ordained last summer, would have settled, had he not been LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 213 prevented going there by a violent affection of one of his limbs. If you are disposed to visit the place I have men- tioned, let me know, and I will give you the necessary let- ters. Before you conclude to settle in any place, reflect deeply on the subject, and, when your mind is made up on the occasion, enter on the discharge of your duties with spirit ; never expect to fix yourself in any parish, in which everything will be agreeable, but endeavour to meet your difficulties with fortitude, enduring hardness as a good sol- dier of Jesus Christ. A frequent change of residence will operate to the disadvantage of any man. Endeavour to be Stationary in your habits, and in so doing Providence will take care of you, and promote you in due time ; but, should j^ou be found frequently on the wing, depend upon it, such a disposition will prove a disadvantage to you through life. I have dropped the above remark from motives of a sin- cere and fatherly regard, they are such as I should present to the view of my son, and endeavour to impress on his mind in indelible c! aracters. I remain, very affectionately. Your friend and father in the ministry, Richard Channing Moore. Rev. and dear Sir, — Since the receipt of your last let- ter I have been deeply engaged in reflecting upon its con* tents ; and weighing, in the balance of a sober judgment, the course most proper for me, as your sincere friend, to adopt. At one time I had concluded that it would be best to preserve silence, knowing that my views of those mea- sures proper for you to pursue, are at variance with your own; and, fearful that you might suppose me to be actua- ted, more by a love for the Church, than a regard to your s 214 MEMOIR OF THE interests. The afTection, however, which I entertain for you has overcome my scruples ; and, although my opinions may not be thought worthy of attention, still, as I should feel myself condemned, were I to withhold them, I have concluded to present them to your view. My family have heard me express the apprehensions under which my mind laboured, upon being made acquainted with your visit to . My recollections told me, that you had preached there repeatedly, consequently that the people were ac- quainted with your talents as a public speaker ; and my ex- perience told me, that the surest way to obtain the place, was to conceal, in a dignified way, your anxiety; and, by that means, to have produced in the minds of the vestry, at least an uncertainty as to your acceptance. A female of virtue, conscious of her worth, will be wooed, and, in proportion to her apparent indifference, will be pursued by her admirers; while another, who appears anxious to com- pass her objects, will frequently come short of her mark. I have brought forward the above strong figure in order that the truth of my position may force itself upon your mind, and serve you as a Vade mecum, upon all future oc- casions. To prove it correct, attend to the following re- marks. To the rectorship of St. Stephen's and also to this place, I was called, without ever having officiated in either Church. It is a maxim in philosophy that water will find its level. It is a law of nature, and cannot be controlled without great obstructions are raised against it. A man of good talents and established reputation will rise. It is the law of nature, and cannot be controlled, unless the indi- vidual obstructs his own course. If I was of your age, and wished to be promoted, I would attend to my duties in that place in which it hath pleased God to fix me, thereby re- ceiving the approbation of my parishioners : influencing LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 215 them, by my fidelity, to speak well of me, and wait with patience, until Heaven pointed out, with the finger of Pro- vidence, the path for me to pursue. Let the Almighty lead you, and all will be well; but the moment you attempt to lead the Almighty, disappointment will al- most invariably follow. Jonah did not like his embassy to Nineveh, and soon found himself in the whale's belly. When he complied with the letter of his commission, the Almighty owned him, elevated him in the opinion of socie- ty, and blessed his labours. 1 mention this as a proof that it is better to follow than to lead Providence. Your good sense will prevent you from being offended at my honesty, as it is my duty to guard and to advise you. My motive is pure. It proceeds from affection to you and to all con- nected with you. Mr. left this diocese to go to a city, I have expressed to him my fears, and time will prove the truth or absurdity of my prediction. Mr. has been called as assistant to Bishop , who is seated in the bosom of his friends. I will write to , and endea- vour to ascertain what can be done in the parish. Write freely to me on all subjects. Remember me to your family, and believe me, With great regard, Your sincere friend, Richard Chaxning Moore. Feb. 26, 1822. The principles by which Bishop Moore was guided in the exercise of his office, and in the performance of the re- sponsible and multifarious duties which devolved upon him as a Bishop in the Church of God, have been sufficiently indicated in the preceding parts of this Memoir, and espe- # 2 1 6 MEMOIR OF THE cially in those letters which have been offered for Ihe reader's perusal in the present chapter. It is unnecessary to give a more minute statement of his principles. Suffice it to say, theyv^'ere such as he had learned in the school of Christ. Being deduced from the inspired volume, and fully recognized in the Articles, Liturgy, and Homilies of the Church, he became more and more confirmed in them by his experience of their practical influence in the different spheres and stages of his protracted ministry. To the enforcement and propagation of those principles, his life vi'as devoted with unwavering zeal and persevering energy. Having passed the meridian of life before entering upon his Episcopate, it is a matter of astonishment to us that, in addition to the duties of a large parish, he should have been enabled to accomplish such an amount of labour as was required of him in the visitations of his diocese. The record of every year shows that he was always con- scious of the vast responsibility imposed upon him in the care of all the Churches, and ever anxious to discharge it to the full extent of his ability. He took many journies of great extent, and was daily employed in the public per- formance of his high duties as an ambassador of God. Not content with the perfunctory discharge of his official work in the Churches, we often find him indulging in his favourite habit of lecturing in private houses, not only in his own parish, but on his visitations of others. Wherever he went, multitudes hung upon his lips; his services awakened the deepest interest; and labouring in season, and out of season, not only in the temple, but from house to house, he had the happiness of knowing that his work was not in vain in the Lord ; sinners were turned from the error of their ways, and believers edified in faith and love. In addition to the heavy duties of his own diocese, he, in LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 217 compliance with the request of the Church in that state, assumed the provisional charge of the diocese of North Carolina, and continued to perform the necessary Episcopal duties there from the year 1819 until 1823, when the Rev. John S. Ravenscroft, one of the clergy of Virginia, having been elected and consecrated Bishop, reHeved him of this part of his labour. The services of Bishop Moore in that diocese, were highly acceptable and useful, and contri- buted, by God's blessing, to lay, broad and deep, the foun- dation of its future prosperity. The Bishop's encouragement under the multiplied and oppressive cares of his official station, was derived from firm reliance upon the Divine promises ; from his rich ex- perience of the Divine blessing in the harvest he was per- mitted to reap, even while engaged in sowing the seed ; and from the aflfectionate confidence he reposed in the cor- dial co-operation of a united, zealous, evangelical clergy. Often did he give expression to his feelings in language fer- vent and glowing, like that of the following extract from one of his conventional addresses. " When travelling through this extensive diocese, fatigued with labours peculiar to the station which I occupy, my spirits are always revived by recurring to that noble prin- ciple which forms the soul of this Convention, and which animates the bosom of each individual member. It is to raise our Zion from the dust, to build up her prostrated altars, and to furnish the people of our communion with the bread of life, that we are labouring. Jehovah, from his throne of mercy, looks down with approbation, and whispers to our hearts, ' Well done, good and faithful ser- vants.' When the ruins of our desolated temples meet my eye, and the religious privations of the people are present- ed to my view, my soul is overwhelmed with those reflec- s 2 218 MEMOIR OF THE tions peculiar to the case. Considering the enemy of man- kind as the origin of the desolation and distress which I be- hold, a new impetus is communicated to my mind. The cross of the Lord Jesus Christ is presented to my view, and, ' Lo ! I am with you always,' revives my heart, and impels me to renewed exertion. To labour in the vineyard of the crucified Saviour, has formed my chief delight for the last thirty-two years of my life ; and though the power of doing good is in a degree abridged by an increase of years, still my incHnation is as great as it has ever been ; and if I can add one stone to the sacred edifice, and see the Church of my fathers placed upon that sacred height to which the apostolic purity of her doctrines entitles her, I shall commit my head to the pillow of death with satisfac- tion, and leave my best blessings to those who shall sur- vive me. " When I look around me, and, with anxious solicitude, view those labourers engaged with me in the work ; when 1 witness their zeal, and listen to the sacred truths they deliver; when I hear the name of Jesus, and the triumphs of redeeming grace proclaimed l)y youthful lips; when I see the standard of the cross erected in every pulpit; when I hear the Redeemer proclaimed as the Lord our righteousness, the only hope of the believer; when I see the ministers of the Church leading their flocks to the Saviour, as ' the way, the truth, and the life ;' when I behold those Avho have been set apart to the sacred minis- try by the imposition of my hands, treading in the steps of Hall, Davenant, and Hooker; conducting their fellow- mortals, not to Socrates and Seneca for relief, but to that fountain which was opened on Calvary for the salvation of a ruined world; the wilderness and the solitary places of the Church appear stripped of their weeds, and are pre- •^ LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 219 sented to my enraptured view in all the verdure ofprimi' live times. Brethren, we have much cause of gratitude to God for the mercies conferred upon us ; and though all has not been done that we could have wished, still enough has been effected to convince us that the Lord is with us, and that Jehovah smiles upon our efforts." While the venerable father entertained a strong regard for all his sons in the ministry possessed of the valuable traits of professional character enumerated in the foregoing extract, he cherished an especial warmth of attachment for those who were in the diocese when he came to it, and had faithfully shared his solicitude and labours in the work of its resuscitation. Of these, Norris and Wilmer, both natives of Maryland, who had removed to the diocese of Virginia at an early period after their ordination, and, in the important stations they respectively occupied, had cheerfully borne "the heat and burden of the day," with whom he had often " taken sweet counsel together," and by whose affectionate attentions he had hoped to be soothed amidst the infirmities of advanced years and the weakness of decaying nature, were both unexpectedly taken away in the midst of their years and usefulness, while their vene- rable Bishop and friend remained, with his eye undimmed, and his natural force almost unabated. The Rev. Oliver Norris, for many years Rector of Christ Church, Alexandria, was one of the most amiable and lovely of men. In him great sweetness of natural dis- position was sanctified by the graces and adorned with all the virtues of religion. As a preacher, while he shunned not to proclaim the terrors of the law to the wicked, it was his peculiar delight to offer peace and pardon through Christ crucified to the contrite, and announce the full 220 MEMOIR OF THE mercies of redemption to the true believer. As a pastor, he was tender, assiduous, and watchful. He closed a min- istry marked with fidelity and success, and a life of faith, beautifully confirmed and illustrated by the duties of holi- ness, in a death full of tranquility and hope, in August 1825. The decease of Mr. Norris is thus noticed in the report of the Trustees of the Theological School for 1826 : " In performing this annual duty, the trustees have first to re- cord a dispensation of Providence which has created a vacancy in the Board by the death of a beloved brother who departed this life in August last. In the decease of the Rev. Mr. Norris, the Diocese of Virginia has lost one of the earliest and best of those ministers whom Providence raised up to bear the heat and burden of reviving our fast expiring Church, and our Seminary is called to part with an old and constant friend. " Just as he was preparing to perform some further duty assigned him by the Board at its last meeting, it pleased the great Head of the Church to call him to a higher service and greater honour in the Church above." The Rev. William H. Wilmer, D. D., first rector of St. Paul's Church, Alexandria, while no less distinguished by the graces of personal religion and ministerial fidelity than his brother and fellow labourer in the work of the Gospel in the same city — was possessed of wider influence and greater activity in the concerns of the Diocese and the Church at large. His sound Church principles, strong judgment, and varied learning, not only secured for him a high rank among the chief ministers and safe counsellors of the Church in Virginia, but gave him such weight of character in the Church of this Union, that he was, for several successive sessions, chosen President of the House of LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 221 Clerical and Lay Deputies in General Convention, and the duties of that high station were performed by him with a degree of ability, dignity, and impartiality, that insured the affectionate confidence and respect of the whole re- presentative body of the Church. His occasional sermons and controversial writings were highly respectable produc- tions, and his " Episcopal Manual" is a work of permanent merit — presenting as faithful a compendium of the doc- trines of the Church, and as able a vindication of her min- istry, government and Liturgy, as can be found in any volume of the same size. In connexion with the rectorship of St. Paul's he continued to perform the duties of a Pro- fessorship in the Seminary, until he was called to the Pre- sidency of William and Mary College, and the rectorship of Bruton parish, Williamsburg, where, after a short resi- dence, he died in 1827. At the Convention next succeeding the death of Mr. Norris, no Episcopal address was delivered ; but in that of 1828, the loss of Dr. Wilmer is thus noticed : " In touching on the subject of the bereavement we have experienced in the death of our beloved Wilmer, it is im- possible for me to find language sufficiently strong to ex- press that sense' of his loss which fills my mind. He was one of those who first called my attention to this Diocese ; and of the three clergymen who corresponded with me on that subject, one only now remains. He, I trust, will be spared to assist you with his counsel when my head will be slumbering in the tomb. " To the usefulness of Dr. Wilmer, we must all subscribe. He was a man of business and of piety. He loved his God, and the interests of the Church were near his heart. As a preacher, he was faithful, energetic, eloquent. He was the friend of evangelical religion, and considered that the 222 MEMOIR OF THE strictest regard to the public order of the Church was per- fectly compatible with the most animated 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 his con- gregation. He was always ready to discharge his duty. Like the apostle Paul, he not only taught his people pub- licly, but went from house to house, exhorting them to prepare to meet their God. His fidelity in the discharge of his duty met my warmest approbation ; and if it is your wish, my brethren of the clergy, to give an account of your stewardship with joy, oh, let me entreat you all to ' go and do likewise.' " The loss of such valuable fellow laborers would, at any time, have proved a heavy affliction to one who loved so sincerely and tenderly as Bishop Moore did, but it was felt the more deeply because, about that period, he suffered severely from repeated visitations of a painful disease, which had led him to apprehend that he would soon be subject to the permanent and incurable infirmities of age, or that his earthly career would be brought to a sudden termination. Unlike most men, he was not desirous to be thought younger than he really was; but on the contrary, even at the age of sixty-three or before, he was accustomed to speak almost as freely of his trembling limbs, gray hairs, and failing energies, as he did when he had become a patriarch of nearly fourscore years. About this time his avowed design of retiring from his Diocese when he should become incapacitated for his duties began to be generally spoken of as about to be carried into execution. In the year 1825 he wrote the following letter to a friend in reference to that rumor : LIFB OP BISHOP MOORE. 223 Richmond, January 11th, 1825. Dear Sir, — The rumor which has reached you relative to my removal, has arisen from my endeavours to procure an assistant: and also from my determination to retire, should my health be so imperfect as to prevent me from the discharge of public duties. All that I have said has been founded upon the basis of my bodily indisposition, and the reluctance I feel in holding an office, the duties of which, that bodily indisposition would prevent me from fulfilling. Although all your judicious efforts for the sup- port of the Episcopate have failed, and although I believe your greatest exertions will continue to fail, until the opin- ion of one or two gentlemen can be changed upon the sub- ject, still I will afford you every countenance in my power, by recommending the measure to the members of the next Convention. As I never expect to reap any advantage from the Episcopal fund, I may perhaps be so fortunate as to escape unkind remarks from the disclosure of my views; and I believe it will not be very long before the opposers of the measure will see their error. I shall content myself with an assurance of their approbation at some future day. Had we all been Episcopalians in the strict sense of the word, the Church of Virginia would not have been in her present languid condition. We had most of the principal people with us, and if they had been united in sentiment, acting in accordance with the spiritual government to which we belong, we should have commanded their respect and obtained their support. Parity of order and the doc- trine of Episcopacy are two distinct things, and to incorpo- rate them is as much impossible as to unite water with oil. The Committee and myself must take special care that we do not lose sight of the above principle. Your letters 224 MEMOIR OF THE always afford me so much pleasure, that T must request you to repeat them, as frequently as your avocations will permit. With compliments to Mrs. , and family, Believe me Your sincere friend and Pastor, Richard Channing Moore. Having, by an arrangement with the Convention and with the vestry of the Monumental Church, enjoyed the aid of an assistant in his parish, it soon became evident to himself and his friends that he required assistance also in the duties of his large and increasing Diocese. According- ly in his conventional address of 1828, the making the necessary provision for this object was thus strongly re- commended. " Before I conclude, there is one more point to which I think it my duty to call the attention of this Convention: and as a year must necessarily elapse before a final de- termination of the question can take place, we shall have full time allowed us for reflection and consideration. " Although my labours the past year have been equal to those of any preceding twelve months, still from my ad- vanced age, it is impossible for me to calculate upon a long continuance of such effort and exertion. It is my wish, provided the Convention should think proper, so to alter the constitution of the Church as to admit of the consecra- tion of either a suffragan, or an assistant Bishop in this Diocese. It was proposed several years ago, in consequence of the great extent of this Diocese, to divide it into two parts, in order that the parishes might receive Episcopal visitations more frequently than is prescribed by the canons. As this purpose can be secured by the appointment of a LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 225 suffragan, or an assistant Bishop, I would recommend it to the Convention so to alter the constitution as to secure the contemplated measure. It is my sincere desire that a Bishop should be appointed during my life ; and as such an appointment can now be made with perfect unanimity, it is expedient that it should be done. It will give me pleasure to unite in labour with the man of your choice. It will render me happy in the hour of my departure, to know the individual to whom I am to resign the arduous duties of the Episcopate ; to whose care this peaceful, quiet Diocese shall be committed. May the Almighty direct us in all our doings with his most gracious favour, and further us with his continual help." In compliance with the earnest desire thus expressed, the G)nvention adopted the necessary preliminary measures, and at the earliest practicable period effected the proposed change in the constitution, and immediately proceeded to act under it by electing the Rev. Wm. Meade, D. D., assistant Bishop of the Diocese. The lovely character, well known talents, and unaffected piety of this gentle- man rendered him an almost universal favourite in his native state — while his long and faithful labours for the good of the Church had secured for him an amount of influence possessed by no other clergyman in the Diocese, and proved him well adapted to the work of Episcopal supervision. But in the very act of complying with the wish of their venerable father by choosing an assistant in the labours of the Episcopate, the Convention, for some reason unknown and unexplained, saw fit to refuse him the gratification he had desired in knowing the individual to whom he would resign the charge of the Church on his demise, by withholding from the assistant the right of suc- cession, and reserving to itself the power of electing a sue- T 226 MEMOIR OF THE LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. cessor to the Diocesan Bishop after his decease. This re- striction was so unacceptable to the General Convention of 1829, that, although no objection was made to the charac- ter and qualifications of the Bishop elect, the House of Clerical and Lay Deputies were far from being unanimous in signing the required testimonials, and the House of Bishops, before proceeding to the consecration, entered their protest against the principle involved in the restric- tion as of dangerous tendency, and expressed the confident hope and belief that the Virginia Convention, even if the legality of their act in this particular should be conceded, would rescind it, from regard for the purity of the Epis- copate and the harmony of the Church. This hope was not disappointed. The Virginia Convention of 1830, by a large majority removed the objectionable restriction, and cordially approved of the canon adopted in General Convention of the preceding year, prescribing the circum- stances under which assistant Bishops may be elected, de- fining their duties, and securing to them, in all cases, the right of succession to their diocesans, should they survive them. This result was highly gratifying to Bishop Moore. He now not only had the pleasure of sharing his arduous duties with a faithful assistant, but enjoyed the additional happi- ness of knowing that, whenever it should please Providence to take him to his rest, the charge of his " peaceful and quiet Diocese" would devolve upon one who was worthy of confidence and love. CHAPTER VI. From 1829 to 1841. The expediency of having Assistant Bishops. Canonical restrictions as to their election, growing out of the case of Virginia. Bishop Moore's letter expressing his gratification at the election of Bishop Meade. A valuable relief to him. Performs Episcopal duties in Maryland. Con- servative influences in the Church. Assisted at the consecration of Bishop Stone and preached on the occasion. His continued delight in Associa- tions and Revivals. Recommendation of weekly ffe rings. Inadequate support of the clergy. Missionary efforts recommended. His zeal for the Church, and readiness to defend it. Letters of condolence. Prayer for an inquirer after truth. His ardent love for his children. Specimens of his domestic correspondence. His opinion of the " Tracts for the Times." Was he a High or Low Churchman ? He did all in a spirit of prayer. His love for the meetings of the Virginia Convention, and farewell addresses at their close. His frequent excursions. Visit to Baltimore in the fall of 1839, and again in 1840, to assist in the consecration of Bishop Whitting- ham. His visit to Westchester, Pa., in August, 1841. Attendance at the General Convention. Strong testimony in reference to Foreign Mission- ary Bishops. Visitation to Lynchburg — statement of his last illness and death. The monument erected over his remains. Sketch of his character. Conclusion. The question of the expediency of having such officers in the Church as Assistant, or SufTragan Bishops, is one at- tended with great difficulties. The General Convention was actuated by a wise and prudential regard for the quiet and prosperity of our dioceses, in prohibiting the appoint- ment of Suffi-agan Bishops, and in restricting the privilege of electing an Assistant Bishop to those cases of great ne- cessity, when the " old age, or other permanent cause of 228 MEMOIR OF THE infirmity," renders the Bishop of the diocese " unable to discharge his Episcopal duties;" in requiring the assist- ant to confine himself to the " performance of such Episco- pal duties and to the exercise of such Episcopal authority as the Bishop shall assign him — except the inability of the Bishop to make such assignment shall be declared by the Convention;" and in declaring that there "shall never be more than one Assistant Bishop in a Diocese at the same time." In the absence of such rigid legislation on the subject, we might conceive of a variety of evils and disorders that would arise from the allowance of this description of offi- cers in the Church. To say nothing of those which might result from the vaulting ambition of assistants, (and we must remember that human nature, in its best estate, is ex- ceedingly corrupt, and that no elevation, even in ecclesias- tical office and dignity, affi^rds exemption from its common infirmities and passions;) we might naturally expect that the Senior Bishop would look with a feeling of jealousy and distrust upon the rising honours and influence of his junior associate, fearing that his own would decrease ex- actly in proportion as those of the other increased : that the more active " overseer" would receive all the credit of the prosperity and good that might be achieved by their joint superintendence and labours ; that his lustre would be extinguished before the brightness of the culminating star which had more recently arisen ; till at length, shorn of every thing which constitutes the true glory of his office, he would be pitied as an imbecile who had outlived his use- fulness, rather than venerated and beloved, as one entitled to peculiar honours, because his energies had been worn out in a life of self-denial and toil for the Church of God. We are happy to say, however, that there was no ground LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 229 afforded for the exercise of jealousy or unkind feeling be- tween the two Bishops of Virginia. Bishop Moore was ever ready to acknowledge that his relations with his as- sistant were such as enabled hinn to say, as Paul did of Timothy, " like a son he hath served with me in the Gos- pel." Bishop Meade also declared, in his address to the Convention next succeeding the death of the Senior Bishop, that not the slightest difference had ever arisen between them ; but their joint official duties had been prosecuted with the utmost harmony, confidence, and affection. The feelings of Bishop Moore, in relation to his assistant, may be inferred from the following extract from one of his letters, in answer to a correspondent who had, probably, desired an expression of his opinion on the subject of the election which had then recently been made, and also sug- gested that he should publish a narrative of the success which had attended his labours in the Episcopate. TO REV. DR. , ON THE ELECTION OF BISHOP MEADE. July 6, 1829. " Rev. and dear Sir, — Your favour of the 24th ult. was duly received, but, in consequence of my absence from home, T have not had it in my power to reply to its con- tents at an earlier period. The election of Dr. Meade to the Episcopate produced in my mind all that satisfaction connected with so favourite a measure ; and I trust that his labours will be abundantly blessed to this diocese in par- ticular, and to the Church in general. Providence has, I conceive, marked him out for the office; and the unani- mous vote of the Convention must have been truly grate- t2 230 MEMOIE OF THE ful to his mind. I have no fears either in relation to his cou- secration,or his succession as diocesan Bishop. For me to pub- lish at this moment a view of the state of the Church, such as the circumstances of her prosperity would justify, would, in my opinion, savour too much of egotism, and subject me to unkind remarks. Such a work, if ever executed, should be drawn up by some other person ; it would obtain more credence, and save me from the charge of religious pride. I can truly say that it has been my wish to walk humbly with those connected with 7ne, and, if in any instance T have departed from that principle, aberration has arisen from a defect in judgment, and from no wish to be assuming. I have arrived, my dear Sir, at such an advanced time of life, that I have few worldly wishes to gratify, and it is my desire to fall into the grave with the love and benediction of the diocese I have served. The belief that one affec- tionate tear, from the eye of any of my clergy, would fall on my tomb, would be more grateful to my heart, tlian ten thousand constrained expressions of regard. * # # * " The consecration of Dr. Meade, which took place in August, 1829, was an event which relieved the Diocesan Bishop from the most painful and laborious part of his itinerating duties, and afforded him a degree of repose from the pressure of responsibility and toil, grateful and ne- cessary to one of his advanced years, and one so often afflicted with severe bodily sufferings. There was, how- ever, no desire on his part to relinquish the exercise of his Episcopal functions, or to shrink from the discharge of any duty which it was in his power to perform. From the period of his consecration, the chief burden of visitation fell upon the Assistant; but the Diocesan, with unabated LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 231 zeal and energy, continued to visit those parishes which were easy of access, and to perform many acts which con- tributed to the salvation of souls, and the welfare of the Church. During the vacancy in the Episcopate of Maryland, from the year 1827 to 1830, he kindly consented, in com- pliance with the request of the Standing Committee, to perform such Episcopal acts in that sister diocese, as the the clergy and vestries of the respective parishes might desire of him. The greater part of those acts desired by the parishes on the Western Shore, were performed by his Assistant Bishop ; as those desired in the parishes on the Eastern Shore of the Bishop of Pennsylvania, were by the Assistant Bishop of that diocese. The Diocesan of Vir- ginia, however, officiated personally on one occasion — the consecration of Trinity Church, Washington ; as did the Diocesan of Pennsylvania, in presiding at the trial of Dr. Clowes ; and both those venerable men favoured us with their presence on the joyful occasion of the termination of the protracted strife in the Church of Maryland, at the consecration of Dr. Stone, in Baltimore, October 21, 1830. Bishop White acted as chief consecrator, and Bishop Moore preached an appropriate sermon. It was an occasion of warm congratulation to the diocese and to the Church at large ; and never did the preacher appear more in his ele- ment, than in pouring forth the full feelings of his grateful heart for God's goodness, in inclining the two parties in the diocese, of nearly equal strength and numbers, to sacrifice their long cherished partialities on the altar of charity, and unite in selecting as their Bishop, one who, though unknown to fame, had, in his retired position, adorned the Gospel by a life of faith and holiness, and by the exemplary discharge of his duties as Rector of a country parish, proved himself 232 MEMOIR OF THE to be a simple-hearted, faithful minister of the cross. Those who were present at that joyful season, will not soon forget the sweet strains of melting tenderness — like those of the disciple whom Jesus loved — in which the aged preacher exhorted those who are members of the same household to maintain the faith in unity of spirit, in the bond of peace, and in righteousness of life. The perfect unanimity which characterized that Epis- copal election, after the peace of the diocese had been dis- turbed by a three years' contest, is one of the many instances recorded in our ecclesiastical annals, of the con- servative power of Church principles; and which afford ground for the belief that our communion can never be forced to present, for any great length of time, the aspect of "a house divided against itself." Any conflict arising out of difference of opinion, which may exist for a season, will be brought to an end, by a general disposition to rally around certain great fundamental principles which we hold in common, as of far more elevated importance than any matters of private opinion. And those differences which may arise out of partialities for particular men, will be reconciled by a willingness to sacrifice the regards of per- sonal friendship for the sake of promoting general harmony. There are men to be found, who, if they be destitute of those peculiar qualities which excite the enthusiastic sup- port of partizans, are possessed of those moral qualifications for office, which, in combination with sound sense, and ju- dicious moderation, command the respect and confidence of all. The increasing age and infirmities of the subject of this Memoir had no influence, apparently, in abating the ardour of his zeal, or in lessening his spiritual enjoyment in the service of God. At times, even after he had passed the LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 233 limit of three score years and ten, he preached with as much pathos and power, manifested the same deep interest and engagedness amidst the hallowed scenes connected with a revival of religion, and was as prompt in the sug- gestion and execution of measures for the advancement of truth and godliness, as ever. We had the pleasure of spending a few days of active public duty in his company and that of other beloved friends in the ministry, in the summer of 1831, at Alexandria, D. C, and we may safely say, that his services were, on that occasion, as interesting and effective as we had ever known them to be, even in the vigour of his health, and the meridian of his manhood. Of that delightful " season of refreshing from the presence of the Lord," he thus spoke in his address to the Virginia Convention in 1832. "I then embarked for Alexandria, at which place we held an association. On that occasion we were joined by a number of the clergy of this Diocese and of Maryland, and were assisted in our labours by the Rev. Dr. Henshaw, and the Rev. Mr. Johns, of Baltimore, and Rev. Dr. Bedell, of Philadelphia. To say that our meeting at that time was instructive and agreeable, would be expressing myself in language too faint for the occasion. A spirit of great zeal and fervour and devotion appeared to animate every bosom, the congregations were deeply solemn and attentive, and overflowing; many were awak- ened to the consideration of eternal things, and openly avowed their love and gratitude to the Almighty. It would rejoice my heart, brethren, to witness a similar evidence of divine influence in every parish in the Diocese. As a proof of the devotional feeling which prevailed, more especially among the young, I with pleasure announce to the Con- vention, that I confirmed, during my visit, upwards of ninety persons." 234 MSUUIS OF THE While the Bishop richly enjoyed such seasons hinnself, he was sincerely desirous that others might be sharers in the benefit. That the spiritual exercises connected with them, was what gave to the Virginia Conventions their chief attraction in his eyes, and that he desired the presence and assistance of his brethren on those occasions that (partly at least,) while ' watering others they might be watered also themselves,' is manifest from the following letter to Bishop Ravenscroft. March 19th, 1828. Rt. Rev. and Dear Sir, — The last meeting of our Con- vention in Fredericksburg was one of the most interesting that I have ever witnessed. It was thought that there were at least 1200 visiters in that place on that occasion, and those visiters, people of the first distinction in our country. [ look forward to our contemplated meeting in Petersburg with hope, and should it please God to bless us with such a sense of his presence as was enjoyed in Fred- ericksburg, it will meet the most sincere expression of grati- tude. It would afford me the greatest satisfaction, could you make it convenient to visit Petersburg at that time ; and I have no doubt all your old friends would be pleased to see you also. You once delighted to be with us, and it is my belief, you would be delighted again; for if I know you, and I think I do, you are not adverse to the most ar- dent expression of devotion. I am now an old man, and cannot be far distant from that country to which we are all hastening, and as I believe we shall experience no cold- ness in heaven, I do not see why the Church below should not taste a little of that joy of which we hope to partake in another, and a better world. You must perceive that 1 am now addressing you as I formerly did, when you resided LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 235 in Virginia ; and, should the friendly expression 1 use touch that chord of affection which used to beat in perfect uni- son with my own feelings, you will not be offended with me. I love order, I love the Liturgy of the Church with all the powers of my heart, but am of opinion that our services, instead of producing formality, are calculated to make us feel, and rejoice, and give thanks. Your affectionate Friend and brother, Richard Channing Moore. Bishop Ravesscroft. At every succeeding Convention he had the pleasure of learning, from the parochial reports, that the progress of the Church was still onward, and that, by God's blessing upon the Seminary, the number of faithful and devoted ministers was constantly increasing. Of the fifty-six cler- gymen belonging to the diocese in 1833, no less than forty- four had received the sacred commission through the im- position of his hands ; and, it is probable, that of nearly double the number, who were subject to his Episcopal juris- diction at the time of his death, an equally large propor- tion had been ordained by him. In his stated addresses to the Convention, from year to year, we find him generally employing the language of con- gratulation and encouragement. With a united clergy and a prosperous diocese, he seldom had occasion to speak in terms of censure or reproof; but he sometimes found it necessary to " stir up the pure minds" of his brethren by way of remembrance — to invite them to greater zeal in the service of the Lord — to higher liberality in sustaining the institutions of the Gospel, and to greater energy in all the departments of well-doing. For example, in his Con- 236 MEMOIR OF THE ventional address of 1830, he distinctly recognized the im- portant ; but much neglected duty of systematic charity, places it upon the ground of apostolic precept and example, and earnestly exhorts every Churchman in Virginia to lay aside, on the first day of the week, a portion of his earn- ings or receipts, " as the Lord hath prospered him," to be sacredly devoted to the great cause of Christian benevo- lence. We rejoice that several of our younger Bishops have taken the same ground, and boldly advocate the " weekly offerings unto the Lord," as a substitute for the irregular and spasmodic contributions made under the excitement of particular occasions heretofore relied on for sustaining the benevolent operations]of the Church. We are satisfied that in this, as well as every other matter of Christian obliga- tion, the apostolic model is the only one worthy of imita- tion. The plan of regular, systematic, weekly contribu- tions in the Church, where our prayers and our alms may go up together as a memorial before God, contains in itself the proper exhibition of the true principle of Christian charity. If this plan should be universally adopted, as we trust in God it may be, the sacred gifts of faith and love would be abundantly compensated in the increased bestow- ment of spiritual blessings from on high. God, in confor- mity to his sure promise, would open the windows of hea- ven, and pour out upon us a blessing till there should not be room enough to contain it : Christians would realize, in their increase of religious joy, that " it is more blessed to give than to receive ;" the Church would cease to be pre- sented in the degrading attitude of a beggar ; and her trea- sury, steadily replenished by the beneficent gifts of her chil- dren, would overflow, and pour a constant stream of bless- ings upon the world. With the revival of primitive charity, LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. " 237 we should behold a revival of primitive godliness, and of primitive expansion. In connexion with the above topic, and as affording a powerful argument for the enforcement of the duty, the Bishop referred in strong terms to the inadequate provi- sion made for the support of the clergy. If Virginia has ever been, in reference to this matter, sarcastically spoken of as " the land of promise," it is to be hoped that whatever is reproachful in the epithet her sons will endea- vour to wipe off, by making it also the land of performance. Well would it be if the parishes and vestries of other dio- ceses would give heed to those wise and timely counsels of the departed father which were the result of long expe- rience and wide extended observation. " The Convention must be sensible that in the plea which I now offer in behalf of the clergy, I am not pleading for a support unreasonable and extravagant. I ask only for a sufficiency to enable them to live in comfort. I ask not for any of the luxuries of life. lam only soliciting for a provision which will enable their children to appear in the society in which they move, decently habited, and properly in- structed. Should the minds of any of the people of our charge be impressed with the idea that this is already the situation of the clergy embraced in the proposal, a journey through some of our parishes would convince them of their mistake. On a late tour through an extensive district of this diocese, I met with an instance of extreme penury in the case of a truly pious, well educated, and excellent clergyman belonging to our communion. Patient under his sufferings, humble as a little child, he poured no com- plaint whatever in my ears: but, being told by a wealthy and humane neighbour of his wants, I was surprised at the fortitude he manifested, and the silence he had observed, u 238 MEMOIR OF THE and when, returning to my home, I mentioned his situation to some ladies of my congregation, they, moved by those feelings of compassion peculiar to their sex, promptly sent him some temporary assistance. " As a proof of the benefits which may be reasonably ex- pected from the adoption and prosecution of the measure submitted to your consideration, I think it my duty to pre- sent to your view the former low condition and the present prosperous state of the Church in my native diocese. " At my admission to deacons' orders, forty-eight years ago, I constituted the sixth or seventh clergyman in that diocese — a diocese which now numbers two hundred la- bourers in the vineyard of the Lord. The means to which that astonishing increase may be chiefly attributed, is that unremitting attention they have paid to the sustenance of the clergy in their new parishes, hy relief from their mis- sionary fund. " By pursuing, my bretiiren, the same course, we may expect similar results ; and, should my valued Assistant in the Episcopate live to my present age, he may look for a similar increase in the clergy of this diocese, and behold, in congregations now in a state of infancy, assemblies both strong and numerous ; and in others, which I trust will be planted by his hand, he will, with joy of heart, behold them growing into manhood, worshipping the God of their Fa- thers with the same form of sound words with which they worshipped him, and training up their children in the use of that Liturgy which distinguishes our Zion — a Liturgy which will defend her from heresy and schism, and secure obedience to the faith once delivered to the saints." Among the means which may be most successfully em- ployed in the extension of the Church, that which holds a rank next in importance to the services of living missiona- ries, is the circulation of her forms of worship and stand- is LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 239 ards of doctrine, and of such publications as are explana- tory and vindicative of botii. Accordingly the Bishop renevvedly called the attention of the diocese to the im- portant claims of the Prayer Book and Tract Society, recommended the formation of auxiliaries to it in all the parishes, and earnestly exhorted the members of the Church to greater zeal and energy in the support of that interest- ing institution. Another important topic, referred to by him at the same Convention, was the conduct of the Southern Churchman, a Hebdomadal paper, edited by one of the clergy, and in- tended to sustain the interests of religion in the Church. The charitable tone of the paper is spoken of in terms of warm commendation, and the advice is strenuously given that there may be no change in this respect; but, that it may continue to speak the truth in love : and that, while its editor would '• feel himself bound to inculcate and faith- fully to guard the distinctive principles of the Protestant Episcopal Church," he should do so without wantonly assail- ing the principles or the prejudices of other Christian com- munities, and "avoid controversy when controversy can possibly be avoided." If this " godly counsel" were followed by the editors of all similar publications, it would no longer be a question whether the religious periodical press be a blessing or a curse. Then, instead of being the arena where ecclesias- tical gladiators display their skill and their malice, in fierce attempts to hack each other in pieces, for the amusement of a wicked world — it might prove, what it ought to be, a valuable auxiliary to the Gospel : not only a radiating point of light, but an instrument of extending the dominion of holiness and peace among all Christian people. But though Bishop Moore's tender and loving heart 240 MEMOIR OF THE shrunk back, with instinctive dread, fronti the asperities of controversy and " the strife of tongues" or pens — and he was deter nnined to conaply with the Apostolic precept, " if it be possible, as much as Heth in you, Hve peaceably with all men," — still he would not tamely look on, and see the cause of truth suffer for want of vindication, nor allow the Church of his affections to be rudely assailed and misre- presented, without offering to speak a word in her defence. A pleasing proof of this was afforded, when a proposal was made, in " the Family Visiter," a Richmond paper, to pub- lish a series of articles, which would be likely to contiict with some cherished principles of Episcopalians. The pro- posal drew forth the following communication to the editor of that paper, and had the effect of frustrating the design. Letter written upon seeing a paragraph in the Family Visiter, signed "Historicus," proposing to give a history of the Christian Church, from its commencement to the present century : To call in question the intention of " Historicus" is not my wish, as I believe himperfectly sincere in the views he entertains of the integrity of his own Church: but as indi- viduals of other denominations may be equally sincere with himself, and as firmly established in the truth of their prin- ciples, he cannot for a moment suppose that they will be satisfied should you permit him to occupy exclusively the pages of your paper. If I am not mistaken, it was the opinion of a person, a few years since, with whom " Histori- cus" is perhaps acquainted, that it is best for Christians, on points not involving their salvation, to agree to disagree: and I am also mistaken if the same person did not pro- nounce, " Wo to the man who should commence the work of discord." If the respectable individual alluded to was LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 241 correct in his disapprobation of controversy at the time in which he wrote, I do not see the necessity of departing from the principle he laid down at the present moment. If *' Historicus," however, is determined to engage in the work, I hope it will be remembered that it was commenced by himself; and should the controversy, instead of producing beneficial effects, prove prejudicial to the peace of society, that he will acknowledge himself the author of all the confusion which may ensue, and not charge the consequences to those who act upon the defensive. As " Historicus" pro- mises to fill two columns in your paper every week for twelve months, it follows of course that he is a man of un- common leisure ; but is it not possible todevote his time to some more useful and benevolent purpose ? Will not the subject in question call up the angry passions of our nature, and will it not separate those who are now living in har- mony 1 Will it not create divisions among Christians who are walking in fellowship and love ? As it respects myself, Messrs. Editors, 1 am no contro- versialist. I have avoided it on many occasions, in which others might, perhaps, have thought it their duty to have insisted upon their peculiar views; but, sensible of those differences of opinion which exist, my religious feelings have enjoined silence upon me, and influenced me to pur- sue that course which makes for peace. Senex. Editors of the Family Visiter. Happy would it be for the Christian world if those whose opinions are entitled to weight from their station and years, were always thus ready to interpose, and exert their influ- ence to prevent the beginning of strife. The good Bishop was eminently qualified, by his affec- tionate and sympathizing heart, by his deep Christian ex- v2 242 MEMOIR OF THE perience, and by his intimate acquaintance with human nature, under all the vicissitudes to which it is liable in this state of earthly being, to speak a word of encouragement to the weary, of direction to the inquirer, and of consola- tion to the afflicted. The following letters of advice and condolence are spread upon these pages, in the belief, that such effusions of wisdom and piety cannot fail to afford pleasure and edification to the reader. HIS ZEAL FOR THE CHURCH A LETTER TO MISS April 22, 1824. Dear Miss, — The situation of the Church in H — County has very much engaged my attention ; and when the ability of the people to support a minister of our deno- mination has presented itself to my mind, I have been obliged to consider their destitute state their fault, rather than their misfortune. We are sometimes induced to sup- pose that money contributed to the support of the gospel, as it produces no pecuniary returns, is money thrown away; whereas, could the subject be viewed through a proper medium, it would appear evident that property thus be- stowed, is property laid out to the greatest possible advan- tage. Were we to inquire from what source have we derived our wealth, and who it is that blesses us with health, and capacity to enjoy it ? Our hearts would reply — we derive our blessings from God ; and it is to him that we are indebted for all the comfort with which we are sur- rounded. This being the case, should we not consider it a privilege to make some little return to that kind benefactor who crowns us with so many blessings ? The consideration however, deserving our attention, is the concern of eternity LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 243 We are stewards, and must give an account of that stewardship. We and our children possess immortal spirits; and as those spirits are to be trained up for eternal joys, it is our duty to provide ourselves, and them, with such instructions as will qualify them for the enjoyment of the God of our salvation. Few things have so beneficia an effect upon society, as the regular observance of the Lord's day. The duties peculiar to the Sabbath are cal- culated to call home our wandering thoughts, and to lead the mind to reflect upon death — the grave — eternity. However lightly we may think of religion, still there is no parent whose bosom would not beat with joy at the tri- umphant departure of a child; and no child of reflection whose bosom would not glow with rapture at discovering a beloved parent dying in the sure expectation of eternal felicity. To experience such happiness, we must enlist under the banner of Christ Jesus, and practise the duties he has prescribed for our observance : " not every one that saith Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven, but he that doeth the ivilloi my father which is in heaven." A vain faith in the Lord Jesus will profit us nothing; we must be actively engaged in duty ; for faith, without works, is dead, being alone. It is impossible that a parent can devote a portion of his income to better purpose than in advancing the cause of the Gospel. The morals of his children will receive a favourable bias from the wholesome instructions of the sanctuary. The remembrance of God v^'ill be kept alive by the service of the Church, and so- ciety will feel and bend to its effects. Your communica- tion, so far from being considered obtrusive, has produced in my mind the greatest satisfaction. I am rejoiced to perceive that God has not left himself without a witness in H , and that the cause of our merciful Redeemer pos- 244 MEMOIR OF THE sesses so warm, so able, and so faithful an advocate. Go on, Miss C , go on ! and may the Lord Jesus Christ bless your endeavours, and render you an instrument of advancing the cause of his Church. You will find, I have no doubt, willing coadjutors in some of your companions. Unite your efforts; put forth all your strength; infuse into the minds of your young acquaintances the same desires which warm your heart. Pray earnestly — pray for divine assistance; and rely upon it, God will sanctify your exer- tions ; and of this grain of mustard-seed, form a tree, under the umbrage of which your friends may sit with delight, and find the fruit sweet to their taste." OF CONDOLENCE. Richmond, July 25th, 1832. Very Dear Sir, — I was informed yesterday of the sud- den and unexpected death of your late amiable and ex- cellent wife; and most sincerely do I sympathize with you' and your children on the melancholy occasion. When in N , during the night of the 16th inst., upon my inquir- ing in relation to the health of yourself and household, I was assured that you were all well ; and. left under the im- pression, that upon the next visit I should meet you all in health, and again form one of your happy family circle. But events have given us another evidence that man in- deed " Cometh up, and is cut down like a flower ; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay." In that bitter cup of adversity with which it has pleased the Almighty to visit you, there is a mixture of consolation; and though you cannot but grieve, still you sorrow not as those without hope. The mind of your departed friend LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 245 was deeply impressed with gratitude to God for his mercies both temporal and spiritual. The Saviour formed the rock of her dependence ; and to do good, and to distribute to her fellow-mortals, out of the abundance she possessed, consti- tuted one of her chief enjoyments. The sincerity of her religious professions, no one who knew her could for a mo- ment doubt; her unusual frankness of disposition; the urba- nity of her manners ; her hospitality ; and the affection which f always received at her hands, had given her a place in my bosom, which T cannot find language to ex- press; and should I be permitted to visit N , I shall find a chasm in the circle of my friends, which very few, if any, can perfectly fill. Her house was my home; and the pillow on which I rested my head was always softened by her tenderness and filial regard. Tell your dear children that I deeply feel their bereavement, and sincerely pray that their affliction, under which they mourn, may be so sanctified by God's grace, that it may wean them from an undue attachment to the world, and may work for them a far more exceeding and eternal w^eight of glory. Tell them that their mother's happy spirit bids them to look up- ward, and calls them to set their affections on things above. That the Almighty may take you, my beloved, and your children, in his holy keeping, is the devout supplication of Your sincere friend and Pastor, R. C. MoORE. TO WILLIAM M- Oct. 29th, 1823. My Dear Sir, — It was during the alarming illness of my beloved F , that I heard of the death of your dear 246 MEMOIR OF THE daughter, or you would have immediately received the assurance of my sympathy and condolence. Adversity is the lot of human nature, and had it pleased the Almighty to spare your child, she must have inherited, in common with us all, a share in the distresses incident to our state. Is it not, therefore, a happiness to know that she is placed beyond the reach of trouble ; and that sorrow and she have shaken hands for ever? Could we draw aside the curtain, and witness the felicity of those who have entered into bliss ; instead of giving place to grief, our bosoms would be dilated with joy ; and upon the knee of gratitude, we should thank the Almighty for releasing our children from distress, and giving them a seat at his right hand. The Lord Jesus, when speaking of children, has said, " Of such is the king- dom of heaven. " Oh ! be satisfied, my dear M , with the dealings of your heavenly Father, and let the assu- rance of your child's happiness dry up your tears, and heal your broken heart. Her spirit will be among the first to meet you on the shores of Zion ; and when she sees her parents ascending in the chariot of immortality, her heart will vibrate with pleasure ; she will bid you welcome to the realms of bliss. Her departure contains a call, to all her friends, from their God and Saviour : " Be ye also ready," is the admonition it conveys. Give my love to Mrs. M , and believe me, what I have ever been since I first knew you, Your sincere friend and grateful Pastor, R. C. Moore. P. S. Your son intimated to me it was your w^ish I should perform the last solemnities for your child. Should such be the case, you have only to express it, and J will hasten to discharge the duty, and to visit your parish. R. C. Moore. LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 247 TO THE SAME. January 31st, 1824. My Dear Sir, — Your communication by your son came duly to hand ; for which, as well as for the present he con- veyed to me, I must entreat you to accept my most s'l^ftve thanks. Your former liberality was considered by me as an ample remuneration for my services ; so that the last dona- tion was entirely unexpected and unlooked for. I am fully of opinion, my beloved Mr. M , that a regard for your health, and the preservation of your life for the benefit of your family, renders it necessary that you should leave your retirement, and make a visit to your friends in Rich- mond. The mind is as liable to indisposition as the body ; and as you would conceive it your duty to apply remedies for the removal of bodily disease, so you must acknowledge it equally a duty to succour and relieve the mind, by the adoption of such remedies as are applicable to its condition. I know what mental suffering is, and I can assure you from experience, that there is nothing so well calculated to abate the pangs of distress as the conversation of those who can both feel and sympathize with us. The mind sometimes becomes so oppressed that it loses its elasticity, and repre- sents objects to our view through a jaundiced medium ; under such a state of things we are apt to consider our- selves the subject of sorrows so peculiar as to shut out from our view every thing like hope ; when in fact no distress hath assailed us, but such as is common to man. We live to make our children happy, and when we think their hap- piness is secured, we feel contented. Now, my friend, however pleasing the prospects of your surviving children may be, and however great the happiness is which they 248 MEMOIR OF THE enjoy, yet you must acknowledge that their felicity bears no comparison whatever with the happiness of your de- parted daughter. The enjoyments of which they partake are subject to diminution and change; whereas the enjoy- ment of your angel child is as firmly fixed as the everlast- ing hills. She rests from all the labours of life on the bosom of the Saviour, and enjoys the light of his reconciled coun- tenance. If turning a straw would bring my children from above, that straw never should be turned by me, and whatever may be your reflections now, I am sensible that, in a little time, you will think so too. They have gone be- fore us and anxiously await our entrance into bliss. Let us, my beloved M , trim our lamps. The moment is necessarily drawing near which will separate us, I trust, from sorrow, and introduce us into bliss. God grant that we and our dear wives and children may be prepared for the event, and at last received into heaven, with the wel- come salutation of "come ye blessed of my father." Give our love to Mrs. M., and to all who think of me, and Believe me in great truth. Your sincere friend and Pastor, R. C. Moore. TO MRS. DR. WILMER. September 5th, 1827. My Dear Madam, — The bereavement you have sustain- ed constitutes a distress in which 1 sensibly participate: and by which the Church, of which your dear husband was so conspicuous a member, has been most severely afilicted. Being absent from home during the time of his illness, I was unconscious of his situation. I had heard, it is true, that he LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 249 had been seized with a chill three or four days after I left him ; but supposing that it was an attack of simple ague and (ever, I pleased myself with the idea that he had re- tired from Williamsburg, and had taken passage with his family to Alexandria. Under this impression I rested satisfied, and knew nothing to the contrary until I was aroused from my security by an obituary notice of his death. Affliction, my dear friend, is the lot of mortals, and as the departure of our connexions forms an event una- voidable in its nature, it is our duty to submit with resigna- tion, and to say with Eli, " It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good." In the cup which the Almighty hath given you to drink there is much consolation, and the more highly you esteemed your departed companion for his virtues, you must remember that those virtues rendered him better prepared for the change through which he has passed, and fitted him for the enjoyment of eterral felicity. Could you witness the happiness to which he is now exalted, much as you loved him, you would not wish him back ; but on the contrary, would rejoice at his escape from all trouble, and strive with renewed efforts to prepare to meet him in a better world. These sentiments flow from a heart alive to his value; you know the place he occupied in my affections; the confidence I reposed in his integrity. He was truly the man of my counsel; not a step did I take in the concerns of the Church without asking the benefit of his advice. We walked together as friends, and from my knowledge of his virtues, it was my wish to have had him connected with me in my parochial charge and to have laboured with me in the same pulpit. His labours are now concluded, and he is reaping a full harvest of happiness, in the Church triumphant in heaven. It is God, who has promised to be the husband of the widow, and the fathe w 250 ME3I0IR OF THE of the fatherless : and as he possesses the ability as well as the inclination to fulfil his word, to him I commend you and your infant charge. Take your children in the arms of prayer, and carry them to your Saviour : a mother's petition he will hear and render your little family a blessing to you and to those connected with them. That the Almighty may place beneath you the everlasting arms of his love, and carry your lambs in his bosom, Is the sincere prayer of Your affectionate friend, R. C. MooRE. TO A rOUNG LADY. March 5th, 1834. My dear Child, — Your affectionate mother has received your last communication containing a representation of the state of your mind, flowing, as you observe, from a conscious- ness of your ingratitude to God, and that want of conformi- ty to his precepts, which the Almighty has a right to re- quire of all his intelligent creatures. The state of convic- tion, as you term it, constitutes a truth with which we must be acquainted, before we can be disposed to correct our errors, or change our habits. While in the enjoyment of health, we are insensible to the true value and importance of medical assistance ; and it is a bed of sickness alone which renders us alive to the value of a good Physician ; such is precisely the case in spiritual matters; for until the Almighty, through the in- fluence of his Holy Spirit, convinces us of our sins, and opens to our view our departure from his commands, we feel no disposition to ask his forgiveness; considering ourselves LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 251 whole, we require no aid superior to the powers of our own understanding, to enable us to regulate our lives. But when the holy law of God is presented to our view by the light of divine grace, and we compare our past conduct with the requisitions of that law, we become sensible that instead of having loved him with all our heart, we have neglected and forgotten him ; that instead of keeping his Sabbath holy, we have devoted it to worldly purposes: that so far from having honoured our parents, we have rebelled against their authority: that although we have not openly violated the other precepts, still we have not complied with their spiritual import. When God by his Holy Spirit thus shows us that we are sinners, our hearts become so much alive to the danger of our condition, that we are induced to fly to the Saviour, as our refuge from the storm of God's displeasure, and by sincere and ardent prayer to entreat his forgiveness, and to solicit his grace that we may love him more and serve him more faithfully in future. It is under such circumstances that we understand the meaning of St. Peter who has said, " Unto you which believe he is precious." It is then we comprehend the declaration of the Saviour, when he said, " The whole need not a Physician, but they who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance : The Son of Man came to seek and to save that which was lost." There is no greater evi- dence, my child, of the love of God, than to be convinced of sin in general, and of our own sin in particular: and the disposition you now evince of loving and serving your God and Saviour, is a greater gift, than if the Almighty had left you in a thoughtless state of mind, though he had made you the possessor of the whole world. Look up then, I beseech you, with perfect confidence in his mercy ; you are already a possessor of the surest token of his favour that you could 252 MEMOIR OF THE desire. You feel spiritually sick : and you have a Physician both able and willing to cure your disease. He is always at hand, never absent, and more ready to hear than you are to pray, and at this moment extends to you the positive assurance, and certain promise, " Him that cometh unto me, 1 will in no wise cast out." Yes, my child, I repeat it, look up to that Saviour, with perfect confidence, who shed his blood for your salvation, " who tasted death for every man," whose blood cleanseth from all sin, and you will soon find that " they who sow in tears, shall reap in joy." Let me hear from you again. Lay open to my view all your feelings, and desires, and it shall be my delight to commu- nicate comfort to your mind ; and remember that much as your parents love you, the Lord Jesus Christ loves you still more, aud has proved the boundless nature of his affec- tion by shedding his blood for your salvation. TO A YOUNG MAN. February 16 th, 1835. My young Friend, — I have received a letter from your venerable father dated the 10th inst. in which he in- formed me of those serious impressions which have lately been made on your mind, and has requested me to address you on the occasion. Could I have conversed with you upon the subject, and been better acquainted with the ex- ercises of mind through which you have passed, I, of course? would have it more in my power to judge of your religious change. The unity however which I have ever found in the experience of all Christians will enable me to drop you a few hints by which you will be enabled to draw some reasonable conclusions, in relation to the variety of your own exercises. As all men are sinners, and of course obnoxious in their natural state to the divine displeasure, the LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 253 first effect produced by divine grace on the mind is a con- viction of sin. — This conviction of sin leads us to the Almighty for forgiveness, from whom only it can beobtained. The awakened sinner pleads for mercy through the merits of the Saviour : the language of his heart is that of the publican, " God be merciful to me a sinner" — and, in deep penitence and sorrow of mind for his past offences, he flies to the bosom of his heavenly father, and in the penetrating accents of the Prodigal, confesses his transgressions, and entreats for a restoration to the divine favour. Prayer, which was once a burden, now constitutes his enjoyment ; he turns with abhorrence from all sinful practices, and his inquiry is, " teach me to do thy will, for thou art my God," or with St. Paul, " Lord what wilt thou have me to do ?" His mind being thus changed, he looks for new companions, and instead of associating with the thoughtless, as he once did, " he makes much of those who love the Lord." The Bible, which contains the promises of mercy to poor offen- ders, constitutes in his view a book preferable to all others : " his delight is in the law of the Lord, and therein he medi- tates day and night." He loves the house of God, and es- teems the Sabbath his delight, and keeps it holy. A person whose experience comprehends the above features of character is, literally speaking, anew creature, "old things are done away, and all things are become new." Or in other words, he now abhors what he once loved, and now loves what he once disliked: such as prayer, the holy Sabbath, the sacred Scriptures, religious friends. You must permit me to express the hope that you will not suffer your affec- tions to be weaned from the Church of your fathers, but that you will recollect the attachment of your ancestors, and your parents, and numerous family, to the Episcopal Church, and that you will throw the weight of your influence w 2 254 MEMOIR OF THE in her scale. 1 remember when administering the Lord's Supper to your grandmother a few years since there were kneeling around her in her sick room upwards of thirty of her children, and grandchildren ; and as they all belonged to the same communion, I trust that you will find it your duty and pleasure, at a proper time, to follow their ex- ample, and to tread in their steps. I hope to hear from you soon, and promise to attend with promptitude to your letters. Believe me, my young friend. Yours very aflfectionately, R. C. MoORE. To these letters the following prayer is a suitable accom- paniment. Prayer for an inquirer after truth ; composed for the use of the afflicted husband of my late beloved parishioner M. T. L. "Almighty God, whose ways are in the deep, whose paths are in the great waters, and whose footsteps are not known, look down, I beseech thee, in parental tenderness, upon thy afflicted servant ; and hasten to my relief. Hum- bled in the dust, I lift my eyes to thee, my great Creator, and solicit an interest in thy favour, and loving kindness. I confess, most gracious God, that I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight, I presume not to plead guiltless before thee ; but acknowledge that I have done things I ought not to have done, and that I have left undone things I ought to have done. As my maker, protector, and provider, thou art entitled to my respect and gratitude — still, notwithstanding the unbounded mercies I have expe- LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 255 rienced, I have neglected my duty to thee; and have been unthankful for thy favours. Forgive me, oh, my God, all that is past, and enable me to love thee with all my heart, and to serve thee faithfully, in future. Oh, my God, the heavy hand of affliction is upon me ; and my heart, and my flesh fail me for very trouble. In thy holy word it is writ- ten, that thou wilt make the affliction of those who love thee work for them an exceeding great and eternal weight of glory. Oh, fulfil thy divine promise; and sanctify the distress under which I labour, to my present and future comfort. Thou hast taken from me, blessed God ! the wife of my bosom ; oh lead me by the influences of thy Spirit to that Saviour, in whom she trusted and believed ; that I may find rest for my pgor soul. It was in the Lord Jesus that she placed her dependence for all things necessary, both in time and eternity : and I am a witness, heavenly Father, that the Saviour, in whom she believed, did never leave nor forsake her. He was her protector and her guide in sickness and in death : Oh ! that the God and Saviour of her for whom I mourn, may be my God and Saviour. Oh ! that the Redeemer, in whose blood she trusted for salvation, may be my Redeemer, Come, Lord Jesus, and make me sensible of the divinity of thy character. May the holy precepts which thou didst teach convince me that thou art the Son of God. May the life of sorrow thou didst lead on earth convince me of thy sincerity. May the afiection thou didst manifest to man attach me to thy cross, and may the blood thou didst shed on Calvary wash me from all my sins. " Lord I believe, help thou my unbelief" Come, Lord Jesus : oh, come quickly, and bring life and im- mortality to light in my heart. I ask these mercies, oh, God ! for Jesus Christ's sake. — Amen. 256 MEMOIR OF THE The increasing age and infirmities of the Bishop, while they imposed upon him the necessity of gradually relin- quishing the oversight of distant portions of his diocese, to which no access could be had except by the ordinary modes of travelling in Virginia — in carriages or on horse- back— the fatigues of which he could not endure ; and while they consequently restricted his ability to engage exten- sively in public duties, were, nevertheless, attended with a solace which was peculiarly grateful to his mind. His was a nature thoroughly adapted to the enjoyment of domestic happiness; and the infirmities which cut him off from his accustomed intercourse with the scattered members of his ecclesiastical household secured to him the loved privilege of more prolonged and endeared intercourse with the mem- bers of the family circle which gathered around his fire- side at home. We have before noticed the strength and tenderness of his affection for his children — an afiection which began at their birth, increased with their growth through the periods of infancy and childhood, and not only prompted to the most diligent efforts for the advancement of their temporal wel- fare and spiritual improvement in the days of their youth, but followed them, with all the yearnings of parental solici- tude, through all the future stages of their being. Never was there a brighter example of a father's watchful care and persevering endeavours for the temporal and spiri- tual good of his children. Never, perhaps, was there an instance in which such care and endeavours were followed with greater success. Of the children who sur- vive him, two are faithful and acceptable ministers of the Gospel in the Church; and all the rest, it is believed, are communicants at her altars. It would be gratifying to know precisely the course of advice, instruction, and dis- LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 257 cipline, by which, through God's blessing, such a happy result had been secured. And although there is much in the freedom and familiarity of domestic correspondence which should not needlessly be exposed to the public gaze, yet we hope that good may be done to Christian families by the publication of the following letters, addressed to his children at different times, and on various occasions. There may be found in them some development of those plans and principles of parental guidance which led a numerous family to choose the paths of wisdom and piety. TO HIS ELDEST SON, SOON AFTER LEAVING HOME TO ENGAGE IN MERCANTILE PURSUITS, IN NEW YORK, THEN IN HIS THIR- TEENTH YEAR. Staten Island, January 12th, 1801. My Dear Son, — I duly received your favour of the 8th, and was pleased with the connexion of your statements, and the neatness of your letter ; it convinced me that you had been attentive to the composition, and were desirous to gratify the wishes of a father who sincerely loves you. Go on, my child, in the diligent pursuit of your duties; be faithful to the interests of Mr. B , and endeavour to fit yourself for the discharge of all your engagements. It is impossible for me to express to you how much you have it in your power to contribute to my happiness. Remember the affectionate care with which I have always watched over you. You must therefore be sensible that you share largely in my regard ; and could you read my heart, you would see your name in characters which can never be effaced. You must be convinced that my happiness depends very much upon your conduct; all, then, that I desire of you in return for my tenderness, is this: 258 MEMOIR OF THE Fear God; be grateful to your Redeemer; and let your walk through life be marked with the most invincible in- tegrity. Shun sin as you would pestilence ; and let nothing escape your lips that, upon reflection, can give you pain. Such behaviour will render you respected by all who know you. Your conscience will always speak the language of approbation. God will love you; and your father will be blessed ! If you have not a Bible at command, request Mr. B— — to procure a decent one for you. Read every day a portion in the Old and New Testament, and endea- vour to imprint its contents and precepts upon your mind. Look up to God, my beloved child ; his ears are open to all ; and the offering of a youthful heart is peculiarly agreeable and acceptable in his sight. I send you — — , of which I beg your acceptance. Let me know your wants, and believe me Your affectionate father, R. C. Moore. LETTER TO A GRANDDAUGHTER. October 13th, 1837. My dear H — , In reflecting on the occurrences which took place during my late visit at the north, few, if any, have given me more solid satisfaction than the change which I confidently hope has been produced in your mind on the subject of the great concern of your precious and immortal soul. As it is from the Father of Lights that every good and perfect gift proceedeth; and hearing, as I have heard and listened to, the sincere and ardent supplications of your dear father, in behalf of his beloved children ; and con- scious, also, of the assurance which Heaven has given, of LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 259 an answer to sincere supplication, I take it for granted that the change you have experienced in your views, has arisen from the influences of that Holy Spirit which has heen so long and so fervently supplicated for his blessing on your head. Let, then, your grandfather cherish the hope that you will carry into effect the good resolutions into which you have entered, and make full proof of the sincerity of your religious profession. Reflect, my dear child, how influen- tial will be the example you may present to the view of the numerous family with which you are daily surrounded ; what infinite advantage you, and my dear C , may prove to the little unfledged flock, in the midst of which you are placed, and the incalculable comfort you will produce in the bosom of your parents. Heaven, my child, has blessed you with a mind capable of great results. Oh ! let me entreat you to bring that mind to bear on the views and habits of your brothers and sisters, friends and acquaint- ances ; and may that Being who has loved you, and given himself for you, continue to shower on you the richest blessings of his grace, and render you an ornament to the Church, and a source of comfort to all your connexions. Christianity does not forbid you to combine, with the dis- charge of your duty to God, a cheerfulness of disposition ; indeed, in my opinion, our gratitude to the Almighty is better evinced by a cheerful, than a gloomy habit ; and I am sure, possesses attractions better calculated to convince the thoughtless, that " the ways of religion are pleasantness, and her paths are paths of peace," than a course of conduct enveloped in gloom, and expressive of continual mortification. Improper levity, you will remember, my dear H , "is different from that cheerfulness of which I speak ; but 260 MEMOIR OF THE as you possess a discriminating nnind, it would be needless in me to dwell upon the subject, especially as it would ap- pear to betray a suspicion of your consistency of conduct. With so good a teacher at your side as your beloved father, it cannot be necessary for me to point out those duties need- ful for your daily observance ; but loving you as I do, and anxious as I am for your present and future happiness, I could not permit the event which has drawn from me this letter, to pass without assuring you of the happiness it has afforded me. Give my love to your parents, and all the family ; and believe me, my dear child. Your affectionate friend and grandfather, Richard Channing Moore. EXTRACT from A LETTER WRITTEN TO HIS ELDEST SON". February 9th, 1820. " I am rejoiced to discover, from your late communica- tion, that your flock are so attentive to eternal conside- rations. I shall never forget the joyful seasons I have experienced with the people of your charge; when from one extreme of the parish to another, the universal cry could be heard, " Lord, what wilt thou have us to do ?" May the flame which has arisen continue to extend its sacred influences, until every heart shall feel its animating effects. As far as the prayers of a fond father, for a be- loved son, can prove availing, those prayers are offered up in your behalf. I frequently have you in my mind's eye, and am fervently engaged in supplication to God in your favour, entreating him to strengthen you in the discharge LIFK OP BISHOP MOORE. 261 of your duty, and to render your ardent efforts beneficial to your hearers, I shall never forget the time in which religious excite- ment so much prevailed on the Island, that I was called upon to preach three times the same evening, to the same congregation. I think you were with me, and take it for granted that you have not forgotten the circumstance. Go on, my beloved Son, and be not weary in well-doing. A clergyman will never lament, in a dying hour, that he has been faithful, or that his duties have been laborious ; but on the contrary, after he has done all that he possibly could have done, he will feel himself to have been an un- profitable servant. If such will be the experience of the most faithful minister, what will be the sensations of a sloth- ful and negligent Shepherd ? Your affectionate father, Richard Channing Moore. LETTER TO A MEMBER OF HIS FAMILY. Norfolk, June 19th, 1836. My dear S., — I received your affectionate favour this morning, and hasten to reply to its contents. I perceived, of course, when I left home, that my children were not all up to receive my parting benediction ; but being unwilling to draw any conclusion of an unkind description, I at- tributed it to its proper cause, the early hour at which f entered on my journey. It is in the bosom of my family that I reap the most solid comfort; and it is delightful to my heart to be enabled to say that my children seem disposed to contribute to my comfort by their filial attentions; and to divest my solitude X 262 MEMOIR OF THE of that gloom which otherwise would oppress and bear me to the earth. Were I to complain of their inattention, I should do them injustice : they are dutiful and affectionate, and, when I shall be taken from them, they will reap comfort, flowing from a conscious knowledge of the filial kindness which distinguishes their conduct towards me. Few families have reason to be more thankful to God for the harmony which marks their domestic circle. I have always loved my children with an affection of no common order ; and it has been my study to render them happy by gratifying all their reasonable requests ; and also by making such provision for them, as will, with prudence, render them comfortable after my death. This letter my children will consider as addressed to them all ; and, if the declaration of my love will afford them that pleasure which I derive from the assurance of their regard for me, they may rest satisfied that they pos- sess a place in my affection which nothing but death can ever efface. When I return from the Eastern Shore, I shall expect another letter from some of you; direct to J. S., Esq., Nor- folk, and send it by the steamboat which leaves Richmond every Wednesday and Sunday morning. Give my sincere love to Chrissy, Eliza, and all my chil- dren, and believe me, in great truth. Your friend and father, Richard Channing Moore. P. S. Mrs. S. has desired me to say, that she was disap- pointed in not seeing some of you. She sends her love to you all. I hope to return to Norfolk the middle of next week — but as the people wish me to hold a confirmation next Sunday week, you must not expect me. LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 263 LETTER TO A SON UPON GOING TO COLLEGE. July 23d, 1825. My dear Son, — I cannot think of your departure from my parental roof without offering you that advice which your inexperience of the world renders indispensably neces- sary. You have arrived at a period of Hfe replete with dangers peculiar to itself — and, as you will be separated from my observation, and placed beyond my immediate care, it will be necessary for you to peruse this letter fre- quently, that you may be enabled to act with propriety upon all occasions ; and to shun those evils with which you may be assailed. Begin and end every day with prayer to the Almighty, to " direct you in all your doings with his most gracious favour, and further you with his continual help." To the observance of this duty you have always been accustomed; being instructed while in the nursery to supplicate the Almighty, and having continued the practice at my own family altar. To your prayers to heaven for direction, you must add your sincere thanks to the Almighty, for the mercies you have enjoyed, and for those blessings you daily obtain from his bounty. In the enumeration of those blessings you will call to view the pious instruction you have always received — the opportunities afforded you in the completion of your education — the health you have enjoyed, and the attention of your affectionate parents. Remember that the object I have in view in placing you at college is to fit you for the due and honorable discharge of the duties of life. To carry into effect my design, you must apply yourself with diligence to your studies — never feeling satisfied with yourself until a perfect knowledge of your stated lessons is attained. Pay the most uniform re- 264 MEMOIR OF THE spect to your teachers — and let them see, by your conduct, that you have been politely bred, and that you consider them not only as your instructors, but as your friends. Should you ever be tempted to do wrong by any of your young companions, resist the temptation immediately and decidedly, and let them discover, by your private as well as public conduct, the high sense you entertain of moral principle. Should any of them possess a vicious turn of mind, avoid their company — for, should you be found asso- ciating with lads of bad principles, your reputation would sutler, and you would certainly be considered as possessed of the same habits and the same propensities with them- selves. Let your particular associates be young men of correct habits and principles, and in their society you will be safe — thinking no evil, no evil will be practised — de- lighting to do good, the purity of your character will be established, and you will be respected by all who know you, and the Almighty will surround you with his continual presence. In all cases, whether of business or pleasure, in which you require counsel, consult the President or one of the professors, and, when the advice you ask is given, be sure to follow it. Such a course will inspire them with confidence in you, and will render your collegiate life a life of comfort and happiness. There is no reasonable com- fort in my power to confer that I will deny you. Re- member, however, that comfort and extravagance are two different things. Whatever the President considers necessary and proper, and my circumstances will admit of, I will most cheerfully comply with. Be steady in your at- tendance on the public worship of Almighty God, and unite with devotion in the service of the Church, always bearing in mind that you are in the presence of the Judge of heaven and earth. My happiness is so dependant on the LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 265 course you may pursue, that by your misconduct my heart would be broken, and my gray hairs brought with sorrow to the grave ; while, on the other hand, by pursuing a vir- tuous course of life, you will add to my enjoyment, and ren- der my old age happy and delightful. While I live, I shall never cease to pray for you ; and, should I never see you again in this world, I trust, my dear child, we shall meet in heaven. May God, in tender mercy preserve you, conduct you in safety through life, and then receive you into glory. Your affectionate friend and Father, Richard Chanmng Moore. TO A son going to SEA. Richmond, May 20th, 1816. My dear Son, — Separated as you will be for a considera- ble time, from the protection and guardianship of your parents ; I have thought it my duty to afford you such advice, as you will find, upon a compliance with its letter and spirit, to be productive of present quiet to your mind ; and of advantage to you in your intercourse with your fellow creatures : and as it may be the last opportunity which Heaven may present to my view, I entreat you to consider it as my dying admonition, and to attend to it with filial reverence. Bear, I beseech you, in continual recollection that there is a God, and that he is the rewarder of those who diligent- ly serve him. Remember that you are always present to his view, and that no sin can escape his observation. Reverence therefore his holy name, and never suffer your lips to be polluted with blasphemy or profaneness. By re- x2 266 MEMOIR OF THE straining from the crime, the awful crime of swearing, your employers will respect you; and those with whom you associate will value and esteem you. Avoid evil compan- ions, especially such as would wish to lead you in the paths of transgression. Suffer not your feet to be led into the ways of uncleanness, which conduct its votaries to ruin and destruction. Should you be tempted to depart from the precepts of virtue, shun as you would a pestilence the temptation; for sorrow of heart and distress of soul will follow the commission of sin. Remember, my son, that few of your companions have had the benefit of an education so pious as that with which you have been blessed : God will therefore expect more at your hands, as your oppor- tunities in life have been great. Never permit your companions to overcome your habits of sobriety: for if they should at any time succeed in making you intemperate, they will then obtain the mastery over your virtuous resolutions, and you will fall a prey to their seductions. Be obedient to those in authority over you ; perform the duties assigned you with cheerfulness and promptitude; and be faithful to your employers. Be kind and gentle to those who are beneath you, and treat them always with tenderness and regard — such con- duct will secure their obedience and their love. Preserve a strict regard to truth ; always perform your promises : and should you through mistake or ignorance do wrong, honestly confess your error, and endeavour to do right in future. Read a portion of God's holy Word every day, and should the thoughtless laugh at you, tell them that you have been taught to reverence the Scriptures, and to make them your rule of life. LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 267 Should any of your young companions possess a quarrel- some temper, avoid associating with them, unless when duty compels you : treat them with due respect: avoid joking with them ; and never speak of their faults to others. Should any of them be vicious, you must be careful how you reprove them ; for should they be unwilling to listen to your advice, they would consider it an insult, and treat you with unkindness, if not with something worse. In order to carry into effect the precepts which I have offered for your consideration, you will stand in need of divine assistance. Ask it then of God, my child, in earnest and secret prayer. Make no public parade of religion, but worship the God of your fathers in private, and evince in a holy life the purity of your heart. Whenever you may be in port, ask liberty of your superiors to attend upon the worship of God ; and what- ever denominations of Christians you may meet with, behave with seriousness and with decency. That God may guard and protect you, shall be the prayer of your father during your absence. Farewell, my son, and should we never meet again in this world, may we meet in a world of bliss and glory. I remain with great affection, Your friend and father, Richard Channing Moore. TO A DAUGHTER. Richmond, Va., Aug. 11th, 1824. 1 have set apart this morning, to address letters to several of my connexions, upon the subject of your dear mother's decease. 268 MEMOIR OF THE Although there is much to comfort me in the discharge of this duty, still it is a painful office, as it necessarily awakens in my recollection the most affecting associations. In her last conversation with me, she expressed the most ardent wish that I would press upon the consciences of her dear children the solemn considerations of religion. It was her last, her dying request, that they would close in with the offers of mercy, take up the cross, and follow Christ. Let me beseech of you, who are her tirst born child, to consider the appeal of your dying mother, as the appeal of God himself, speaking to you through her. Con- sider of what moment it must have appeared to her, stand- ing as she did upon the threshold of eternity, when she could overlook for an instant her own concerns, to think of the concerns of her children. Your life, my daughter, as far as I have seen it, has been morally correct, oh, add to that morality the love of God. That love I mean which will produce in you an obedience to all the precepts of religion, and enable you to set your affections on things above. You have hitherto never been present at the Lord's table : re- member that your Saviour in his last hours required of his followers that duty. Send for your cousin T let him read this letter, and he will find that it is my desire you should converse with him on the occasion, and receive the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper at his hands, the first op- portunity. The last answer in that Catechism in which you have been instructed contains the requisitions. If you are sorry for past sins, believe in the Lord Jesus, intend to live devoted to him in future, and are in charity with all men, you may approach without a fear, and rely upon the God you serve for the communications of his grace. Think deeply, my child, and act firmly. Your mother's death-bed furnished all around it with a LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 269 lesson of great instruction ; her mind was perfectly collected, and perfectly calm ; she had no doubt of her future happi- ness ; she declared that death itself had no terrors ; and a few moments before she expired, she raised her eyes to heaven, and exclaimed, " Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly." May the Almighty grant that all my children may live righteous lives ; and that their last end may be as tranquil as her's. I can ask for no greater blessing whatever. Give my love to Mr. , and entreat him to consider my advice to you equally applicable to himself. Give my love also to T , and family, and to Mrs. E , and daughter, and to Mrs. S , and her husband ; and believe me, my child, with love greater than 1 can express, Your friend and father, Richard Channing Moore. TO THE SAME. Richmond, Va., Aug. 23(], 1824. The sensations which pervaded your mind, on the last sacrament attended by your dear mother, were such, my child, as I should have expected you would have under- gone. Your absence from the altar attracted her atten- tion, as well as mine, and gave rise to some parental observations between us — observations growing out of that love we have always cherished for you. It has been a maxim invariably observed by me, in my intercourse with my children, never to force that duty upon them, but to leave them at their own discretion. This cautious mode of procedure has arisen from the apprehension that my advice might be viewed, in some measure, as imperative, and they might be influenced to do that for me which they 270 MEMOIR OF THE did not consider they owed to God. The death of your mamma has, however, induced me to overlook my former purpose; especially as it was her dying vnsh that 1 would press the subject of religion on the minds of her children. It would have been singularly gratifying to me to have received you at the altar myself; but as the distance is so great, and life is so very uncertain, I would rather you should not postpone it unnecessarily. As your cousin T resides in Philadelphia, I should prefer your union with him : next to your brother D , he is my nearest and dearest clerical connexion. Sacramental communion is the discharge of a rational duty, and is to be viewed through that medium. We have been redeemed from ruin, by the death and passion of the Redeemer; and it is his command that we always bear our obligations in mind, by confessing him in the world, and by an obedience to his precepts. The qualifications of a com- municant are drawn up in the last question of our Cate- chism, hoih fully and truly. How am I to know that I repent truly of my former sins and negligences 1 The safest criterion by which to judge in this matter, is our life. If we are sorry for past sins and negligences, that sorrow will deter us from a continuance in them, and lead us to that course of practice enjoined upon all Christians. Conscious of our weakness, we will pray for the influences of God's Holy Spirit to excite in us a detestation of sin, and the love and practice of holiness. How are we to know that we have a lively faith in God's mercy, through Christ, with a thankful remembrance of his death 1 The way to ascertain this truth, is by asking our hearts such questions as these. Do I believe that I have been redeemed from misery by the Lord Jesus Christ? And did God, in pity to man, find out that way for the escape of his intelligent creatures? LIFE OP BISHOP MOOEE. 271 If such is my belief, I will, upon all occasions, show my gratitude to God, by loving him with all my powers, and evince to heaven, the world, and myself, that I have a thankful remembrance of the death of Christ, by the com- memoration of his sufferings, as exhibited in the Last Sup- per, and by openly declaring myself a Christian. What are the benefits whereof we are partakers thereby? The strengthening and the refreshing of our souls by the body and blood of Christ, as our bodies are by bread and wine. In a way that we cannot perfectly explain, God is pleased to make the ordinances of religion the channels Cii\\\% love to man. We perform our duty, in obeying that precept which leads us to the altar. God strengthens us by his inward grace imparted to us ; thereby enabling us to love him more, and serve him better. Read the twenty-fourth chapter of St. Luke, and you will perceive, that although the Saviour had conversed at large with Cleophas, and his associates, still they did not know him until he break bread, and gave to them. Christ Jesus is the same now that he was then; of course, as ready to communicate a display of his power to all who love him as he has ever been. In this display of power, my beloved child, you are not to expect any thing miraculous. It will show itself, Jjy in- creasing your desire to love God, and warming your heart with devotional feelings. I would recommend it to you to cultivate an intercourse with a few sensible Christians, to separate yourself from all those who think or speak lightly of religion, and to engage in no pursuit calculated to chill your religious ardour, or to render you forgetful of what you now feel to be your duty. Write at large to me, and state any difficulties you may think you perceive in the duty before us; and I will, with great pleasure, afford you every information in my power. Let us strive, 272 KEMOIR OF THE my dear child, to prepare for that hour which is near at hand; then we shall meet your mother in that world in which no separations will ever take place, but an eternity of joy be our happy portion. Tell Mr. H , that he must consider my letters to you as addressed equally to him. The truths which concern you, are as obligatory upon him as upon yourself That God may direct you, bless you, and preserve you to the end, is the prayer of, my dear G , Your friend and father, Richard Channing Moore. Love to all. Richmond, Va., Nov. 23d, 1824. My Beloved Child, — I have determined, time after time, since the receipt of your last favour, to sit down and reply to it; but the repeated calls of duty have hitherto pre- vented me. r have, however, this moment returned from my morning walk, and will now comply with my own wishes, and your expectations. f should be happy, were we so situated, that you could make use of my library ; but at the distance at which we are placed, such a measure is impracticable. The books from which you would find the most advantage, at present^ are neither many nor expensive. There is a little volume called the Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul, by Doddridge, to which I would direct your attention. It is both rational and devout; written in a style both pleasing and instructive ; and calculated to warm the heart of the young Christian. Another book, worthj^ your attention, is the Village Sermons. They are short, scriptural, and devout. Your dear mother was fond of them, and frequently used them. A Week's Pre- LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 273 paration for the Lord's Supper, is also a valuable work. It is not of recent origin, but was drawn up many years since, by a member of the Church of England. Obtain the above volumes, if they can be had, and consult T with respect to any others with which he may be conver- sant. While I thus direct the attention of my child to human authors for instruction, I should be wanting in duty, were 1 to omit mentioning the Sacred Writings as the source of the greatest advantage. In the Psalms of David, there is something adapted to every situation in which we may be placed, and to every state of mind in which we may be involved. The 51st is descriptive of the experience of a convinced sinner. The 23d is expressive of the pastoral care which the Saviour takes of all who love him. The 103d shows us the mutability of all earthly things, and the merciful disposition of Heaven towards those who seek his forgive- ness. The Sermon on the Mount, which begins at the 5th of St. Matthew's Gospel, was delivered by a preacher who could not err; points out to us our duty, and shows us the way in which to please and glorify God. St. Luke's Gospel is full of parables, illustrative of the mercy of God to the human family, and points out to the penitent inquirer the nature of the Almighty, and the way of access to his presence. The parable of the Lost Sheep expresses the manner in which the Saviour seeks those who wander from the fold; and the parable of the Prodigal convinces us that past sins cannot shut us out of heaven, provided we will fly to the bosom of our oflfended parent and ask for- giveness. In the Bible we cannot look without improvement, as all Scripture is given by inspiration. It contains the his- tory of our fall, as recorded in Genesis, and the way in Y 274 ME.^IOIE OF THE which we have been redeemed by the blood of Christ, is contained in the New Testament. Make it, my dear daughter, your chief counsellor. It was the book your mother loved ; and all other books were used by her only as subsidiary to it. That heaven may preserve alive in your mind, the desires you now feel, is my ardent prayer; and that the mind that was in Christ Jesus may be in you, and your dear husband; indeed, in all the family with whom you reside, is the prayer, the constant prayer of one who tenderly loves you, Your friend and father, Richard Channing Moore. P. S. Love to Mr. H , and all the family, to T also, and his family, and to good Mrs. S , and her husband. Richmond, Va., Sept. 29lh, 1825. My Dear G , — Last evening, while sitting surrounded by a large circle of friends, your welcome letter was handed to me by Mr. H , in which I was informed of the health of yourself and dear sisters. It would have given me great pleasure to have extended my trip to New York, and to have seen my youngest son comfortably fixed in Hartford ; but as I have always made my own gratifica- tion bend to the imperious dictates of duty, I was obliged to sacrifice inclination at the shrine of my pastoral office. I shall not feel settled, until I have my beloved children around me. I can scarcely tell you how distressing it is to my mind, to be separated from them. The fear of their LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 275 indisposition, and the conviction that it would not have been in my power to hover over them, or even to have readied them under such an event, very often presented itself to my mind, during my journey, and rendered me unhappy. I have always been fond of my children, par- ticipating largely of their distresses, and entering deeply into all their concerns. The connexion in which they formerly stood to me seems in some measure changed. I always knew that my life was of great consequence to them ; but at present, that consideration is, in a degree, swallowed up by the reflec- tion that their continuance is indispensably necessary to my comfort. At my time of life, and in my bereaved state, how wretched siiould I be, were I not placed in the midst of a family, and that family my own dear children. Strangers would not care for an old man, nor shed a tear over him in his distress; but children, thank God are not strangers, especially if those children are Chris- tians. 1 will thank you to give my love to those who are with you in New York, and to request them to be in readiness to return with Captain K . I should have no objections to their visiting Philadelphia, and returning home by land, did not the additional expense deter me; but as my pocket, under all circumstances, wi 1 not justify the measure, they must yield up their wishes, and save me the money such an expenditure would cost. What with C at college, and Mr. C 's salary, I must study economy, or my famil}' will be pinched after my decease. Remember me affectionately to my brother and his family, to your dear grandmother, and all her family 276 ME3I0IR OF THE and connexions; say to my children all a fond father could say were he present, and believe me, my dear G , Your friend and father, Richard Channiivg Moore. Love to Mr. H . Richmond, Va., Sept. 1, 1826. My dear G. — Should I be spared a few weeks longer, I indulge a hope, that I shall visit the North; and once more be blessed with an interview with my beloved absent chil- dren. When you see Mrs. S , present my best re- spects to her and her husband ; express to them my thank- fulness for their kind invitation ; and let them know that I shall embrace the offer of an asylum under their roof at least part of the time. It would give me the greatest pleasure to take my dear C with me to the North ; not only, as it would afford her an excursion agreeable to her wishes, but also as some return for her unceasing attentions to me, since it has pleased God to leave me alone. After passing forty years n a married state, it is difficult to reconcile the mind to such a bereavement as I have experienced. It is not all the unintermitted attentions of children that can supply the vacancy occasioned by the loss of an affectionate com- panion. There are a thousand things continually pressing on the mind, which cannot be disclosed to them : and which nothing but the sympathies of a wife can alleviate or re- move. To reveal to them all that passes in the mind, is impossi- ble : it would burthen them with cares and disquietude LIFE OF BISHOP MOOKE. 277 which a father would shrink from subjecting them to : whereas the disclosure of them to an individual plighted by the most solemn vows to bear part of the weight, would not only lessen the difficulty but very often remove it alto- gether. It is but justice in me to observe, that, as far as children can supply my loss, that loss has been supplied. There are no attentions they have withheld from me. I have never been left one hour alone : and, when the younger part of my family have been visiting their friends, C has hovered around me ; and exhibited in her conduct, the most perfect pattern of filial duty and respect. Scarcely a day passes in which E does not see me, and scarcely a week goes over our heads, in which she, her husband, and her dear children do not pass the evening at my house three or four times. When God shall see fit to take me away, my children will have nothing with which to re- proach themselves — they have been dutiful and kind, and heaven will reward them for it. I do wish, my beloved G , that you lived in our neigh- bourhood, to make one of our family party : and did I possess the power and wealth to have it so, it would have been so long before this time ; but, as my resources are not sufficiently ample to accomplish such an object, I must be contented. Give my sincere love to Mr. H., and assure him of a deep interest in my regard, and believe me, my beloved child, Your sincerely affectionate Friend and father, Richard Channing Moore. y2 278 MEMOIR OF THE EXTRACT. Richmond, Jan. 2, 1832. My dear Son, — I have intended, day after day, to an- swer your last letter, but the mortality which has visited this city during the present month has so engrossed my at- tention, that I have had very little time to think of aby thing but pastoral duty. This day I have a little leisure, and therefore have taken up my pen to address you a few lines. In the midst of all your studies I sincerely hope that you cultivate a heartfelt communion with your God and Saviour ; supplicating him that the mind which was in Christ Jesus may be in you. Pastoral duty, without the spirit of religion to animate you in the discharge of it, would prove a burden to your mind ; and render all your ministerial labours fruitless and unavailing. A good and sound education may constitute you a man of letters, fur- nishing the head with every useful information ; but, rely upon it, that nothing less than divine grace can render a man qualified to bring his resources into spiritual action, and thus enable him to find a passage to the human heart. I could wish you to cultivate the talent of extempore speaking ; studying the subject well, possessing yourself of all its leading truths ; but reserving to yourself the oppor- tunity, when 7iece55^ary, of delivering your sentiments with- out the labour of entire composition. You might form, among the students, a society, in which to improve your- selves in thus delivering your sentiments. It is so import- ant a part of a clerical education, that every student hould endeavour to possess himself of it. Instances so often LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 279 occur which call for extemporaneous effort that I sincerely hope you will strive to excel in it. Always remember me to the professors and their fami- lies, and believe me, My dear C , Your sincere friend and father, Richard Channing Moore. extract. to the same. Richmond, Va., Feb. 23, 1832. The fault in young men consists in being too violent ; straining the voice, and, very often, by that means, doing an injury to the 9natter contained in their discourses. When a man has strong lungs he may weather the storm he thus raises ; but, should his chest be weak, something must give way, and that something is often found in the rupture of a blood vessel, and a retirement from the ministry, if not in premature death. It is a mistake to suppose that a m.an is better heard when speaking very loud ; a deliberate delivery, even when the voice is weak, will fill a large space to better purpose than great vociferation, with that rapidity which is always its accompaniment : for, you will observe, that in propor- tion to the elevation of voice, will be the rapidity of a man's speaking. In common conversation, when men are cool, they, in general, speak slow ; but the moment they become warm, their enunciation becomes very indistinct, in consequence of the agitation and hurry which mark their temper and spirit. With love to the professors, believe me, Your sincere friend and father, Richard Channing Moore. 280 , MEMOIR OF THE EXTRACT. Richmond, Va., Sept. 18, 1833. My dear fc'on, — 1 should consider myself subject to the charge of ingratitude, were 1 to withhold fronn Mr. B and his family my sincere thanks for their marked kind- ness to me while a resident under their roof. Tell them that their hospitality is duly appreciated by me ; and that it would atford me great pleasure to make them a similar return of friendship. It may be so ordered that at some time or other, some of his household may visit Richmond. Should such ever be the case, my house and bosom would be open to their reception. Tell Mrs. B. that 1 enjoyed my seat at her right hand at table very much ; and that upon all future occasions I should lay claim to the same privilege. Mention to E , the pleasure I enjoyed in her socie- ty, and how happy I should be, w^ere you situated nearer to me — I hope the dear children are both well, and that R 's dog can still bark as well as he did, when I was with him. How is my little E , I often think I see her running around the centre table tumbling about like a dumpling, and again picking herself up with perfect good humour. She is certainly an engaging little puss, and has made a deep impression of attachment on my mind. Tell the woman who opened the street door so often for me, that I remember her, and hope that she may be so good, that the door of heaven may be opened when she shall knock for admission. Accept for yourself, my son, the LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 281 strongest assurances of my regard, and my thanks for the many filial attentions I received at your hands, and Believe me Your sincere friend and father, Richard Channing Moore. Richmond, Va:, Dec. lUh, 1840. My dear Son, — In letters received yesterday from your brothers D and C . I have been informed of the death of your youngest son. The bereavement, although it must deeply afflict you and E , is mixed with great consolation. The dear child has committed no wilful sin against his Maker ; consequently has fallen asleep in the bosom of that Saviour who died to save him ; and his infant spirit is now placed out of the reach of all danger, and put in possession of happiness unspeakable and full of glory. I am well aware of the sufferings parents undergo, in the loss of their children ; but 1 also know, that the certainty of the happiness those children are invested with, imme diately on their departure from the present life, most sensi- bly abates the anguish of the parental heart; and will ena- ble them to say with perfect truth, ' not as we will, but as thou, our Father wilt." 1 remember the pangs which rent my bosom, at the departure of my son C , who died when four years of age ; but I also remember, that while bending over his remains I was so satisfied of his happy state, thati would not have turned a straw to bring him back. This world is a world of trouble ; but that trouble with which we are visited, is necessary to our future hap- piness ; for if we met with nothing here but uninterrupted felicity, we should never think of our future state. This we must know would be the case, for we do find from ex- 282 MEMOIR OF THE perience, that notwithstanding all the distresses of human life, we still cling to the world ; and that there is nothing but the afflicting hand of heaven, that can separate our hold ; and enable us, poor sinners as we are, to lay up our treasure in heaven. God, my son, is a God of mercy ; and he has removed your child from your embrace in mercy — he has taken him to himself, and now calls upon you to set your affections on things above, and prepare (o meet that child in heaven. Let your earnest inquiry, then, be made of the Almighty Lord, what wilt thou have me to do. And should you find that the affliction you now feel is productive of a desire to seek and serve the living God — you will be enabled to say in truth, it is good for me that I have been afflicted. Read the above parental remarks to E , close in, with- out a moment's delay, with the ofTers of the Gospel ; and press forward toward the mark, for the prize of your high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Listen, I entreat you, to the good counsel of your dear brothers, and be determined to set your affections on things above, and not on things on the earth." That God, in mercy, may sanctify your troubles to your present and everlasting happiness, is the prayer of Your sincere friend and father, Richard Channing Moore. The following extract affords a touching illustration of his kindness as a master. EXTRACT FROM A LETTER TO BISHOP RAVENSCROFT. ***** " The good and excellent girl presented to my daughter by Mrs. R , paid the debt of nature LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 283 on the 4th inst. She had a severe attack of bilious fever last fall, and had not been well since. In order to contribute to her comfort, she slept in the same chamber with my daughter all winter; and had she been one of my own children, she could not have been more faithfully attended. She vvas sensible of her situation, and fully, I hope, prepared for death. Her mind, she assured me, was at perfect rest: and she requested me to inform her mother that she was going home, and hoped that she would endeavour to follow her. We were all so attached to her, that we followed her remains to the grave, at which place I read the service of the Church, and delivered an address to the coloured people. I never saw more sensation than was manifested on that occasion."* The foregoing letters afford a beautiful example of parental faithfulness and love. They are the warm but simple breathings of a heart beating with emotions of the tenderest regard towards those who looked up to him, with tilial reverence and affection, as the instrument of their being : a heart sympathising in all their sorrows and joys, and feeling to its inmost core, every incident by which their welfare was affected : a heart eagerly desirous of their temporal welfare and happiness, and conscious of an unful- filled joy, while one of the beloved number remained a stranger to the love of God, and the peace of the Gospel. This Christian father was happy beyond the common lot * I remember the occasion above alluJeJ to, anJ recollect also another proof of the kindness of my dear father. The colored burial ground in Richmond is not enclosed, and is therefore much exposed. For at least one, and I think for several nights subsequent to the burial of this favorite servant, my dear father walked out alone a distance of a mile from his residence, and to the grave-yard, which was situated in a very lonely place to see that the grave was not disturbed. The circumstance struck my mind (though but a child) with great force. R, C M. Jr. 284 MEMOIR OF THE of mortals in his domestic relations. His warm affection was reciprocated in no stinted measure by the children whom God had given him. He was the pride and joy of all: nor was there any of their favoured number who would not cheerfully have undertaken any labour, or sub- mitted to any sacrifice within their power that might have been needful for the comfort and happiness of their venera- ted parent. But there was one, his eldest surviving daughter. Miss Christian Moore, who afforded as striking an example of filial tenderness and affection as the world ever saw. She was his companion at home, and often the attendant upon his journeys abroad. She served him by day, and watched over him by night. She anticipated his every want in health, and nursed him with a mother's tenderness in sickness. She seemed to live, indeed, but for him alone. Her own existence appeared to be wrapped up in his, as if he were the centre of her being. She supplied to him, as far as it was possible for a child to do, the want of the partner of his bosom. And her unreserved devotion to him while he lived, could only be equalled by the depth and pungency of her sorrow at his death. The venerable Patriarch whose soul went out in earnest longings for the spiritual healthandsalvationof his children and his children's children, while he continued in this world, did not forget the expression of his paramount desire, in that solemn document by which he arranged his affairs for his departure out of it. The following is an extract from his last will and testament. "It is my fervent desire that all my children should live ajid die in communion with the Protestant Episcopal Church, and never, never leave it upon any consideration. The Lord be with them allP How rich the mercies — how sure the promises of our covenant God! He hath said "Train up a child in the LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 285 way he should go, and when h^ is old he will not depart from it :" " I will be a God to thee, and to thy seed after thee." The fulfilment of these precious promises, in the case of this departed inheritor of the faith of Abraham, enables us afresh to " set to our seal that God is true." One of his surviving daughters writes as follows: *' Our dearly beloved parent left nine children, eight of whom are in full communion with the Church. Since the decease of our dear parent, three of my sister H 's daughters have united themselves with the Church, and her two sons are now inquiring the way, and I hope will very soon kneel around that altar, where he for whom we now mourn so delighted to serve." For several of the latter years of his life, favoured with zealous and faithful assistants, both in his parochial and diocesan charge, the Bishop allowed himself the luxury of spending a great portion of his time in the bosom of his ,devoted family and parish, where he daily received those attentions and caresses which proved so grateful and sooth- ing to his affectionate mind under the growing infirmities of age. From this time it is unnecessary to give a detailed account of those acts of public duty which had now become few in comparison with the great number which had crowded into the record of previous years. Never, how- ever, to his latest hour, did he put his " harness" off, or hold himself in any other attitude than that of preparation for his Master's work. Notwithstanding his advanced age, he continued to exercise his Episcopal function in those parts of the diocese which were accessible by steamboats and rail-roads; and wherever he went, the highest interest was excited by his apostolical services ; and he received as hearty a welcome, from ministers and people, as he had z 286 MEMOIR OP THE ever done in the earlier days of his Episcopate. His in- terest in the Theological Seminary seenned to become more intense and paternal as he approached the end of his career. He was generally present at the annual exami- nation of the students, and mainly anxious that all of them should be well instructed in the doctrines of the Gospel, and the principles of the Church ; and that none of them should be admitted to Holy Orders, unless there was ground to believe that they would prove faithful and successful ministers of the Lord Jesus Christ. As a sincere lover of evangelical truth in its simplicity and purity, he dreaded any speculations or discussions that were likely to shake the confidence of ministers or people in the fixed standards of our faith; and, as one " set for the defence of the Gos- pel," he was ever ready, in obedience to his ordination vows, " with all faithful diligence to banish and drive away from the Church all erroneous and strange doctrines, con- trary to God's word." When the Church, on both sides of the Atlantic, began to be agitated, a few years ago, by the publication of "Tracts for the Times," edited by certain members of the University of Oxford, Bishop Moore was among the first to take the alarm, and to sound a solemn note of warning. He uttered his formal and deep-toned protest against what is novel and false in those notorious productions, in the presence of his Convention; and the Committee on the State of the Church echoed back a faithful and cordial response to the sentiments of their venerable Diocesan. The pre- sent writer, having announced to him his intention of pub- lishing a course of lectures upon the Church Catechism, containing a system of " Theology for the People," received a reply, of which the following is an extract: LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 287 Richmond, Va., April 13th, 1839. Rev. and Dear Sir, — I am really grieved to see so great a disposition nnanifested by sonne of our brethren, both in England and this country, to unsettle the religious opinions of the members of the Church : to cut them loose from those principles we have always held sacred, and to set them adrift from that safe anchorage, secured to them by our articles and formularies, without either compass to steer by, or helm to direct them, in their passage to eternity. I rejoiced, upon the perusal of the remarks made, on the subject of the Oxford Tracts, by the Bishop of Ohio ; and I again rejoice to find you disposed to oppose the current of heterodoxy, and to plead in behalf of that atonement made for poor sinners, and their justification by faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. I can truly say, that you have my thanks for your proposed efforts, and my prayers for the prosperity of the work you expect to publish. The truth is, that should those solemn doctrines meet with any formidable opposition in this country, and the integrity of the Church be invaded and endangered, I do believe its unity will be destroyed — its prosperity be broken up — and Ichabod be written on the walls of our hitherto united Zion. Believe me to be. Rev. and Dear Sir, Your sincere friend and servant, Richard Channing Moore. The same anxiety to prevent the spread of the danger- ous views in question, is exhibited in the following passage of a letter to another clergyman : 288 MEMOIR OF THE April 17th, 1839. Rev. and Dear Sir, — I have written within a few days to and , of , inviting them to the Conven- tion of Virginia, which is to meet in Norfolk the middle of next month. If convenient to you, it would give great pleasure to Bishop Meade and myself to meet you also on that occasion; and as the Oxford Tracts have attracted the attention of many of the best friends of the Church throughout our country, we could converse at large on the subject of their contents, and come to an understanding with respect to the probable consequences which may arise from the contemplated publication, and adopt such measures as the peace and prosperity of the Church might call for at our hands. The excitement of the Tract controversy is now rapidly subsiding; and if we be not mistaken in our judgment of its results, the incidental evils which have followed the insidious productions of Dr. Pusey and his school, will be more than counterbalanced by the good effects of the many clear and elaborate vindications of the truth which they have called forth. The Church at large will separate between the wheat and the chaff; and while some young and unfledged theologians will be carried away to Rome, we be- lieve that the great body of our ministers and people will have a more thorough understanding of the real principles of the Church, be more firm in their attachment to the fundamental doctrine of justification by faith, and be better armed for their conflict with the emissaries of the Pope, than they ever were before. It is a cause of thankfulness, that few of our clergy, and none of our bishops, advocate the views of the Tractarians without exception, while the LIFE GF BISHOP MOORE. 289 mitred dignitaries of the Mother Church have spoken out in terms of strong and decided reproof of those pecuharities which distinguish the " Oxford Theology" from that of the Primitive Fathers, and of the Reformers of our Church. We believe, therefore, notwithstanding the once threat- ening aspect of the storm, that, when it has passed away, the fair citadel of our faith will remain unharmed ; with its ornaments untarnished, and its walls still tirmly resting upon broad and durable foundations. We believe that when the shadow of this temporary cloud shall fade away from her disk, the Episcopal Church in England and America will shine forth with more than its pristine splen- dour, and, by God's blessing and grace, be still acknowl- edged as the pride and glory of Protestant Christendom — the noble bulwark of the Reformation. " That once, as out of Zion peal'd the trump Of ancient gospel — hence the battle voice Of truth reform'd should ever bravely roll, And waken echoes, such as Luther's heart Could welcome, deep as burning Cranmer's love, Or Ridley o'er his pangs of fire prolonged !" In these days when it is fashionable to speak of all the various classes of opinion and feeUng in the Church under two appellations implying nothing more than gradation, like that of different notes of music in the same scale, the reader may be anxious to know whether the subject of this memoir was a High Churchman, or a Low Churchman? The writer deems it of very little importance which of these ecclesiastical party nick-names was given to his venerated friend, though he would gladly relieve his memory from whatever might be considered reproachful in either of them. He is not prepared to adopt the defini- tion of a clerical wit who said "a High Churchman is a z2 290 MEMOIR OF THE high fool, and a Low Churchman is a blockhead" — or that of an equally witty lady who, being asked the difference between High and Low Churchman, said " there is the same difference that there is between a cold loaf and a warm one :" but he believes that the terms are often flip- pantly used by many who would be unable to give as ac- curate an interpretation of them as either of the above quoted. He is, nevertheless, willing to make an attempt to gratify what may be deemed by some a reasonable curiosity upon an important point. But it is necessary to give definitions before we can pronounce upon the propriety of applying to any individual terms which may mean any thing or nothing, according to the peculiar views and prejudices of the person by whom they are employed. If by a High Churchman we intend to designate one who believes the divine origin and perpetual obligation of the Christian ministry under the Episcopal form, who has a strong attachment to the Liturgy of the Church, as ad- mirably adapted to all the purposes of public worship, and feels bound to use it before all sermons and lectures accord- ing to the prescriptions of the canons and rubrics: one who believes, ex anirno, the doctrines taught in. the Creeds, the Articles, and the Homilies, as being agreeable to the word of God, and the faith of the Catholic Church : who loves those ''old ways" which were marked by the footsteps of Apostles and Fathers, and stained by the blood of the holy martyrs, and has no sympathy with the novel inventions of heresy and schism under their Protean forms ; if these things constitute a High Churchman, then was Bishop Moore one. But on the contrary, if to be a High Churchman, is to depend on union with an Apostolic ministry, and the recep- tion of Sacraments duly administered, as the ground of a LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 291 hope of salvation ; to reverence tradition and the opin- ions of the Fathers as constituting in combination with Scripture the foundation and rule of faith ; to oppose associations, lecture-room services and revivals, as more dangerous than meetings for worldly amusement and plea- sure ; to be content with an ecclesiastical union to Christ without a spiritual union with him by faith and love, and to be satisfied with baptismal regeneration without a reno- vation of heart, and with the form of godliness without any experimental knowledge of its power : if these, and other kindred properties which might be mentioned, constitute a High Churchman, then Bishop Moore was not one. Again, If by the term Low Churchman, it is intended to designate one who, to an attachment to the divinely constituted ministry and government of the Church, adds a fervent love for the doctrines of grace as clearly taught in her Articles, and breathed throughout the hallowed offices of her Liturgy : — who reverences the Sacraments and other ordinances as channels of divine grace, and means of communion with the Lord : one who delights in associations, lecture-room services, and revivals : one who, while firmly maintaining his own principles, cherishes a spirit of forbearance and charity towards the followers of Christ of every name: who views the Church as a means rather than an end : and who thinks her highest glory con- sists, not in the purity of her services, or even in the divine origin of her institutions, but in the high gifts God bestows upon her in the holiness and faith of her ministers and members, and in the honour he has assigned to her as his chosen instrument in the illumination and salvation of man- kind: If these things constitute a Low Churchman, then Bishop Moore was one. On the other hand, if to be a Low Churchman, is to attach little importance to Episcopacy, viewing it as an 292 MEMOIR OF THE institution, which, though of primitive usage, rests upon no higher ground than that of expediency, and cannot rightly be considered essential to the perfection, much less the being of a Church : if it be to regard the Sacraments as mere matters of form and ceremony rather than as signs and seals of the covenant of grace: if to have but a loose, languid regard for the Liturgy, and a willingness to abridge, mutilate, or omit it whenever caprice or convenience may dictate : if these and other kindred properties which might be mentioned, constitute a Low Churchman, then, most assuredly, Bishop Moore was not one. On one occasion after a conversation with the writer, upon Church principles, he playfully remarked — " my dear friend, you and I may be as high as we please, but they will always rank us with the low." The real difference, as he well knew, was not so much in religious opinion as in re- ligious feeling. And this appears to be recognized in the new nomenclature which some have recently adopted, who speak of " the letting-out party," and the holding-in party :" of " the go-a-head party," and " the stand-still party." But no servant of God should be willing to wear the trappings of party livery in the Church ; nor, should he complain of any nick-name which may be ignorantly or maliciously applied to him: but should say, with the Apos- tle, " it is to me a small matter to be judged of you or of man's judgment: he that judgeth me is the Lord." Such was the feeling of that venerable servant of God of whom we now speak. Whatever might be the judgment or the reproaches of men, he was content with a clear conscience towards God. Without designating the grade of his church- manship by any prefix, whether high or low, he was wil- ling to be known as occupying the broad, common ground of a Churchman. If we are not deceived in the *' signs of the times" the LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 293 operation of our missionary system and other causes now at work, will, by God's blessing, bring about such unity of spirit, that all will be content to cast away their party livery, as a badge of disgrace rather than of honour ; and nothing more shall be necessary to entitle one to the con- fidence of all his brethren, than the simple declaration, " I am a Churchman !" While Bishop Moore, with the simplicity of a child, re- ceived all the doctrines contained in the Holy Scripture, and with his whole heart vindicated and sustained the principles of the Church, as contained in her standards — without inquiring whether those principles were embraced by this man or that — whether they were favoured by one party or another — being satisfied that those principles were deduced from, and might be proved by, the Sacred Vo- lume ; he was enabled to adorn the Gospel by a holy life and by a faithful discharge of his pastoral and ofiicial du- ties; because he habitually looked to God, and earnestly besought him to strengthen him by his grace, and work in him to will and to do of his own good pleasure. The fol- lowing unfinished prayer, found among his manuscripts, clearly shows, that he was in the habit of casting all his cares upon the Lord, exercising an entire dependence upon Him for ability to perform aright the momentous duties of his ministry, and to furnish him with suitable auxiliaries in his important work. " ALMIGHTY FATHER, who in infinite mercy hast pro- mised to listen to the supplications of those who love and fear thee : who, for the encouragement of thy creatures, hast exhorted them to make known unto thee their wishes and desires : Thou who providest for the young ravens, and extendest thy protection to the weak and defenceless, vouch- 294 MEMOIR OF THE safe to hearken to my voice, and to shelter me under thy compassionate wings. In a land of strangers, I fly to the bosom of my God for protection : to that God who hath fed me all the days of my Ufe, and hath conducted me in safely from my childhood and helpless infancy to old age. Blessed Jesus ! in a region in which thy holy religion is so much disregarded, I look to thee for succour and for help. In a region in which thy holy name and character are both derided and denied, I lift up my eyes. In a region in which infidelity is countenanced, and the divinity of the Redeemer is disputed, I call for an interest in thy paternal care. Oh, bow thy heavens, gracious God, and come down to my re- lief. Let it be known that there is a God in Israel, and that I am thy servant. For years. Gracious God, have I stretched forth my ministerial arm to a gainsaying people. Hasten the period, I beseech thee, when all opposition to thy cross shall be prostrated in the dust — when men shall feel their sinfulness, and be made to know the want of a Saviour — when vice and immorality shall be driven from our abodes, and prayer and praise be heard in every dwell- ing. Have mercy, oh God, upon those who have no mercy upon themselves. Open their eyes, that they may see the wondrous things contained in thy word, and seek a refuge from thy just indignation. Arise and have mercy upon Zion. Build up our desolate walls, and fill thy sanctuary with pious worshippers. Send forth, I beseech thee, la- bourers into thy vineyard, labourers influenced by thy grace to discharge their duty with fidelity, and qualified to advance the happiness of those entrusted to their care. Dispose them, gracious God, to study thy holy word, that they may be conversant with its truths, and prepared for the defence of thy gospel. Inspire them with the love of prayer ; warm their hearts with the charity of thy reli- LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 295 gion. Meekly instructing those who oppose themselves^ oh let them rise superior to all the temptations of the world. Make them holy, hlessed God, in heart and in Hfe, giving no offence in any thing that the ministry be not blamed." The man who thus habitually waited as a suppliant at the throne of grace, and, under a consciousness of his own ignorance and impotence, " made known his requests unto God by prayer and supplication, together with thanks- giving," could not fail to obtain Ihe guidance of the Divine Spirit, and to have ** God's strength made perfect in his weakness." Accordingly, in the distinguished alacrity and success with which all his public duties were performed we behold striking illustrations of the power and efficacy of prayer. Wherever he went in the name of Jesus, he was accompanied with the presence and blessing of the Master. Never, perhaps, was there a Christian Bishop whose public ministrations were more fully and uniformly attended with a manifest blessing from on high. But there were some occasions when he appeared to much greater advantage than at others. If we were to name those when the " unction from the Holy One" seemed more abundantly to rest upon him, and diffuse around its sacred odours, we would select those annual ones, when he was seat- ed as a patriarch in the midst of his ecclesiastical family. Yes ! they alone have seen Bishop Moore in his glory, who have beheld him discharging the duties of his high func- tion as President of a Virginia Convention. A Virginia Convention ! There is something to ani- mate and warm the heart in the very title ! When we ?peak of most other Diocesan Conventions, we think of assemblages of the clergy and lay delegates, with the Bishop at their head> convened chiefly for the purpose of 296 MEMOIR OF THE attending to ecclesiastical business — of regulating the fiscal and other ordinary interests of the diocese. But how dif- ferent the impression made upon the mind when a Virginia Convention is spoken of! The annual ecclesiastical meet- ings of that diocese have but little of a secular character connected with them ! Business is but a secondary and subordinate matter. The assembly is not limited to the elected members, but is a gathering together of the devoted friends of the Church, clerical and lay, from all parts of the state, not excepting the more distant and remote pa- rishes. Persons of all ranks and ages — "young men and maidens, old men and children," — are gathered together for the purpose of religious improvement and spiritual edifi- cation. It is such a scene as was exhibited among God's people of old, at their solemn festivals, as described in the words of the Psalmist, " 1 was glad when they said unto me, we will go into the house of the Lord. Our feet shall stand in thy gates, 0 Jerusalem. Jerusalem is built as a city that is at unity in itself. For thither the tribes go up, even the tribes of the Lord, to testify unto Israel, to give thanks unto the name of the Lord." In the midst of the hallowed and interesting scenes of that annual festival, the Bishop moved as the presiding genius. He was the centre of attraction and unity to the numerous family of devoted and affectionate children by which he was surrounded. He was a leader or participa- tor in the numerous devotional services which took place day after day, and night after night. His heart glowed with the kindled fervours of faith and love; his eyes spar- kled under the inspiration of hope and joy ; and his tongue flowed with melting eloquence, as now he urged his minis- ters to greater zeal and faithfulness, and then exhorted the people to repentance and a holy life. These annual Con- LIFE OF BISHOP MOOBE. 2Q*1 ventions were to him sources of unaffected pleasure and delight. As, amidst these times of refreshing, he beheld the word of God taking effect upon the hearts and con- sciences of the people, and witnessed answers to prayer in the conversion of sinners, he rose to higher and higher de- grees of enjoyment, till, as the end drew near, it seemed as if he were in a rapture or ecstacy; just ready, like Eli- jah, to go up in a chariot of fire to heaven ! Never have we witnessed a spectacle which so nearly answered to our idea of the purity, and joy, and love of the primitive Church, as the closing scene of a Virginia Convention* When the body of weeping clergy gathered around the altar, while, in the presence of a crowded but praying as- sembly, their Right Reverend Father in God, with shaking hands and whitened locks, stood before them as an appro- priate representative and successor of the Apostles — and, with streaming eyes, and a voice tremulous with emotion, gave them his parting counsels, and pronounced over them his affectionate farewe — Ila scene was presented upon which attending angels might gaze with rapture. We give the following as a specimen of the farewell addresses. But, alas ! it cannot be accompanied with the sweet voice, the appropriate gesture, the melting eye, the overwhelming pathos and feeling which threw around the va- ledictories of the living Bishop their most attractive charms. " My Clerical Brethren, — As we have finished the duties for which we convened in this city, and, as life is so uncer- tain that we cannot all calculate upon meeting on a simi- lar occasion, I should consider myself deficient in duty were I to permit a separation to take place without bringing to your view some considerations of vital importance to your- selves, to the flocks to whom you minister in sacred things, A A 298 MEMOIR OP THE and also offering some remarks expressive of the gratitude we owe the Almighty for the rich mercies conferred upon us as servants of the altar, and the Church committed to our charge. The concourse of people who attend our Conventions from every part of the diocese, attest the re- sponsibility of our office ; prove the interest they feel in the concerns of our Zion, and proclaim to us, in language which cannot be misunderstood, the necessity of minis- terial fidelity. What ambassador of the Saviour can look around him at this moment, without the conviction resting on his mind that he will have to give an account of his stewardship ; that the precious immortals who attend on his ministry merit his unwearied efforts ; that it is his duty to deliver his Master's message with scrupulous fidelity; in season and out of season, to call sinners to repentance; to lead them for salvation to the Lamb of God, and to press on their consciences the necessity of that holiness without which no man can see the Lord? To slumber at our posts at the time when our parishioners are anxiously inquiring, * Watchman what of the night — Watchman what of the night V To be listless and unimpressed when they are asking, in accents of the most thrilling anxiety, ' What shall we do to be saved V To be cold and inanimate when the eternal interests of precious immortals are committed to our charge, would constitute criminality of the most flagrant character, and call down on our devoted heads the dis- pleasure of heaven. When we cast our eyes around us, from the pulpits we occupy on the Sabbath, and witness the assemblies of God's people in the sanctuary, we should re- member that they form the objects of the Saviour's com- passion ; the beings for whom he shed his precious blood, and for whom he died on the cross. We should recollect that the great Master of Assemblies is certainly present in LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 299 our congregations, waiting to be gracious to the impenitent ; that the H0I3' Spirit is also present to give efficacy to our instructions, and is pleading with sinners to awake from their slumbers, and to follow Jesus in the way. These con- siderations should influence us to be in earnest; to warn our fellow-mortals of the dangers attendant on delay ; to urge them in the deepest solemnity to prepare to meet their God ; nay, brethren, to pray them, in Christ's stead, to be reconciled to their Maker ; immediately to close in with the offers of divine mercy, and to seek, by ardent prayer, the pardon and forgiveness of their sins. We should per- mit no considerations of pleasure or indulgence to step in between us and our pastoral duty. We should show the people, by our earnestness and solicitude, that we consider the delay of a moment may bp atfendprl with fatal conse- quences, and that the present hour is the accepted time and the day of salvation. My beloved sons in the ministry, we have no time to fold our arms in ease and indolence. ' Why stand ye here all the day idle?' forms a question which, if justly applied to us, should excite the most awful alarm in our bosoms: as the next declaration from the throne of heaven would be ' Cast ye the unprofitable ser- vant into outer darkness.' However attentive the minis- ter of religion may have been to his duty ; however sleep- less may have been his nights, however abundant may have been his labours; however favourable may be the opinion formed of his industry, his zeal, and his efforts in the gos- pel ; yet, when he shall come to the close of his life, he will feel that he has been deficient, and that conviction will force from his expiring lips the penetrating cry of' Mercy, oh! thou Son of David.' I speak to you, my sons, as a father to his children ; and it is from an experience of for- ty-five years as a preacher of the gospel, that I call upon 300 MEMOIR OF THE you to be faithful. For Jesus Christ's sake, who died for poor sinners, be attentive to the sacred vows which, at the time of your ordination, you voluntarily made. Labour with diligence in the vineyard of your Master, work while it is called to-day, and never be weary in well-doing. Be faithful unto death, and God will give you a crown of ever- lasting life. Let not the discouragements arising from the lukewarmness of your people paralyze your efforts. Let not any momentary unkindness stay your hand. In pro- portion to the sterility of the soil you may be called to cul- tivate, let your diligence be increased. My brethren of the laity, accept my sincere thanks for the patronage you have extended to myself and to the clergy. The Episcopal Church in Virginia, which was almost breathless and expiring a few years since, has not only re- vived, but, through the goodness of God on our joint efforts, now exhibits animation and strength. Instead of five or six efficient clergymen, the Almighty has increased our number to between fifty and sixty. ' Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but to thy name be the praise, for thy honour and for thy truth's sake.' Since my residence in this diocese, the laity belonging to our communion have erected between thirty and forty new churches, and have raised from a state of ruin and dilapidation at least thirty of the old places of worship. We have reason to be thankful for what God hath done for us, and to take courage and press forward. My brethren of the clergy and laity, I commend vou to the care of that being in whose service you are en- gaged. May you long live to see our Zion increase in stature, under the ministry of my Right Rev. brother, Bishop Meade. My gray hairs point to the tomb. My frequent and violent attacks of disease remind me of my proximity to the grave, and proclaim to me, in language I LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 301 perfectly understand, that we must soon shake hands and bid each other farewell. But let that event take place sooner or later, my heart is comforted with the hope that I shall leave you in safe hands ; in the care of an individual who is in the vigour of life ; who loves you, and will labour hard to promote your present and everlasting happiness. My blessing shall rest upon his head ; and the welfare of himself, of the clergy and people of the diocese, will form one of the objects of my last earthly supplications. The Lord be with you all! RiCHARU ChANNING JVloORE." A celebrated poetess of ourcountry, having been present at one of these affecting farewells, thus describes the scene : " BE STRONG FOR GOD WHEN YOUR OLD BLSHOP'S DEAD ." BY MRS. SIGOURNEY. They cluster'd round that listening throng, The parting hour drew nigh. And heighten'd feeling, deep and strong. Spoke forth from eye to eye. For reverend in his hoary years, A white-robed prelate bent. And trembling pathos wing'd his words, As to the heart they went. With saintly love he urged the crowd Salvation's hope to gain ; While, gathering o'er his furrow'd cheek, The tears fell down like rain. A A* 302 MEiMOIR OP THE He waved his hand, and music woke A warm and solemn strain, His favorite hymn swell'd high, and fiU'd The consecrated fane. Then from the hallow'd chancel forth. With faltering step he sped. And fervent laid a father's hand On every priestly head. And breathed the blessing of his God And, full of meekness, said : "Be faithful in your Master's work. When your old bishop's dead. " For more than fifty years, my sons, A Saviour's love supreme Unto a sinful world, hath been My unexhausted theme : " Now, see, the blossoms of the grave Are o'er my temples spread. Oh ! lead the seeking soul to Him When your old bishop's dead." Far waned the holy Sabbath-eve On towards the midnight hour, Before the spell -bound throng retired To slumber's soothing power. Yet many a sleeper mid his dream, Beheld in snowy stole. That patriarch-prelate's bending form, Whose accents stirr'd the soul. LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 303 In smiles the summer morn arose, And many a grateful guest, Forth from those hospitable domes, With tender memories pressed. While o'er the broad and branching bay, Which, like a heart doth pour A living tide, in countless streams, Through fair Virginia's shore: O'er Rappahannock's fringed breast, O'er rich Potomac's tide. Or where the bold resistless James Rolls on with monarch pride. The boats that ask nor sail nor oar, With speed majestic glide, And many a thoughtful pastor leans In silence o'er their side. And, while he seems to scan the flood In silver 'neath him spread, Revolves the charge, " Be strong for God When your old Bishop's dead." The holy man whose exhortations and example proved such incentives to the zeal and diligence of the clergy under his Episcopal superintendence, — who was the centre of attraction and the instrument of blessedness and joy in his own Diocese, was also the honored means of promoting the interests of truth and the extension of evangelical re- ligion in other sections of the Church. Wherever he went he was received with marked tokens of veneration and love. Nor was he ever disposed to be an idler ; but in his various excursions, even at a very advanced period of life, 304 MEMOIR OF THE when most men desire repose from public duty, he was al- ways ready to preach the Gospel and labour for the salva- tion of souls. He was a great favourite in Baltimore; and in the fall of 1839, during the late vacancy in the Episco- pate of Maryland, he visited that city for the purpose of consecrating St. Andrew's Church. It was a time of re- vival, when a deep interest in the subject of religion per- vaded the minds of a large portion of the population. It was one of those " seasons of refreshing" which the Bishop enjoyed most thoroughly. He preached in the different Churches day after day, aud night after night, for the greater part of a week ; and such was the refreshment of spirit which he found in the holy exercises of the sanctuary, that he made no complaint of bodily weakness or fatigue. Among the interesting reminiscences connected with that visit, there is one touching incident worthy of a permanent record. With all the zeal and energy of youth, that "old man eloquent" had proclaimed to a crowded auditory the love of Jesus and the riches of redeeming grace. The place was the lecture-room of St. Peter's church. After the bene- diction had been pronounced, the people seemed unwilling to retire and separate themselves from the hallowed scene. During the solemn pause which ensued, four young gentle- men, who had been previously associated in the pursuits of worldliness and gayety, but who had been led by renewing grace to choose that good part which can never be taken away, left the bench where they had been seated, and with locked arms walked up together to the front of the desk, while one of them, in a brief but beautiful address, solicited on behalf of himself and friends the Episcopal bless- ing! With overflowing eyes, and a voice trembling with emotion, the Bishop placed his hands upon their heads. LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 305 gave them his benediction, and in few words exhorted them to be faithful unto death ! It was a spectacle of thrilling interest to all beholders. The Bishop frequently adverted to it afterwards, as one by which he was deeply affected. He was especially touched when he overheard the fervent aspiration that came from the heart of some mother near the desk, '* O, that my son were one of that blessed band !" Highly did he enjoy that season — for there was no music so sweet to his ear as the sigh of penitence or the song of praise gushing freshly from the new-born soul. He often spoke of the interest and joy connected with that brief visit ; and there are others who will never forget them " While life, and thought, and being last, Or immortality endures." He again visited Baltimore in September, 1840, to assist in the consecration of the Rev. Dr. Whittingham to the Episcopate of Maryland. He was much gratified by the opportunity afforded him of intercourse with several of his brethren in the Episcopal office, and rejoiced in the unani- mous election and happy consecration of one whose dis- tinguished talents, and acknowledged piety, afforded ground for the hope that, by God's blessing, he would prove a centre of unity, and an example of zeal and diligence to the clergy and laity of that important but long distracted diocese. We know of no other events in the life of the subject of this Memoir which it is important to record, with the exception of some which occurred within a few months preceding his decease. The son of his beloved and distinguished nephew, the Rev. Dr, Bedell, having received his theological education 306 MEMOIR OF THE at the Virginia Seminary, and been ordained Deacon in St, Andrew's Church, Philadelphia, by Bishop Moore, at the request of the Bishop of Pennsylvania, was desirous of re- ceiving Priest's Orders by the same hands. Having ob- tained the permission of his Diocesan to this elTect, the arrangement was accordingly made for the ordination to take place in August, 1841. The Bishop seems to have had an impression, induced by his very advanced age, that this visit to the north would probably be his last. This may fairly be inferred from the following extract from a letter to one of his sons, who had proposed accompanying him to the Springs. Richmond, Va., July 28lh, 1841. " My Dear Son, — I have received your very affectionate letter, expressing your disposition to attend me to Saratoga, and do think that such an excursion would be productive of great benefit to my health; but I am unwilling to give up all thought of attending the General Convention ; and should I go to the north at present, I would be under the necessity of absenting myself from Virginia for three months — a length of time I cannot reconcile to my mind. Your kind offer, however, of going with me to the Springs, is not the less acceptable, and proves to me, with additional force, your affection and regard. The impossibility of visiting my children immediately, renders me more anxious to be with you than I otherwise should be ; and should I see my way clear, I may see you by the last of next month. But as such an event is de- pendent on various circumstances, you must not expect me before that time, of which I will give you timely notice. Old age forces itself on my reflection, especially as my LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 307 health is more imperfect than common ; but as my appetite has returned in a small degree, I entertain a hope that I may regain sufficient of my stamina to enable me to travel, and, indeed, to enjoy a change of air and objects ; and, above all, the society of my dear children." It was natural that, on so peculiar an occasion as the ordination of one of their kinsmen, and that, perhaps, the last occasion on which he would perform this duty of his office, he should desire the presence of the clerical mem- bers of his family. The following letter to his eldest son, conveying such a request, at the same time evinces his unabated fondness for professional duties. Philadelphia, Aug. 22d, 1841. " My Dear Son, — Although your sister G— — has written to you, requesting you to visit this city at the present time, still, as her letter may have miscarried, I have concluded to add my entreaties, as an additional inducement for you to come on ; especially as it will be so agreeable to me to have your protection on my journey further north. I really have arrived at a period of life when I require the aid of my children to render my travelling at all comfortable. Your cousin, Bedell, has appointed an Association in his parish, to commence on Thursday next, which will be concluded by his admission to the Priesthood, on Sunday, the 29th inst. ; and as I am to officiate on that occasion, it would be highly gratifying to me that you should be pre- sent to unite with me in the imposition of hands on the head of the candidate. I will return with you, and preach in your church the Sunday following; and should my strength admit of the effort, I will also go with you to 308 MEMOIR OF THE "^ Trinity Chapel in the afternoon. I think I feel better for my excursion thus far, and hope to find further benefit from proceeding as far as Staten Island and New York. If Channing could make it convenient, I do think it would be no more than proper that he should also unite in the ordi- nation of his cousin. Your affectionate father, R. C. Moore." The ordination took place in conformity with the arrange- ments mentioned in the foregoing letter ; and the Rev. Mr. Bedell has kindly communicated an account of the services connected with that interesting occasion, which will now be spread before the reader. Westchester, May 12th, 1842. Rev. and Dear Sir, — A better illustration of the affec- tion, and laboriousness, and zeal of my dear uncle, has not come to my knowledge, than is afforded by the circum- stances of his first and last visit to my parish, Westchester, Pennsylvania. As he then performed one of his last Epis- copal acts, those circumstances may be of interest to you in the memoir you are about to write ; and I give you such impressions as remain of that visit, that you may make such use of them as you shall see proper. It is known to you that I am the grandson of his youngest and .favourite sister, and the last of seven descendants of his mother, whom Christ has led to desire part in the ministry of his Church. The intere&t which he took in my progress towards that ministry, as well as his near re- lationship, and the love we ever bore towards him, made our whole family desirous that he should, if possible, ordain LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 309 me. By the kindness of Bishop H. U. Onderdonk, he was invited to this duty, and did ordain me in July, 1840, in St. Andrew's Church, Philadelphia, himself, by request of Bishop Onderdonk, preaching the ordination sermon. As the time drew near when, by the canons of the. Church, I might be admitted to the Priesthood, God's good providence having continued the life and strength of my revered uncle, the desire to have him perform this second ordination also, prompted a request to that effect to my Diocesan. With his usual kindness, he immediately complied with the re- quest; and it was to perform the act that Bishop Moore visited Westchester on the 27th of August last. The day previous, the services of an association had been commenced in my parish. The Bishop was aware of this, and hastened his visit on that account. He had not been well during the preceding months, and was little able to go out of his way; nevertheless, his affection prevailed with him, and he arrived here about 5 o'clock of the 26th, after a fatiguing ride from the city. By the time he had taken tea, the hour had arrived of our meeting for prayer, held before the more public service. I said to him, " I suppose you will be too much fatigued to come over now, Uncle." " I don't know that," he replied. And, much to my surprise, just as the meeting commenced, he walked in and took his place in the chancel. That evening, his son Channing, preached; and he followed with one of those moving addresses, with which no one knew better than he how to follow up a sermon. Weary though he was, " he had come up to work," he said; and he hesitated not to begin at once. On the next morning, he examined me for Orders, In the afternoon, he again appeared at the services. At the £ £ 310 MEMOIR OF THE ♦ prayer-meeting of the evening, he was again present, joined with his melodious voice in the Liturgy, of which he at least never wearied, and Ustened afterwards with mark- ed attention to a sermon by Dr. Tyng. This he followed by a touching appeal in behalf of the Saviour he loved. I shall never forget, how the "old man eloquent" stood that evening, on the borders of the grave, his white locks, and his uj)lifted, trembling finger, telling of experienced age; but in the cause of Christ, forgetting every'weakness of the flesh, one finger only resting on the chancel-rail, his whole frame roused by the energy of his mind, and active under the influence of his feelings. How impressively he told us of the Saviour whom he had served for fifty years, and bid us hear an old man's testimony, that no service was so glad as that ; and none could enter on it too early in life; that he had found no occasion to repent his choice, but rather deemed it wiser each step he drew nearer to the grave ; and that as he looked soon to leave this world, no thought gave him such satisfaction as that he was a servant of Christ. The tears of not a few persons in the audience, showed the power of his eloquence : among them was an old soldier of the revolution, who told me afterwards he had not shed a tear before for years. With such services the week closed. On the morrow was the ordination. Rev. Channing Moore, with the Rev. Dr. Tyng, shared the morning ser- vice. Rev. Dr. Lee, Bishop elect, preached. Bishop Moore performed the ordination, and administered the com- munion, made another powerful exhortation before the dis- tribution of the elements, and took part in the distribution. In the afternoon he was again present at the services ; and so far from showing weariness, was so wrapt up in one of Dr. Tyng's delightful displays of the fulness of the sal- LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 311 vation in Christ, and the freeness of its offer to sinners, that apparently forgetting where he was, he cried out, " That's true ! that's true !" The effect was great ; and not dimi- nished when the preacher, catching the sound, adverted to the sanction given by age to the truth which he proclaimed. The evening services gave us, as a people, the last sight of his benevolent countenance. These were unusually long; for after the sermon, Dr. Tyng made an address of an hour in length. But the Bishop gathered up his strength for the occasion, and at the close of a day of labour, whicii would have exhausted many a younger man, made the most powerful appeal to his " dear children" that I ever heard from his lips. You know, for you have heard, the subjects of his closing addresses. They were similar, but ever new. And as he laid his spectacles back upon his forehead, and thanked his new friends for their kindness, and spoke of the little expectation he had of seeing them again in this world, and implored them to meet him at the right hand of the Saviour, in judgment, and asserted his willingness to fall on his knees and pray them to yield to the striving spirit, if that would avail, and weeping, and hesitating through emotion, besought them to be reconciled to God : every word seemed a new shaft of power to pierce the hardest heart. We can speak of these things now, but we shall not hear them again. He was a true prophet, when, at West- chester, he said we should see his face no more. We were unwilling to believe it, and hoped against hope that many times he might be in abundant labours in our midst. He has gone to his rest in full faith on the Saviour he told us of, and so long served without weariness or disappointment. And a more affectionate, laborious, zealous, devoted, 312 MEMOIR OF THE eloquent, father in our Israel, sleeps not in the tomb, than good Uncle Moore. I am obediently yours, G. T. Bedell. Rev. Dr. Henshaw. Having spent the intervening time with his children and friends in New York and its vicinity, he was present at the opening of the General Convention in that city, on the 6th October, 1841. He took a deep interest in the proceed- ings of that body, relating, as some of them did, to some of the most important measures which had ever been pre- sented to the consideration of that highest legislature of the Church. Occasionally he was seen as an interested listener to the animated debates of the House of Clerical and Lay Deputies, and daily was he found occupying his seat in the House of Bishops, taking his appropriate part in the deliberations and acts of that branch of the Con- vention. Among other important topics of consideration, there was a most interesting proposal to send two Missionary Bishops to foreign land?. The experiment of Missionary Bishops at home, had been tried, and found to be attended with the happiest results; and there are many who believe that the Church will not have complied with the purposes of her Divine Head, nor have yielded obedience to his plain command, till she has sent forth men invested with the full powers of the Christian ministry, in its highest order, to conduct her Missionary operations among the be- nighted and perishing nations of the earth. As Apostles were the first Missionaries, so the successors to their office must be the leaders of the " sacramental host," in its aggres- sive movements against the dominion of the powers of dark- LIFE OF BISHOP 3IOORE. 313 ness. This proposal to send oat foreign Missionary Bishops, beUeved by its movers to be the most momentous one which had ever been submitted to the Church since its organiza- tion in this country, received the almost unanimous ap- proval of the House of Bishops, but was not sustained by the majority of votes in the other House. While the matter was under discussion by the Bishops, and it was somewhat doubtful what their decision would be, Bishop Moore, contrary to his usual policy — which, in reference to Foreign Missions, had been extremely cautious, not to say timid — advocated the proposal with the utmost boldness and earnestness. On this important point, we quote the words of Bishop Meade. " In relation to the sentiments of our deceased father on the most interesting points of doctrine and practice, I can testify that they have more and more coincided with those denominated evangelical in the Church of God. His sympathies, his habits, were with those ministers who held them, distinctly preached them, and acted in accordance with them. There was one point in which, from a pecu- liarity in his constitutional temperament, he shrunk back from action with them, and with those of different views on some subjects, but of the same on this — I mean the Foreign Missionary Work. From an extreme tenderness of nature, he revolted at thought of the dangers and hardships of the Missionary life, and could not bring himself to recommend young men of his ordination to choose the foreign field; although he never sought to hinder the good work, but ever said to myself, that I was at perfect liberty to use any means for its promotion. I allude to this, in order to bb2 314 MEMOIR OF THE give force to the following fact, which I take indescribable pleasure in nmentioning. " At our last General Convention, the subject of foreign missions was one most prominent in the House of Bishops, and it was the desire of the bishops to take more vigorous measures than heretofore to enlarge the tield of their ope- ration. They proposed the appointment of two Bishops, the one for Texas, the other for Western Africa, and de- signated two individuals for the same. The brethren of the House of Bishops will testify to the manner in which our aged father delivered his sentiments on the subject, how emphatically he declared his hearty approbation of the measures, and how in reply to the objection that means could not be obtained for such additional expenses, he solemnly called upon us to proceed in the good work, doing our duly, and putting our trust in the Lord, who would pro- vide. I can truly say that my heart was greatly encour- aged by his words, but I little thought that they were to be the very last words I should hear from his lips. Were they not in anticipation of his death — the words put into his mouth by the Spirit of the Lord, lest after his death anv one should be allowed to sMy that Bishop Moore lived and died indifferent to Foreign Missions ? Let them be his legacy to this diocese, his last exhortation to us to remem- ber Africa and Texas in our prayers and contributions." During the session of the General Convention the writer of these pages often met with his venerated friend. On several occasions they dined together, and never did the Bishop appear to enjoy the pleasures of social Christian intercourse more highly. Full of vivacity and cheerfulness, abounding in anecdote and sprightly conversation, he was the chief attraction of every circle, and his conversational LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 315 powers seemed like a brilliant jet (Teau, which sparkles most brightly in reflecting the rays of the setting sun. Little did we think on parting, after one of those scenes of innocent enjoyment, at the house of a mutual friend, that it was for the last time. Bishop Moore left New York and returned home before the final adjournment of the General Convention. This probably was occasioned by some call of parochial duty, or by his desire to have a short season of repose in the bosom of his family, before entering upon that visitation which was destined to bring his earthly labours to a close. After his arrival in Richmond he officiated and preached on a funeral occasion. His address was extempore, and such was his energy, animation, and fervour, and such the influence of his exhortation, that an old Christian of another denomination said, " Surely this must be his last, last mes- sage to Richmond." It was so. Two days after he obeyed the call of duty, and commenced, in his eightieth year, a journey of one hundred and fifty miles, to Lynch- burg, to perform Episcopal functions. He arrived at that place on Thursday, 5th of November. On Friday he at- tended divine service in the forenoon — in the afternoon he met, at the Rector's house, the candidates for confirmation, and made them a very admirable address on the qualifica- tions for that holy rite. In the evening he attended divine service again, and, after a sermon by one of his presbyters, he made an address characterized by the highest degree of pathos, animation, and energy. Eyes that seldom wept were suffused with tears, and some of the most hardened in impenitence were softened, when the old and venerable servant of God, in tenderest accents, and with outstretched, trembling hands, and fervent love, heralded, for the last 316 MEMOIE OF THE time, the good tidings of the gospel, and " entreated them, for Christ's saiie, to be reconciled to God." At the close of a day, thus usefully and joyfully spent in the service of his Master — lovely and appropriate end of such a life ! — the fatal shaft was sped — and within three hours after his tongue had been employed in exhorting his fellow men to the pursuit of heaven, he was seized by that sickness which so speedily conducted him to the joys of that blissful state. The subjoined statement of the Rev. Mr. Atkinson, at whose house he expired, giving a detailed account of his last hours, will be perused with mournful, but pleasing in- terest. " In compliance with my earnest solicitations early in the summer. Bishop Moore had promised to make a visita- tion to Lynchburg during the summer or autumn. From the General Convention he wrote to me that he would be with me on the first Sunday in November. On the Thurs- day before, being the 4th day of November, I met him at the boat, which had brought him up from Richmond, and took him to my own house. He was that evening fatigued but did not seem unwell. A few friends came in to see him after supper, but he did not converse much and retired early. I was told afterwards, by a fellow passenger. Judge Balch, of Florida, that on board the boat the Bishop had been very cheerful, and that his benignity, vivacity, and conversational powers, had rendered his society exceedingly delightful, during the two days of their journey from Rich- mond. The morning after his arrival I went into the Bishop's room, to carry him down to breakfast. He had dress- ed himself, and seemed entirely refreshed from his fatigue of the night before. At family prayer, he asked me to LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 317 read a portion of Scripture, while he would himself pray ; 1 accordingly read one of the Psalms, and I remember being struck at the conclusion of it, with the tone and ex- pression of countenance with which he said, " how beauti- ful is that psalm !" It struck me as showing how truly he sympathized with the feelings of affectionate, hopeful, cheerful trust in God, which the Psalmist so often and so touchingly expresses. Certainly piety never wore a more amiable aspect than as exhibited by Bishop Moore. At eleven o'clock he went to Church, where there was service and a sermon by one of his clergy. He sat in the chancel and said nothing. In the afternoon a number of persons, the greater part of whom were candidates for confirma- tion, met at my house for the purpose of receiving more special and distinct religious instruction than could well be conveyed by public services. These he addressed in a very edifying as well as affecting manner. That same night he went to Church again. I did not urge him to do this, but I have since regretted that I had not urged him not to do it. It was too much fatigue for a man at his time of life. A carriage was always kept waiting for him, but neither at this time nor before would he use it, greatly preferring to walk. After the sermon on that evening, he rose to address the congregation. I had often heard him on similar occasions, and been exceedingly moved by his fatherly exhortations. But never was I more impressed than at this time. His placid affectionate countenance, his hoary locks flowing down his neck and shoulders, his trembling hands upraised above the congregation, would have touched the feelings of any man without a word being spoken. And his words were so solemn, so tender, so simple, so parental, that it did seem as if he were expostulating with his hearers, as 318 MEMOIR OF THE with his dear children, as he several times called them. No wonder, then, that not a few were in tears. From the Church he walked home. The evening was chilly, the Church had been a good deal heated, and he was himself excited by speaking. I doubt not, then, that during that walk, rendered slow by his age and infirmities, he greatly increased a cold under which he had previously laboured, and truly laid the foundation of the violent disease under which he so soon sunk. On reaching home, however, there was no indication of this. We sat together for an hour or two by ourselves before he retired to bed, and his conversa- tion was as animated and interesting, as I ever knew it. He slept at the opposite extremity of the house from the chamber which 1 occupied, and there was a passage and another room between us. I wished a servant to sleep in the room with him, both this night and the night before, but in each instance he declined it, saying he was not ac- customed to it, and it was not necessary. During the night he rose, and when attempting to get back into bed he fell and called for help. At first I did not hear him, being at such a distance and asleep, but in a few minutes I was waked by a servant that slept in a room between us, and hastened into his, and assisted him to get into bed. We thought he had been for some time on the floor, unable to rise, but my servant had heard him fall and thought it was a very few minutes. After getting into bed, he took some slight stimulant, and I again left him for the night, taking care, however, that there should now be a servant sleeping in the room. In the morning when J went to see him, I found him in bed, and complaining of being unwell. I re- commended to him not to get up, but to let me send for a physician to prescribe for him. I should not have thought this necessary in an ordinary case, but his age, and the LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 319 value of his life, made it necessary that nothing should be neglected. The physician called in, thought the case nnore serious than I did, but did not seem to anticipate danger. This was on Saturday morning. His worst symptom was a pain in his left side, that was, however, soon removed by bleeding. All that day he lay very quiet, talking but little, and not complaining of much pain or sickness. His appe- tite, however, had left him. He had hoped on Sunday morning to get up, but when the time came it was mani- festly improper, though he seemed better. That morning he was to have administered Confirmation, had he not been taken sick, and numbers of people had come in from the country to witness it, and to see and hear him. So great was the anxiety to be present, that persons had left home be- fore daybreak, and ridden many miles to be at Church that day. This was mainly because of the veneration in which he was held for his age, his piety, his eloquence, and his faithful and successful labours in building up the Church in Virginia. When his sickness was announced, it evident- ly produced general grief and anxiety. It was then hoped that he might confirm on Tuesday evening, and notice to that effect was given. On Monday morning he seemed very greatly better and talked much and cheerfully. On the evening of that day, however, a sudden and most painful change took place. He became delirious, and the pain in his side intense. Other physicians were called in to con- sult and the most active and, I believe, skilful remedies were used. But for a long time they were of no avail, and by one o'clock the physicians believed he would die before day-break. They thought it so certain that it was proper to mention it to him. I was left alone with him for that purpose. He had just waked up from sleep, refreshed and soothed by an anodyne he had taken, and his first 320 MEMOIR OF THE words were to express his comfort. I then told him dis- tinctly, but as gently as possible, what the physicians thought, and that if any thing remained to be done by him either for this life or another, it must be done now. He was evidently surprised, not, I believe, having thought himself in much danger before. He immediately answered however, with perfect composure, to this effect : " Well, Sir, I trust all things are arranged with me for both worlds" He then asked if the doctors thought mortification had taken place : I told him no, but that they feared he would be suffocated by the phlegm that was accumulating in his throat. I then asked him if he had any message for any of his family. He said nothing but love for his dear chil- dren. I asked him to recollect whether there might not be something particular that he would wish to say. He said he would think if there were any such thing. But after being silent awhile, he went to sleep without speak- ing. About this time a favourable change took place. His blister drew, and he was relieved from the phlegm that seemed likely to choke him. There was again some, though but a faint hope of his recovery. For two days longer he lingered, lying generally in an unconscious state, though sometimes he would rouse up, and converse a little. Once or twice I asked him anew if he had any communica- tion to make to any of his friends. His reply was the same as at first. " Nothing but love for his dear children." On Thursday morning, about a quarter after one o'clock, his pure and gentle spirit went to its place, I doubt not, but assuredly believe, in favour with God, and in peace with all the world. On that same day I set out, together with the Rev. Mr. Doughen, to carry his remains to Richmond, His deportment during sickness, was such as became the termination of a life spent as his had been. Even in pain LIFE OF BISHOP 3I00RE. 321 and delirium, he was patient, affectionate, unselfish. The qualities of the man of God, had with him been wrought into habits of holiness and love that preserved the beautiful consistency of his character, even when reason had for- saken her throne. Although in common with his whole Diocese, I had previously felt for him] affectionate venera- tion, yet never did I love and honour him as when he lay sick in my house. And though I lamented that his family should have been so far from him, I considered it a privilege that I should be permitted to witness the last days of such a man. My prayer was and is, sit anima mea cum illo. Thomas Atkinson. Lynchburgh, March 30th, 1842. The circumstances attending his death — taken as he was from the very field of conflict with the powers of dark- ness, where he had so successfully wielded the " two edged sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God," may serve to remind one of the following beautiful effusion from Mont- gomery's gifted pen. " ' Servant of God ! well done, Rest from thy loved employ ; The battle fought, the victory won, Enter thy Master's joy.' -—The voice at midnight came ; He started up to hear : A mortal arrow pierced his frame, He fell — but felt no fear. " Tranquil amidst alarms, It found him in the field, A veteran slumbering on his arms, Beneath his red-cross shield: c 323 MEMOIR OF THE His sword was in his hand, Still warm with recent fight, Ready that moment, at command. Through rock and steel to smite. " It was a two-edged blade. Of heavenly temper keen ; And double were the wounds it made. Where'er it smote between : 'Twas death to sin ; — 'twas life To all that mourn'd for sin ; It kindled and it silenced strife, Made war and peace within. " Oft with its fiery force, His arm had queil'd the foe, And laid, resistless in its course, The alien armies low : Bent on such glorious toils, The world to him was loss ; Yet all his trophies, all his spoils, He hung upon the cross. " At midnight came the cry, ' To meet thy God prepare !' He woke, and caught his Captain's eye; Then, strong in faith and prayer, His spirit, with a bound, Bursts its encumbering clay : His tent, at sunrise, on the ground, A darken'd ruin lav. LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 323 *• The pains of death are past, Labor and sorrow cease, And, life's long warfare closed at last. His soul is found in peace. Soldier of Christ ! well done ; Praise be thy new employ ; And, while eternal ages run, Rest in thy Saviour's joy." The tidings of his decease, as they were rapidly carried through the country, awakened deep and powerful emotion: for none had been more generally known, or more univer- sally beloved. His death was felt not only as a calamity to the Church whose highest order he adorned, but as a loss to the Christian world. Meetings of the clergy and of the vestries of the Churches were held extensively, to adopt the customary resolutions of respect for his memory, and regret at his removal. And not only within, but without his Diocese, many pulpits and altars were clothed in the drapery of mourning. His remains, as we have before stated, were carried to Richmond, and there committed to their final resting place amidst the tears of his bereaved family and flock, and the heart-felt sympathy of the entire community. The vestry of his parish have caused to be erected over his grave a costly and beautiful MONUMENT TO BISHOP MOORE. The base of this monument consists of a piece of granite, on which is placed a block of marble chiselled into the shape of an antique sarcophagus, from the centre of which arises a pyramid, the whole attaining the height of sixteen or seventeen feet. On the eastern side of the sarcophagus is to be found this inscription: 324 MEMOIR OF THE " RICHARD CHANNING MOORE, D. D. WAS BORN Ijr THE CITY OF NeW YoRK, August 2\st, 1762." " He laboured faithfully and successfully in the ministry of the Protestant Episcopal Church 54 years." " He was rector of the Monumental Church in Richmond, And Bishop of the Diocese of Virginia, 27 years." " In the Convention that called him to the Episcopate, There were only 7 members." " At the time of his death there were 95 clergy in the diocese of Va." " He died in Lynchburg, Virginia, Nov. 11th, 1841, At the age of 79." On the opposite side is an inscription commemorative of Mrs. Moore. At the base of the pyramid, on the east side, is sculptured in bas-relief a cross, over a portion of which some drapery is hung, and on the opposite side an altar; on the northern side there is a representation of a Bible with the following inscription engraved thereon : "Daniel, Chap. XII." " They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever." And on the opposite side a Prayer-book is represented with this inscription : " In the midst of life, we are in death." LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 325 The character of Bishop Moore, in its leading features and most prominent traits, has been so fully developed in the preceding biographical sketch, that the writer deems it unnecessary to prepare a distinct and elaborate analysis of it, as a finish of the grateful task which is now drawing to a close. Yet is he unwilling to take leave of his subject without a brief glance at the character of his venerated friend as a man — a preacher — and a bishop. To a sound and well-balanced intellect, cultivated by a liberal education and an extensive knowledge of the world, he added such an amount of human learning as qualified him for the most acceptable and efficient performance of his professional duty. In him all the amiable feelings, kind sentiments, and tender charitiesof our nature were sweetly blended : and being baptized with the spirit of the Gospel, and sanctified by the graces of devotion, rendered him a most lovely example of an affectionate and cheerful Christianity. Even to the last, though bending under the in- firmity of years, his cheerfulness never forsook him, and he was the life of every family circle in which he was domi- ciliated, though but for a season. His was a character, which, while it inspired the reverence, awakened the love of childhood ; — while it commanded the respect, won the confidence of manhood ; — and, while it awed the vicious, silently recommended to them the gospel he professed. As a Preacher, he was decidedly and thoroughly evan- gelical in his doctrines; tender, affectionate, and fervent in his spirit ; clear, nervous, and perspicuous in his style ; in his manner, eloquent and graceful, and pathetic to a fault. His orthodoxy was not like the brightness of a wintry night — clear but cold. "He never dealt in the false com- merce of a truth unfelt." He stood in the sacred desk under a full sense of the awful responsibilities of his high cc2 326 MEMOIR OF THE commission : and, as an ambassador of Christ, breathing the spirit of the Master, as he wept over Jerusalem — with earnest, affectionate importunity exhorted men to be re- conciled to God. He would have answered well for the original of the poet's sketch. "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 becomes A messenger of grace to guilty men." " By him the violated law speaks out Its thunders ; and by him in strains as sweet As angels use, the gospel whispers peace. He stablishes the strong, restores the weak. Reclaims the wand'rer, binds the broken heart; And arm'd himself, in panoply complete Of heavenly temper, furnishes with arms Bright as his own, and trains by every rule Of holy discipline, to glorious war, The sacramental host of God's elect !" As a Bishop in the Church of God, while he was tirm in the maintenance of her principles, — watchful against the admission of unworthy men to her ministry, and faithful in the exercise of her discipline, he was the farthest possible from a disposition to exercise arbitrary power, or " lord it over God's heritage." His pastoral crook was swayed most gently, and the Father predominated over the Judge. " He was so merciful as not to be too remiss, and so administered discipline that he forgot not mercy." By his kindness and love, by his fidelity and zeal, in the discharge of the high- est ministry in the Church, he won the affections of the clergy and the confidence of the laity, and none could LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 327 question the claim of such a Bishop to the venerable title of " Right Reverend Father in God." Throughout the whole course of his Episcopate he was faithful and abundant in his apostolical labours, and in the work of his parochial ministry. He had such love for pro- fessional duty, that it might properly be said " it was his meat and drink" to do his Master's will. He had num- bered the years of more than half a century when he en- tered his diocese, and performed an amount of duty far greater than could be reasonably expected from one of his advanced age. In the duties of his station he persevered until the last week of his life ; and was engaged in them, at a distance from his children, his parish, and his home — with his fourscore years nearly completed — when, full of peace and of honours, he was summoned to his everlasting rest. We shall see his face on earth no more. Nothing of him is left to us but the remembrance of his virtues and the enduring fruits of his ministry. The Church may well mourn the loss of his example, his instructions and his prayers. But our comfort is, that the Lord and Head of the Church liveth ever. We rely upon the promises he has made to her, " [ will never leave thee nor forsake thee:" " Lo ! I am with you always, even unto the end of the world." The tried character of the present Bishop of Virginia, and the well-known talents and piety of the " brother faithful and beloved," who has been elected to assist him in his arduous work, afTord a pleasing assurance that the principles and policy of Bishop Moore will still be maintained in the important diocese which was so long favoured with his Episcopal supervision. We may be tempted to despond as we dwell upon the mournful inquiry, <' our fathers, where are they ? and the 328 MEMOIR OF THE LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. prophets, do they live forever ?" But we may be cheered by the persuasion that their spirit will animate their succes- sors. As our venerable Fathers are removed, one after another, we are comforted by the assured hope that they have left behind them, in our Episcopate, sons who will prove themselves worthy of such sires. Men who will keep the banner of the cross ever waving in front of the host. Who, first in every post of duty and of danger, will boldly follow the Captain of our Salvation, and encourage his sol- diers to press onward from conquering to conquer, till he shall appear again on earth, to claim his rightful inheri- tance, and sway the sceptre of peace and holiness over a ransomed and regenerated world. SERMONS SERMON I. " The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures ; he leadeth me beside the still waters ; he restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness, for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley and shadow of death, I will fear no evil : for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." — 23d Psalm, 1st, 2nd, 3d, and 4th verses. The more that we study the sacred volume of inspiration, the more do we become convinced of the superintending goodness of God, and of that pecuHar affection he has ex- pressed for the intelligent production of his hand. Experience assures us, that human life abounds with difficulties; that we are the heirs of sorrow and of pain; and that " man is born to trouble, as the sparks fly up- wards." To calm that sea of distress in which we are involved, Revelation exhibits to our view the most en- couraging prospect beyond the grave. It directs the at- tention of the Christian to a city of refuge — to a haven infested with no storms — to a seat of happiness, in which sorrow and sighing find no admission — where every tear will be wiped from the mourner's eye ; and joys the most sublimated and refined be our portion forever. Though heaven, and the heaven of heavens, cannot con- tain the great Omnipotent, still we find in his word that he dwells in a sincere and contrite heart ; and manifests him- self to his followers, as a father and a friend — " For to this man will I look, says the Almighty; to him who is of an humble and contrite spirit, and who trembleth at my word.' That comfortable manifestation of the Divine goodness 332 SERMONS. of which I am speaking, cannot be experienced by us until we make a surrender of ourselves to the Almighty, and follow Jesus in the way — for the same unerring word which proclaims pardon and peace to the penitent, contains the most solemn declarations of the divine disapprobation to the incorrigible offender. The moment, however, that, in obedience to the command of God, we repent of our sins, believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and make his precepts the rule of our life, that moment we obtain a claim to the pro- mise of divine mercy. The right of the sincere Christian to the support and protection of Heaven, is as legitimate as the claim of a dutiful child to the affection of an indulgent parent. Indeed, the confidence of the believer is founded upon a surer basis; parents may forget their children — "a mother may forget her sucking child, yet will I never," saith the eternal God to the Christian, I will " never forget thee." It is not trouble which need to excite in the mind of a sincere believer the least disquietude. It is not distress which should awaken in his bosom a suspicion of divine goodness. They are evidences of that regard which the Almighty exercises over him — '• for the Lord chasteneth whom he loveth, and scourgeth every son whom he re- ceiveth." Death itself, that king of terrors to the presumptuous sinner, need not intimidate the humble follower of Christ. He is divested of his sting by the triumphant Redeemer ; and comes not to alarm, but to animate the Christian. He brings the faithful a release from sorrow and pain ; he breaks the tie which attaches him to the present life, and sets the soul, which is panting after God, at perfect liberty. He emancipates the Christian from the thraldom of every affliction; his spirit, disencumbered from the flesh, and rising in another hemisphere, flames in the forehead of a more resplendent sky. That this is the truth, and that such are the high privileges of the believer, is fully declared in the subject before us. The Psalmist did not draw his conclusion from premises insufficient to support the fabric SEKMONS. 333 of his hopes ; but as a man of reason and reflection, he leads us to that basis, upon which he erected the superstructure of his dependence. He shows us the connexion of the be- liever to his God. He expresses that benevolent tie by which the Lord Jesus is connected to the believer ; and then, in language calculated to warm the heart and invigo- rate the hopes of the faithful, relates those comforts flow- ing from so affectionate and firm an union: — "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want." The metaphor with which David introduces the decla- ration of his hopes is very affecting, calculated to produce in the mind of the Christian the utmost confidence — a con- fidence which will sustain himirtall the exigencies peculiar to his pilgrimage. The early avocation of the Psalmist was that of a shepherd. " He chose David, his servant, and took him from the sheep-folds, from following the ewes great with young. He brought him to feed Jacob, his people, and Israel his inheritance; so he fed them accord- ing to the integrity of his heart, and guided them by the skilfulness of his hands." The tender solicitude with which David guarded that flock comm.itted to his charge, and the watchfulness and resolution with which he defended his sheep, convey to our minds the opinion he entertained of the goodness of God, and the disposition of the Almighty to rescue those who trust in him from every evil. In defence of one of those sheep, which it was his duty to guard and defend, David risked his life. Of this evidence of his fidelity, he informed Saul, prior to his combat with Goliah, and advanced it as a reason for his despising the threats of that uncircumcised Philistine. " Thy servant," said the stripling to Saul, " kept his father's sheep ; and there came a lion and a bear, and took a lamb out of the flock; and I went out after him, and smote him, and de- livered it out of his mouth ; and when he arose against me, I caught him by his beard, and smote him, and slew him." When the Psalmist looked back, and recollected the interest he had taken in the welfare of his fleecy charge ; D D 3-34 SEKMONS. the clangers he encountered in their behalf, and the fidelity with which he watched over them, he considered it a suit- able figure by which to express his dependence on the Almighty, and at the same time to illustraie that pastoral care with which the Lord Jesus defends and protects those who have taken refuge in his bosom. The same relation, in which David stood to his father's flock, the Redeemer is connected to his penitent people. He is called the Shepherd of Israel, and in order to keep his flock in security, he neither slumbers nor sleeps: but surrounds them with his presence, and feeds them in the fertile fields of his grace. To rescue them from the wild beasts of the forest, and to pluck them from the destructive grasp of hell, the Saviour encountered the most inexpressible distresses. He merci- fully laid down his own life, to rescue them from the do- minion of sin and death : and to open for them a way to the mansions of eternal peace. Under his directing care, we shall be secure from every danger : while we keep within his enclosures, we shall be furnished with every thing conducive to our present and future happiness. In pros- perity we shall have the checks and guidance of his Spirit to direct and restrain us. In adversity, we shall have the promises of the Gospel for our support ; " for he shall feed me," says the Psalmist, " in a green pasture, and lead me forth beside the waters of comfort." The greatest luxuries of life, with which the wicked and presumptuous sinner may be surrounded ; the greatest dainties which can be procured to satisfy his wants, are not productive of that satisfaction to him, which a sincere Christian would derive from provision the most humble, and bread the least refined. The enjoyment of the epicure is momentary, and when satiated and bloated, with the profusion in which he has indulged, his reflections are painful and humiliating. He finds to his cost, that dissipation and excess are not only productive of diseases of his body, but that the powers of his mind lose their elasticity and strength. He perceives SERMONS. 335 that in looking for real gratification in such a course, he has been pursuing a phantom, feeding in a pasture abounding with the most pernicious weeds ; a pasture not only barren of comfort, but like the fig tree mentioned in the Gospel, accursed of God. But the sincere and humble follower of Christ : the man whose treasure is in heaven, and who is seeking a better country, finds a green pasture in any situation, in which God may be pleased to place him. His submission to divine Providence ; his confi- dence in the goodness of the Almighty, render his pros- pects clear and his spirit happy, " for a small thing that the righteous hath, is better than great riches of the un- godly." Psalm xxxvii. 15. " Better isHttle with the fear of the Lord, than great treasures and trouble therewith." Prov. XV. 10. It is in the enjoyment of religion, that the mind of the believer finds comfort and delight. In the sacred oracles of God, that glorious deposit of celestial truth, he reads what is more valuable to him than a thousand worlds — he reads his title to eternal felicity : and in the ordinances and precepts of his Redeemer, he finds a pasture never parched, and never dry ; and while the careless sinner goes empty from the field of the gospel, he finds comforts and pleasures, which the world can neither give nor take away. Instead of negligently passing through the pastures, thus provided for his support, he lies down in them. This is my rest, he ex- ctiaims, here will I feed, and here will I dwell, for I have a delight therein. " Whom have I in heaven but thee ? and there is none upon earth I desire, in comparison of thee." The Church, that enclosure of the Redeemer, not only abounds with luxuriant and ever verdant pasture, but there are also the waters of comfort, to cheer and to refresh the mind of the believer. In proportion as he becomes ac- quainted with the love and compassion of God, the more he loves and reverences him : and the more are his spiritual desires invigorated and increased. That person who would say that his mind is satiated with the enjoyments of religion, or satisfied with the progress he 336 SER3I0NS. has made in the divine life, is impressed with an imperfect view of Christianity. For the pastures of grace, and the refreshing waters of Zion, not only comfort the heliever in his course, but increase his inclination to partake of large and continual supplies. Such was the experience of St. Paul, "forgetting those things which are behind, and reach- ing forth to those things which are before, I press toward the mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." Indeed the Christian's pantings after glory cannot be expressed in language sufhciently strong and pointed. The Psalmist has nobly attempted it; but notwithstanding the sublimity and strength of the figure he used, it falls short of the feelings of his soul : "As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so longeth my soul after thee, oh God. My soul isathirst for God, yea, even for the living God ! Oh when, when shall I come to appear in the presence of God ?" An experinriental knowledge of religion in its operations on the mind, and its influences on the life, " is more to be desired than gold, yea, than much fine gold — sweeter also than honey and the honey comb." In the season of trouble and distress, when with all their united influence, they conspire to check the hopes, and to depress the mind of (he believer — the still waters of God's Spirit — the consolations of the Gospel — the reviving view of that rest, which remaineth for the people of God, aflford him a cordial draught which supports him under trouble — changes the dreary wilderness of adversity into a well cul- tivated field; and converts the desert of his woes into a paradise of joy. He receives his afflictions as the wise dis- pensation of an unerring Jehovah. He considers his dis- tresses as a medicine prepared by his Almighty Physician to refine him from his dross, and to fit him for the skies: looking down from the elevated height upon which he stands, he considers terrestrial objects as of a secondary importance, and withHabbakkuk he triumphantly exclaims: " Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vine, though the labour of the olive shall fail, and SERMONS. 337 there shall be no herd in the stalls; yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will joy in the God of my salvation." The same Shepherd who provides those green pastures and waters of comfort, for the support of the believer, is represented in the text as mercifully disposed to restore those of his sheep, who through the forceof sudden tempta- tion may turn aside from that way, in which he was con- ducting them; for, "he restoreth or converteth my soul, and leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake." The forbearing mercy of God is an attribute, which claims our unceasing gratitude : for if the Lord was to with- draw forever from our view, in consequence of inadvertent transgression, it is impossible that we could be saved; " for there is no man who liveth and sinneth not." When the Psalmist reflected upon this important princi- ple, and considered the infirmities of our nature, he thus expressed the emotions of his mind, — *' If thou, Lord, shouldst mark iniquity — O Lord, who shall stand ?" Not that he supposed it possible for a wilful, habitual, and impenitent sinner to enter into rest. (This was not the species of ini- quity to which he alluded,) for as those transgressions which are the result of deliberate reflection, constitute pre- sumptuous sins, nothing short of the deepest repentance can reconcile the offender to the favor of God. But as man is subject through weakness — through the effects of sudden temptation, and the neglect of his religious duties, to err and to stray like a lost sheep, — he represents the Shepherd of Israel as the watchful guardian of our souls — arousing us from the deadly sleep of sin, alarming our con- sciences, convincing our minds by the awakening influen- ces of his Spirit, of our errors and our danger, exciting in our bosoms a repentance, which needeth not to be repented of, and leading us from the paths of sin, into the ways of righteousness. This part of our subject forms a principle, with which David was well acquainted, for you find him declaring in the 119th Psalm, "I have gone astray like a lost sheep; dd2 338 SERMONS. seek thy servant." That he did stray — that God did abso- lutely seek him — that he Hstened to the voice of his Shepherd and returned to the fold he had deserted, is a truth which he humbly acknowledges; for in the language of gratitude he declares, that God had converted and re- stored his soul. He was a Lamb, which had taken refuge in the fold of Christ ; and when Satan, like a roaring lion, broke within the sacred enclosure, and separated him from the protecting care of the Shepherd, the Lord Jesus smote the detested monster. He awakened the mind of David to a sense of his awful wanderings, and rescued him from the destructive grasp of the destroyer. Animated with gratitude, and humbled in the dust at the recollection of his perverseness, he confessed his transgressions, and sought an asylum in the bosom of his offended Maker. " I have sinned," said he, "against the Lord ;" and the messen- ger of mercy declared, " The Lord hath put away thy sin. " Conducted thus in safely through life — impressed with the fullest confidence in the affection and superintendence of heaven, he declared his willingness to trust that Being in his last conflict with the king of terrors, who had preserved him during his pilgrimage; and concludes the triumphant declaration of his unshaken reliance on God, in these an- gelic strains: " Yea, though I walk through the valley and shadow of death, I will fear no evil : for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff comfort me." It is a serious, solemn truth that we are mortal creatures. The departure of our friends, our neighbours, our connexions into eternity, proclaim our mortality. Dust we are, and unto dust we must return. We may say to the grave, thou art our mother; and to the worm, thou art my sister and my brother. The tomb, however dark and gloomy, will very soon receive our frail bodies; for yet a little while, and the summons of the great Omnipotent will be communicated to us all. These truths the serious Christian frequently realizes. He calls to mind in his retired moments that solemn period, when he and all terrestrial things will part forever, when SERHioAs. 339 the curtain of human life will drop, when the scene of his temporal existence will be closed ; and that eternal day commence, which to the believer will know of no night. But thanks be to God, the consideration of death, however gloomy to the eye of flesh, is through the medium of the Gospel divested of all its horrors. From the mount of Christianity, he sees beyond the stream of Jordan, the city of his God; that city, in which " there is no need of sun nor of the moon to shine in it : for the glory of God lightens it, and the Lamb is the light thereof." The oracles of religion strengthen and confirm his hopes. As the fellow traveller of St. Paul, he exclaims in triumph, " Who shall separate me from the love of God ? I am persuaded that neither life, nor death, nor men, nor angels, nor all the princi- palities and powers of darkness, shall be able to separate me from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." " Oh, death, thou hast lost thy stjng ! Oh, grave, where is thy victory ?" Encouraged by the views of those who have passed into eternity before him, he descends into the grave with Chris- tian confidence, and sees inscribed upon its portal, " the pil- grim's path to glory." He perceives that it is spoken of by the Psalmist as the valley and shadow of death ; and, as the shadow of a serpent cannot sting — nor the shadow of a sword inflict a wound, his apprehensions vanish ; and his sou] swells with transport and with joy. It is the call of an affectionate father, and he obeys that call with resigna- tion. It is the summons of the best of parents — what then should alarm or disquiet the mind of an obedient child? Does a tender babe dread the approaches of an indulgent mother? Are its fears excited when its ear is saluted with her maternal voice ? As little reason, I am perfectly convinced, has the Christian to be alarmed at his approach- ing interview with a God of mercy and compassion. These ideas may, by the world, be considered as the sportings of an enthusiastic mind ; but may 1 not appeal to the observation of some of this auditory for the propriety and truth of my remarks ? Have you not seen your friends 340 SERMONS. calm as a summer's sea, when arrived at the close of their lives 1 Have you not heard them express their resignation to the will of God, and their willingness to depart ? Yes, with the Psalmist, they have looked back and recognized the hand of the Almighty in the different periods of their existence ; they have traced in recollection his protecting goodness, through all the changing scenes through which they have passed, and, with minds full of expectation, they have said, " Though I walk through the valley and sha- dow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou, my God, art with me, thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." To conclude. The comforts of religion, as I have pre- sented them to your view, cannot fail of exciting in your minds a wish to realize them. If you desire to claim them as your own, you must enter into the service of God, and obey the peaceful injunctions of the Almighty. If you wish to feed in the green pastures of divine grace, and to lie down beside the still waters of comfort, you must enter into the fold of the Lord Jesus, and learn of him who was meek and lowly in heart. If you desire to pass through the valley and shadow of death in triumph, and to reach the mansions of seraphic bliss; if you wish to die the death of the righteous ; you must live holy and righteous lives. It is in vain to expect the enjoyment of religion unless you live in close communion with your Maker. The Christian cannot indulge in the sinful and thoughtless pur- suits of the world, and, at the same time, keep his lamp burning; in his hand. The celestial fire which warms his bosom \y\\\ lose its lustre, and be at length quenched in the pestilential vapour of carnal pleasures. " Draw nigh to God, and God will draw nigh to you," — " Cease to do evil and learn to do well; and though your sins are like scarlet they shall be as white as snow — though red like crimson they shall be as wool." It is supposed, by those who are strangers to the subject, that religion is productive of gloom ; and that the pleasures of the world can alone constitute man happy. I would SERMONS. 341 appeal at this moment to those whose minds are most ab- sorbed in the pursuit of temporal gratification, and to those who pass from one amusement to another in search of en- joyment. I would appeal to them, and ask an honest an- swer to the following questions. Have the pleasures of the w^orld afforded you that happiness which fancy pre- sented to your view, and which you promised yourselves from an indulgence in them ? Have you not found inscrib- ed upon the walls of those apartments in w^hich revelry and dissipation hold their empire— vanity and vexation of spirit ? Have you not often returned home, not only disap- pointed but disgusted with yourselves at the waste of time in which you have indulged — the frippery and nonsense with which you have been surrounded 1 Has not conscience benevolently told you, you were wrong? Has it not re-* monstrated and plead with you to change your course? Lis- ten, then, I beseech you, to the pleadings of that faithful monitor. " Seek the Lord while he may be found." "I pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God." De- lay it not one moment longer — " to-day, if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts;" " for now is the accepted time, this is the day of salvation." SERMON II. "Jesus answering, said, Were there not ten cleansed 1 but where are the nine 1 There are not found, that returned to give glory to God, save this stranger." — Sx. Luke xvii. 17, 18. That man is a sinner, guilty of ingratitude to his Maker, every individual conversant with human nature must ac- knowledge. It forms a principle that admits of no contra- diction, a principle proven by daily experience. If the reception of benefits, of which we are undeserv- ing, always excited our gratitude to God, there would not be in existence a single transgressor ; because there is no man who does not stand indebted to heaven for mercies received. But we find, from multiplied observation, that the goodness of God, instead of attaching man to his Creator, and exciting in his mind a sense of his dependence upon heaven, too frequently renders himself-confident, and gives rise to practices, at variance with every principle of duty and obedience. That this is the case, will appear evident by taking into view the conduct of men in general. Is the possession of riches always productive of a life-devotedness to God ? Are the dwellings of men of wealth always found to be the seat of piety and religion ? Is it there that the voice of prayer and praise is most frequently heard ? Does the health that we enjoy produce that return of gratitude to the Almighty, which the blessing so richly merits ? Is it productive of that animated devotion, which we might rea- SERMONS. 343 sonably expect ? On the contrary, is it not in the hour of ^ distress that man is most disposed to bow at the throne of Jehovah, and to invoke the mercy and favour of his God ? Yes, brethren, and we often find that the moment the cloud of affliction is removed, and man is relieved from the pres- sure of calamity, he relapses into sin, his bosom becomes mflated with pride, and he tramples upon the goodness of his Almighty Deliverer. The history connected with the text is a confirmation of the sentiments just expressed. Let the advocates of the dignity of human nature read it, and be astonished ! It affords us a specimen of the depravity of man which no sophistry can explain away. It stamps the character of ingratitude upon the human race, and, were angels the spectators of the scene, they must have blushed at the vile- ness of mortals, and been amazed at the extent of that mercy which spared the guilty wretches from immediate destruction. Jesus had relieved ten lepers from a loath- some and infectioHs disease : nine of them proved insensible to his goodness, and in one only was a disposition of grati- tude manifested. The view was too affecting to escape the observation of the Redeemer. " Were there not ten cleansed," said the Emmanuel, '' but where are the nine ? there are not found to give glory to God, save this stran- ger." In the explanation of our subject we will consider, First, the circumstances connected with the history, ^^e- condly, take into view the particular features of the text : and then conclude with an application. First. We will consider the circumstances connected with the history. The leprosy was a disease, brethren, of the most afflicting description. It was viewed as a peculiar evidence of divine displeasure. It was a reproach to the unhappy individual who laboured under its influence ; separated him from his business; cut him off from all' conversation with his friends and nearest relatives; shut him out from the privilegesof the sanctuary, and condemned him to banishment until his cure was effected. Were he at any time to see others approaching him, he 344 SERMONS. was obliged to sound an alarm, and to proclaim the evil under which he laboured, by crying out, unclean ! unclean! It was this disease with which king Uzziah was seized, for invading the priest's office, and presuming to burn incense upon the altar, in the temple of the Lord. Though a sovereign, he was secluded from all society; exchanged his throne and the splendours attached to it for a servile-house, and died with the complaint. Thus distressed, and separated from all society, were the lepers mentioned in the text, when Jesus, the precious Jesus, passed by. By the precepts of the Levitical law, they were enjoined to stand afar off; but as they had heard of those evidences of power manifested by the Redeemer, and were apprised of his disposition to listen to the plaintive entrea- ties of the distressed, they united their voices in supplica- ting his aid : " Jesus, master ! have mercy upon us !" A sense of their need made them importunate in their re- quests. It was an auspicious moment, and they were de- termined to improve it. The physician v\^io possessed the ability to relieve them was at hand — the benevolent Sa- viour was passing by ; and his character inspired them with confidence. They therefore lifted up their voices, and implored help : " Jesus, master, have mercy upon us !" It is a consolatory truth, that in every application to Jesus for relief, the sufferers were always heard. The petition, the united petition of these distressed lepers, was, therefore, benevolently considered. Their cry was such as to pierce the heavens; the ear of the blessed Redeemer was open to their wants, and their request was granted. Upon viewing their situation, he immediately discovered his disposition to help them : " Go," said he, " and show yourselves to the priests ! And it came to pass, as they went, they were healed." The ceremonial Law, it is to be remembered, was at that time in operation. The Saviour, therefore, in send- ing them to the priests, provided for its observance — as to them it exclusively belonged to judge of leprous cases. In addition, also, to that respect which he paid to the rites of SERMONS. 345 the Jewish Church, the Redeemer, perhaps, might have taken into view the awakening effects which so sudden a cure was calculated to have produced in the minds of the priests themselves. Upon examining the afflicted lepers, and discovering the perfect relief which they had received, It was reasonable to presume, that their minds would have been impressed with the greatest respect for the character of the Saviour— that Being at whose word the most in- veterate diseases were removed, and sufferings the most afflictive brought to an immediate termination. It also served as a trial of the obedience of the lepers. The Sa- viour could have healed them at the moment, but in order to try their faith, he enjoined them to *«go to the priests," attend upon the instituted means; and though they will not heal of themselves, God will render them efficient; he will bless his own appointments, and will heal you in their diligent use. In obedience to the commands of the Re- deemer, they went in pursuit of those to whom they were directed to apply; and " it came to pass, as they went, they were cleansed." The power of the Lord Jesus was exerted in their behalf; the disease under which they laboured was effectually removed ; and they were restored to per- fect health. If an occasion of gratitude was ever afforded to men, the cure which the lepers had experienced, could not be ranked among the least. Of the ten, however who had been relieved, the mind of one alone appears to' have been alive to the expression of thanksgiving ; the nine were insensible to the obligations they had experienced and mmdful of their own comfort, forgot their benevolent benefactor. One, however, returned to give glory to God • his heart overflowed with love ; he felt the warm glowings ot health pervade his frame, and burned with impatience to acknowledge the mercy he had received. Behold him forcing his way into the presence of the Redeemer See him falling upon his face, at the feet of his great Physician and worshipping the God of his salvation. In his distress' m a loud voice, a voice expressive of his misery, he had implored relief; and when relieved from the pressure of E E 3.46 SERMONS. his calamity, with the same voice, with the same vehe- mence of expression, he acknowledged his obligations. His declarations of gratitude were as fervent as had been his prayers for mercy ; he glorified God, giving him thanks. To afford you a fuller view of the beauties of the sub- ject, we will, secondly, take into consideration the par- ticular features of the text. The ingratitude of the human heart exceeds the limits of description. Of the truth of this observation, the nine lepers furnish a conclusive testimony. It was reasonable to suppose, that under the first impressions of returning health, their hearts would have vibrated with a sense of their obligations, and that they would have encountered a thousand difliculties, in order to have made some acknow- ledgment for the favours they had received. But, beloved, before we are led to censure those ingrates with too much severity, let us for a moment consider whether, in their conduct, we do not discover a true representation of our- selves. Have not we received mercies at the hand of God, equal in importance to that with which they had been favoured? Cannot we call to recollection some mo- ment in which we were labouring under the influence of disease, involved in the extremest distress, when the lamp of life was glimmering in the socket ; when we expected the hour of our departare was at hand, and that a few moments or hours would launch us into eternity ? At that solemn period, did not we entreat for a suspension of the sentence of death; did not we supplicate for a continuance of life, and with the lepers, cry aloud, " Jesus, master, have mercy upon us?" When we looked around us, at such a solemn moment, and reflected upon the distressed situa- tion in which our wives and children would have been plunged by our removal, did not we sincerely pray for our restoration to health, and promise that our future lives should be devoted to the God of our salvation? Yes, be- loved, such, precisely such, were our declarations at that hour ! Yet how little have many of us thought of our gracious benefactor from that time to the present ! Our SERMONS. 347 solemn resolutions have been obliterated from our minds as our disease subsided. Like the ungrateful lepers, we have been unmindful of the mercies of Jehovah ; we have forgotten that Being who arrested the malady under which we laboured, and have not returned to give glory (o God. In addition to those temporal mercies we have received, how abundant is that provision which has been made for the healing of our souls! Yes; when there was no eye to to pity, and no arm to save; when destruction appeared to be inevitable, the Son of God, the only begotten of the Father, the Prince of Peace, vacated his throne, left the realms of bliss, and suffered upon the cross, that man might escape the condemnation of the law, and be rescued from eternal ruin ! What returns of gratitude have we made for this unbounded stretch of mercy? Here and there, indeed, a solitary individual may be found who preserves a consistency of conduct, and returns to give glory to God. But where are the nine ? Where are the mass of those who are pensioners upon the divine bounty ; who have been relieved in the hour of distress by thy merciful compassion ? Where, gracious God ! where are the creatures for whom Jesus died upon the cross, and shed his precious blood ? Where are those upon whom he so often called in tenderness? Where are those who have sworn allegiance to the Redeemer, and have once professed themselves his followers? Where are the nine in the text? They are unmindful of the agonies and sutFerings of the Saviour ; they have turned their backs upon him whom they once professed to love, and are now trampling under foot that blood by which, notwithstanding their ingratitude, they still hope to be saved. To justify a neglect of sacred things, by adducing as a plea the ungrateful conduct of the many, is to reason against the convictions of our hearts and our understand- ings. Who that will exercise his reason, does not approve the conduct of Noah, who, in the midst of an adulterous generation, boldly espoused the cause of truth; who dared to be virtuous ; who had the fortitude to obey his Maker, 348 SERMONS. amidst the frowns and contempt of surrounding thousands ? Who does not commend, in accents of the loudest approba- tion, the conduct of the leper, who, animated with grati- tude, returned to give glory to God, and to worship that Being who had favoured him with his love 1 Yes ; when we see him falling upon bis face, and bowing to the earth, at the feet of Jesus, our souls are enkindled with the fire of devotion, and we exclaim in rapture, " Well done, thou good and faithful servant;" angels also, who, from the heights of bliss witness the scene, re-echo our cries, and sing " Glory to God in the highest 1" It appears from a general view of the history of the lepers mentioned in the text, that the nine who proved so unmindful of the goodness of God were Jews — men in- structed in the principles of religion, and acquainted with the nature and attributes of the Deity: while the one whose heart was impressed with gratitude for the favours he had received, was a Samaritan, a stranger to the covenant of promise, and shut out from every avenue of religious in- formation. Thus, brethren, we often perceive that the returns of gratitude which we make to heaven, are by no means pro- portioned to the knowledge which we possess, or to the blessings we enjoy. Instead of improving our spiritual advantages, and reflecting upon the world that light with which we have been favoured, we are not found to give that glory to God which might reasonably be expected. A coldness of devotion too frequently marks our lives. If we are not positively ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, we feel but little interest in its cause ; and those whose ad- vantages are more circumscribed than our own, put, by their actions, intelligent Christians to the blush. God un- questionably expects that our returns of praise will bear a due proportion to the blessings which we receive. Let not the Samaritan, therefore — let not the individual, who in a great measure may be ignorant of the attributes of Deity, exceed the intelligent Christian in the closeness of his walk with God; but let us take up the cross, and SERMONS. 349 *' glorify God in our bodies, and our spirits, which are his." To conclude. The success which attended the lepers, in their application to the Saviour for assistance, convinces us, not only of his ability, but also of his disposition to be- friend us. His word, remember, is as effectual now, as it was in the days of his flesh. No malady can be so severe as to withstand the power of the Lord Jesus Christ. A hospital of incurables can be relieved by him with as much ease, as the distresses of an individual can be re- moved. Ten applied to him at the same moment for assistance, and they were instantly restored to perfect health ; and if there had been ten thousand, the effect would have been the same, for " he spake, and it was done." The diseases of the soul, also, however great, can be cured by his sovereign word. The chief of sinners — the most flagrant offender — the leprous transgressor, who is without the least soundness in him, by a cry to the Lord Jesus for mercy, will obtain a full and perfect pardon. Fly to him, therefore, while opportunity is afforded you — " Jesus, master, have mercy upon us !" Again. When the Saviour, in answer to your prayers, has removed your distress, give glory to God, I beseech you, by a life of obedience to his precepts. Should you at any time, after the reception of his mercy, be led by the world into any improper situation, or by accident mingle with sinful company, let the inquiry of the Sa- viour, " Where are the nine ?" arrest your attention, and force you instantly from the place. Parley not with transgression, but " Escape for your lives, lest ye be consumed." When engaged. Christians, in your duties, the Re- deemer will behold you with complacency and delight ; and how pleasing will it be for you in those moments, when, in condescending goodness, he inquires, " W^here are the nine?" instead of blushing at the inquiry, to be able to answer : We are engaged, blessed Jesus, in conversing upon that love which brought thee from above to secure E E 2 350 SEBMONS. our salvation. We are employed, blessed Saviour, in sing- ing thy praise ; we are kneeling at thy footstool around the family altar, to implore a continuance of thy favour and loving kindness, and entreating thee to assist us, in training up our children in the knowledge and fear of God. We are engaged in feeding the poor of thy flock — in clothing the naked — in visiting the sick — in drying up the widow's tears — and in assuaging the distresses of the helpless orphan. That such may be the answer of our hearts to the solemn inquiry, may God, of his mercy, grant ! SERMON III. " And Elijah came unto all the people, and said, How long halt ye be- tween two opinions 1 If the Lord be God, follow him ; but if Baal, then follow him." — 1 Kings, iviii. 31. That remarkable display of divine power which attend- ed the ministry of the Prophet Elijah is a conclusive evi- dence of the love and mercy of God. It shows us that the Almighty takes no pleasure in the death of a sinner. It proclaims him long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and in love ; and constrains the reflecting believer to exclaim in admiration, " What could have been done more for his vineyard than he hath done in it." The ingratitude of the Jews, in deviating so repeatedly from the commands of God, should impress our minds with a due sense of the depravity of our nature. It should ex- cite in our bosoms a spirit of vigilance and attention, lest, through the effects of temptation, we should prove equally unmindful of the mercy of heaven, and regardless of the efforts of redeeming love. When, therefore, we feel a spirit of indignation excited in our minds, by the wanderings of the Israelites, let us be upon our guard: and " let him who thinketh he standeth, take heed, lest he fall." The particular mercies which the children of Israel ex- perienced at the hands of their Creator, rendered their backslidings and disobedience doubly criminal — " for to whom much is given, of him will much be required." They were rescued by the power of God, from the oppres- sive yoke of Egyptian bondage, guarded by his particular 352 SERMONS. providence, and conducted, as a nation, to a land produc- tive of every earthly enjoyment. During their journey through the wilderness, they were succoured, and defended by a continual succession of miracles, the common course of nature was changed, and heaven in condescending goodness patronized their tribes. When depressed by the effects of famine, and cut off from every human supply, the windows of heaven were opened, and bread and meat sent down to satisfy their wants from the inexhaustible funds of benevolence and love. When they, their wives and children, were fainting under the oppressive influence of thirst, without the least prospect of relief, the rock, at the command of the Almighty, threw open its adamantine bosom, and presented them assistance in copious streams of mercy. But no sooner did they taste the heavenly waters; no sooner were the pangs of thirst re- moved, and exhausted nature had recovered its diminished strength, than they returned to their sins, and trampled the goodness of God beneath their feet. When Pharaoh, the Egyptia ntyrant, pursued them, although the Almighty went before them in majestic greatness, leading them in the way, in the pillar of a cloud, yet how did they mur- mur and dispute his love ! " Is not this the word (said they to Moses) that we did tell thee in Egypt, saying, let us alone, that we may serve the Egyptians, for it had been better for us to serve the Egyptians, than that we should die in the wilderness?" still notwithstanding their ingratitude and perverseness, the love of Jehovah was not restrained, mercy in quick succession succeeded mercy. Moses was com- manded to divide the sea; in obedience to the voice of God he stretched forth his hand ! the astonished waters opened on either side ! and afforded the despairing Israelites a de- liverance from the hosts of Pharaoh. " The angel of God, which went before the camp of Israel, changed his accus- tomed station, and went behind them, and the pillar of the cloud went from before their face, and stood behind them, and they were led unhurt through the sea. The God of Zion shielded them from the arrows of their enemy, and SERM0N8. 353 overwhelmed Pharaoh and his followers in the deep. While the remembrance of this mighty and astonishing deliverance was engraven upon their minds, they listened to the impulse of duty and feared the Lord. During the first impression of gratitude, and while the destruction of Pharaoh's host was present to their view, they acknowl- edged the goodness of the Almighty. " The Lord is my strength and my song, and he is become my Salvation; he is my God, and I will prepare him an habitation, my fathers' God, and I will exalt him." But how soon did their unbelief excite in their minds emotions of ingratitude •' At the first appearance of distress they again disputed the goodness of heaven, and murmured against the servant of the Almighty. But it would be an endless attempt, to trace all the backslidings of that infatuated people, from their journeying in the wilderness, to the time of the Pro- phet Ehjah. From generation to generation, they were stiff'-necked and rebellious; and instead of walking in the statutes of the Lord, they worshipped carved images, and bid defiance to the authority of the Ruler of the universe. Under these circumstances were they found by the Prophet in my text; who, jealous for the name of the Holy One of Israel, reproved Ahab himself, and reproached the tyrant for his impiety and wickedness. Conscious of the majesty of that Being, whose glory the heaven of heavens cannot contain; and certain of every distinguishing proof of his superintending regard, he desired all Israel to assemble on Mount Carmel, with their false Prophets, in order that they might behold the power of Him, at whose presence the earth treinhles, and the foundations of nature are shaken ! "And Elijah came unto all the people and said, how long halt ye between two opinions? If the Lord be God, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him. And the people answered him, not a word. Then said Elijah unto the people, I, even I, only remain a Prophet of the Lord; but Baal's Prophets are four hundred and fifty men ; let them therefore give us two bullocks, and let them choose one bullock for themselves, and cut it in pieces, and lay it 354 SERMONS. on wood, and put no fire under it; and I will dress the other bullock, and lay it on wood, and put no fire under it; and call ye on the name of your gods, and I will call on the name of the Lord, and the God that answereth by fire, let him be God. And all the people answered and said, It is well spoke7i.'* The prophets of Baal, therefore, prepared their bullock, and called upon the object of their worship from morning even unto noon, to evince his omnipotence. When Elijah perceived their unsuccessful applications, he mocked them, and said, " Cry aloud ! for he is a god, either he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is on a journey ; or peradventure he is sleeping, and must be awakened. And they cried aloud, and leaped upon the altar which was made, cutting themselves after their manner, with knives and lancets, till the blood gushed out upon them." When therefore Elijah perceived that there was neither voice nor a7ii/ to answer, nor amy that regarded, he desired the astonished idolaters to come near him, in order to witness the majesty and power of the God of Jacob. He prepared an altar and dug a trench about it; he laid the wood in order and cut the bullock in pieces, and placed it on the wood, and com- manded them to pour water over it, in order to remove every suspicion from their minds, and to magnify the name of the Lord. And at the time of the offering of the evening sacrifice, the holy prophet came near, and, in the presence of Israel, called upon the Almighty to unveil himself in glory to the people, and to make a discovery of his omnipotent power ! The moment, it must be acknowledged, was truly important. Great were the events that depended upon the issue of Eli- jah's undertaking. He stood solitary and alone, as the servant of God, in the midst of four hundred and fifty of Baal's prophets; still, so great was his dependence upon the Almighty, that his niind appears to have been free from every apprehension; convinced that his prayer would as- cend before the throne, and that the Ruler of the Universe would bow the heavens, and come down at his Jervent en- SERMONS. 355 treaties. '' Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, let it be known this day that thou art God in Israel, and that I am thy servant. Hear me, O Lord, hear me, that this people may know that thou art the Lord God, and that thou hast turned their heart back again. At the voice of his prayer the fire of the Lord descended, and consumed the vi'ood, and the burnt sacrifice, the stones, and the dust, and licked up the water that was in the trench. And when all the people saw it, they fell on their faces, and said, The Lord he is the God. The Lord, he is the God !" With what pious exultation must the breast of Elijah have been filled when he beheld the completion of his hopes, in the manifestation of the divine glory, and the conversion of the people from idolatry ! With what peculiar fervour might he have exclaimed, in the language of the Psa'lmist, *' 0 clap you hands, all ye people, sing unto the Lord with the voice of triumph, for the Lord Most High is terrible. He is a great king over all the earth. Sing praises to God, sing praises ! Sing ye praises with understanding." If the Jews were bound in gratitude to God, for those repeated displays of goodness and of power with which they were favoured, the weight of our obligations, as Christians, must be infinite ! For, in addition to the light of their dispensation, we have been blessed with the supe- rior illumination of the gospel of Christ. The Jewish dispensation, when compared to the Christian, bears no more similitude than the twinkling of a star to a bright meridian sun. If they, therefore, were culpable for the neglect of those means of grace with which they were visited, how deficient shall we be found, when weighed in the balance of the sanctuary, unless we renounce the works of darkness and put on the armour of light ! The Almighty addressed them through the medium of the pro- phets, but we are addressed by the gospel of his only be- gotten Son ! We have his sublime precepts for our guide, he pleads with us in the most endearing language, and sheds his precious blood to rescue us from eternal destruc- tion. Yes, brethren, for us and for our salvation, did he 356 SERMONS. suffer upon the cross. He stept in between offended jus- tice and the degenerate children of men, and averted the wrath of God from a perishing world. " He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and by his stripes we are healed." If the descent of tire from heaven, at the prayer of Elijah, forced conviction upon the minds of the idolatrous Jews, of what impressive effects should the pleadings of the blood of Jesus be productive? If, under the influence of gratitude and praise, they fell upon their faces, crying out " the Lord, he is God, the Lord he is God," how should we, at the recollection of the Redeemer's good- ness, at the cries of our beloved Jesus, when giving up the ghost on Calvary, fall prostrate in devotion, and exclaim, " My Lord, and my God !" But, notwithstanding the un- speakable evidences of regard we have received at the hands of the Almighty ; notwithstanding the pains and agonies of the Saviour on the cross; notwithstanding the miraculous displays of power which attended his crucifix- ion ; notwithstanding all the pleadings of his affection, many — many remain insensible to his goodness. Unim- pressed with his benevolence and love, they can hear him exclaiming in his agony in the garden, "Father, if it be possible, remove this cup from me;" and continue ungrate- ful to the God of their salvation. They can hear him on the cross, crying out in accents of bitterness, " My God, my God ! why hast thou forsaken me ?" and be unmoved. They can behold the rocks rending at the crucifixion of the Redeemer, and be unconcerned. They can see him expire on the cross, combatting the powers of darkness in their behalf, and pass by on the other side, in a state of the most alarming and lethargic inditlerence. Nay, they go farther still. They are not only the unconcerned specta- tors and witnesses of his dying love, but, so far does their ingratitude extend, that the very blood he shed for their salvation they trample under foot. Yes, my fellow mor- tals, the love of Jesus is treated with too much indifference. Many prefer the world to the cross of our all merciful Re- SERMONS. 357 deemer; from the fear of being thought enthusiastic, many of the Christian family are forgetful of their obliga- tions and remain cold and lifeless. They give up the power of religion, and, from the fear of the world, like Peter, follow Jesus afar off. If you should, for a moment, think these observations unfounded, let us turn our eyes in- ward, examine our own hearts, and let them decide whe- ther the declarations I have made are correct or not. In this investigation, beloved, your preacher will attend you and confess himself guilty before God. Does not Baal fre- quently tempt the Christian to relinquish the pursuit of salvation, and to conform himself to the maxims of the world? Are we not at times forgetful of the tender mer- cies of a righteous God? Are not past providences frequently disregarded? Those solemn vows of obe- dience, which, in the hour of distress we have made at the footstool of heaven, are they not sometimes forgot- ten ? With one hand we lay hold upon the horns of the altar, and with the other we cleave to the world. We profess a belief in Jesus and express a love for him with our lips, yet cannot resolve to follow him in the path of duty ! If, at times, the recollection of his goodness impresses our hearts with gratitude, the 7iext moment the world effaces his image from our souls, and we disobey him ! At one in- stant we are on our knees before the throne of heaven, lamenting our sins and crying for mercy, and thenext. per- haps, committing those sins we have just lamented ! These things, my beloved, ought not so to be. Life and death are set before us, blessing or cursing ! " How long halt we between two opinions? If the Lord be God, let us, with an undivided heart,yb//b?^> him; hxiXif BaaV — if the world is the god which commands our attention — let us withdraw our allegiance from the Saviour of sinners, for we cannot serve God and Mammon — the spirit of Jesus can never dwell in the same bosom with the spirit of Belial; he is a jealous God, and will allow no rival in our affections. < And Jesus said unto him, Go thy way, thy faith hath made thee whole. And immediately he received his sight, and followed Jesusin the way." — Mark, x. 51, 53. Gratitude to the Almighty is an unequivocal evidence of the existence of divine grace in the mind. It secures to the possessor the approbation of the Almighty, and com- mands the reverence and respect of the reflecting and judi- cious. The bosoms of those happy spirits v^^ho surround the throne of God are warmed by its inspiration, and their happiness is increased by the exercise of that virtue. Re- solutions of obedience, founded on a principle so pure, will in general prove permanent, acquiring fresh strength as the Christian advances in the divine life ; while declara- tions of affection, extorted from us by fear, will only ob- tain a transient existence in the mind ; continuing no longer than the cause which first excited the alarm. The more deeply the believer reflects upon those circum- stances which first awakened in his soul the heavenly emo- tion of gratitude, the greater will be his inclination to ful- fil its important duties. His first impressions of religion, if sufiered to grow cold and languid by his neglect, will always be excited to action, and obtain fresh ardour, by recurring to that cause and calling to mind those pecu- liar providences by which they were produced. Instead of 390 SERMONS. continuing forgetful of that Being, to whose paternal good- ness he confesses himself obligated, his inclination to love and respect him will be increased, and, under all the vicis- situdes of life, he will look up with adoring confidence to that God, " who hath delivered his soul from death, his eyes from tears, and his feet from falling." Through the weakness of our nature, and the perverse- ness of our tempers and dispositions, we may sometimes act as if the remembrance of past mercies was obliterated from our minds; but the momicnt in which the cloud of de- pravity and corruption is pierced by the light of conviction ; the moment in which the believer, aroused from his slum- bers by the Holy Spirit, considers the weight of his obliga- tions to heaven ; that moment his bosom will feel that godly sorrow which worketh repentance unto life, and grace will discover its existence in the soul by those warm effusions of gratitude and love, of which it is always productive. The recollection of that continued mercy he has enjoyed in the season of his wanderings from the path of duty, will act with all its force upon his mind; and, awakened by a sense of gratitude, the united powers of his soul will fall pros- trate at the footstool of a compassionate, sin -pardoning Jehovah. If the enjoyment of one mercy excited in our hearts a wish to be grateful and obedient, the astonishing repetition of those mercies we are daily receiving, must certainly in- crease that disposition. The Christian, therefore, when communing with his own heart; when retired from the view of mortals, he is engaged in the examination of himself, and inquiring into the extent of those returns he makes to heaven for the mercies he enjoys, must discover, unless blinded by self-love, so much cause for lamentation, so much reason for humility and sorrow, that his mind, op- pressed with the weight of obligation to his Redeemer, will constrain him to exclaim, " O the depth of the riches, both of the wisdom and goodness of God !" " He hath not dealt with me according to my sins, nor rewarded me according SERMONS. 391 to my iniquities." " What shall I render to the Almighty for all the benefits he hath done unto me ?" It is in the character of a merciful and indulgent parent, that the Almighty is represented to our view. Every page of Scripture speaks of our God as long-suffering and abun- dant in goodness; and, from that benevolence which dis- tinguished the life of the Redeemer, the intentions and wishes of heaven with respect to man may be clearly perceived. In the Lord Jesus Christ we find the most per- fect assemblage and union of celestial virtues ; and that mortal, whose heart habitually resists the pleading elo- quence of his love ; that man whose mind is not subdued to obedience by the goodness of God, cannot be prepared for the enjoyment of heaven ; and can have no reasonable claim, while he continues in impenitence and rebellion, to that mercy reserved for the followers of the Saviour. Was the conduct of the Ruler of the universe marked with the appalling features of a tyrant, who exercised his power over mortals, because mortals are unable to resist him — was not the Almighty governed by laws founded on the basis of justice and of love — despair might be adduced as a plea in favour of rebellion against his precepts. But as mercy and truth in him have met together; as the most unexampled benevolence and compassion charac- terize his dealings with us ; as he is represented in Scrip- ture as always ready to relieve our distresses, heal our moral diseases, and to pardon our sins; as we are assured, that in order to rescue his intelligent creatures from reme- diless woe, he undertook the salvation of their souls, and by his own blood and sufferings opened the kingdom of life and glory to all the human family ; as we are informed that God is no respecter of persons, but that he tasted death for every man : — it is impossible to express in language suflS- ciently strong, the legitimacy of his claims to our affection and regard. The subject of our text is an exemplification and proof of the mercy and goodness of God ; and while it presents to our view, in the most affecting language, the tenderness and compassion of the Saviour, it shows us also that the 392 SERMONS. suffering mortal upon whom he exercised his benevolence, was no stranger to the principle of gratitude. It afTords us an instance that human nature, depraved as it is, can be affected and drawn by the cords of mercy and of love; and that the poor afflicted Bartimeus, so far from forgetting the author of his blessings, made a surrender of himself to his deliverer, and followed Jesus in the way. Upon the most careful perusal of the New Testament, you will find that the ear of the Redeemer was ever open to the voice of distress; that a scene of affliction would draw from his eye the tear of sympathy ; and that he never dismissed a petitioner from his presence without granting him that relief which formed the subject of his prayer. The Saviour, as the Sacred History informs us, had visited Jericho with his disciples. The pure morality he inculcated, in connexion with the benevolence of his cha- racter, had impressed the minds of the people with the divinity of his person; and as an evidence of their respect and attention, a great number of the people attended him on his way from that seat of his ministerial labours. As he was travelling and discoursing with the multitude, an op- portunity was afforded him of relieving the distressed, and performing an act of tenderness and compassion : for blind Bartimeus, the son of Timeus, sat by the highway-side begging. Bartimeus appears to, have been acquainted with the extensive powers of that Being who was approaching. He knew that it was predicted of the Messiah, that at his appearing " the eyes of the blind should be opened : the tongue of the dumb should sing: the lame man leap as an hart." No sooner, therefore, was he informed that Jesus of Nazareth was passing by ; no sooner was he told that the friend of the poor and helpless was approaching, than he cried out in language expressive of his wants, "Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me !" To be deprived of sight, must be an affliction grievous and insupportable; to be a stranger to those variegated beauties of creation which surround us ; to hear them de- SERMONS. 393 scribed with the tongue of eloquence, and to be unable to join in admiration, must excite sensations unknown to all but the unhappy sufferers themselves. But when, in ad- dition to that affliction, we behold the unfortunate being clothed in rags; when we see him suffering for the want of comforts he is unable to provide, groping his way through a world abounding with difficulties, his situation appears doubly distressing, and awakens our sympathy and regard. This was the state of poor Bartimeus. Unable to procure a subsistence himself, he depended upon the charity of others, and was supported by the contributions of the humane and considerate; he had no doubt heard that Christ Jesus had assisted others, whose case had been as deplorable as his own. His only relief, he felt conscious, was to be found in the Redeemer; and as the present moment might be the only opportunity with which he should ever be fa- I'oured, he determined to throw himself at the feet of the heavenly Physician, and solicit his benevolent interposition. After the first exclamation had escaped his lips, many of the people charged him to hold his peace ; but, alive to his distress, and sensible of the power of that Being to whom his supplication was offered, he resisted their injunctions of silence, and cried out so much the more earnestly, " Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me !" Shut not up thy bowels of compassion against the poor sufferer who ad- dresses thee — say but the word, and thy servant shall be healed. These accents of distress struck the ear of the only be- gotten Son of God, and commanded his attention. The Redeemer stopped as he was journeying, and ordered the petitioner to be brought into his presence. The anxiety of Bartimeus appears evident, from that language in which the multitude addressed him, in consequence of the com- mand of Christ Jestis : " Be of good comfort," said they, " rise, he calleth thee." They saw his tears; they dis- covered his agitation; they heard his supplicating cries; they knew their master too well to suppose that the ex- pectations of the sufferer would be disappointed; the mo-. 1 1 394 SERMONS. ment the command to bring him forward was given, that moment they considered the cure perfected : " Be of good comfort, rise, he calleth thee." It was enough; he wanted no persuasion to urge liim to obedience ; ho cast aside the few tattered garments with which he was covered, and came naked before his Redeemer. Christians, reaUze in imagination this interesting interview, and witness the com- passion of your Saviour; mark his conduct on this occa- sion with the most scrupulous attention, and as far as lieth in you, go, I beseech you, " Go and do Hkewise." The instant that Bartimeus was led into the presence of the Immanuel, that instant did the Redeemer discover his benevolent intentions toward him. The blessing he intended to confer was truly invaluable; and its value was not diminished by an unreasonable delay ; he marked the distress of the petitioner in the expressive lineaments of his face, and was anxious to afford him relief: " What wilt thou," said the Saviour, "what wilt thou that I shall do unto thee?" The wants of the supplicant, though many, were all summed up in one request. He had, no doubt, frequently looked for assistance from his fellow-creatures; but human skill, so deficient in all its operations, could not reach his case. This, therefore, was his last and only appeal ; his prospects of vision, with all its concomitant blessings, de- pended on the issue of that moment; all minor considera- tions were overlooked ; his restoration to sight engrossed his whole soul. " Lord," he said, " that I may receive my sight." Behold the anxiety of the multitude ; see the prayer of humanity painted in every face; they fixed their eyes upon the King of Israel, and read in his countenance his benevolent reply: that God who said, "Let there be light, and there was light," proclaimed in majestic accents his restoration, " Receive thy sight, thy faith hath saved thee." At that instant the veil of darkness was withdrawn from the eyes of Bartimeus, and the works of creation re- flected their beauties on his sight; he who had groped in the dark shades of night, without a refreshing ray to de- SERMONS. 395 light his mind, or change the dreary scene, beheld the works of his Almighty Parent; he saw his deliverer, the meek and lowly Jesus, arrayed in the smiles of friendship and compassion, and with a heart impressed with gratitude determined to follow in his train : for " immediately he re- ceived his sight, and followed Jesus in the way." Those of us who have received acts of kindness and be- nevolence, can realize in some degree the feelings of the poor beggar; we who have been relieved in the hour of necessity by the sympathetic tenderness of a friend, can judge of the emotions of Bartimeus; no dangers were too great for him to encounter in the service of that Being who had blessed him with vision ; words were but uncertain evidences of his gratitude ; he therefore expressed his ac- knowledgments by his actions; he was not ashamed of Christ; he followed him in the way of duty and obedience. The heart, influenced by divine grace, cannot fail of being pleased with the conduct of Bartimeus; he had received an inestimable blessing, and would have been criminal in the least neglect of that Being who in mercy had conferred it. This is a rational opinion, founded on the principle of moral rectitude, and flowing from the operation of grace on the soul ; the improvement, there- fore, of the idea shall compose the sequel of my discourse. If favours of a temporal nature demand our gratitude, how extensive should be the acknowledgments of the Chris- tian to the God of his salvation ; how fervent the devotions of the awakened sinner ! A momentary distress excites in our bosoms a wish to obtain relief; and when that relief is procured, we feel thankful to the individual through whose instrumentality it is obtained; !et that distress and anguish, therefore, from which we have been rescued by the pains and sufferings of the Lord Jesus Christ, make a suitable impression on our minds, and induce us to be grateful and obedient. The purchase of our salvation was accomplished by the death and sufferings of the only be- gotten Son of God ; it is to the inexpressible love of the Saviour that we are indebted for all our temporal blessings. 39G SERMONS. and that we are encouraged to look forward to everlasting happiness and glory ; we had violated the divine law, and as an infinite sacrifice could alone satisfy the demands of divine justice, either the sinner must have perished, or some compassionate and sinless surety be found to atone for transgression, and to discharge the poor insolvent from his bonds. This surety, then, is the Lord Jesus Christ, in whom was no sin : He it is who " was made sin for us, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him ;" he it is in whom the poor sinner may find redemption from eternal ruin, and obtain perfect remission and forgiveness for all his offences. The atonement forms a subject which can never be exhausted ; it is the last and only hope of every true penitent. The importance of this principle of our holy religion can- not fail of impressing our minds, when we consider the mental as well as bodily sufferings to which it gave rise in the bosom of the Redeemer. When he viewed it at a distance, and the bitter agonies it cost him were presented to his mind, sweat, like drops of blood, crimsoned his cheek; it could have been no little suffering which produced the exclamation, " Father, if it be possible, remove this cup from me !" It could have been no little sufiering which extorted from him the heart-piercing cry, " My God ! my God ! why hast thou forsaken me !" It could have been no little suffering from the effects of which the sacred Jesus bowed his head and gave up the ghost. If the gratitude of Bartimeus was ex- cited by his restoration to sight, how ought our gratitude to be excited by a display of mercies so great as the salva- tion of our souls ! Let us, then, imitate his example, and follow Jesus in the path of duty. In addition to the general proofs of redemption, are there not those present who have been called from the paths of transgression by the voice of the Gospel, and who have listened to that call? Are there not those present, who, at some particular period of life, have been enabled to lay hold on the promises of pardon to the penitent, and have enjoyed a reasonable assurance of forgiveness ? Yes, SERMONS. 397 brethren, when the affections of the behever have been warmed with the recollection of God's goodness ; when he has been engaged in the duty of thanksgiving, and sohciting God to impart to him still greater manifestations of his love ; when, like Bartimeus, he sat by the highway side of the G9spel, panting after God as the hart panteth for the water-brook; at such a season the Almighty has so effec- tually dispelled his fears, that tears of gratitude and love have flowed from his eyes, and his soul has enjoyed a fore- taste of that rest which remaineth for the people of God. Let not such a view of the believer's privileges be con- sidered visionary; for theRedeemer has said, "He that hath my commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me ; and he that loveth me shall be loved of my Father, and I will love him, and will manifest myself to him." It is this manifestation of the love of Christ to the believer, of which I am speaking — a manifestation arising from a be- lief in the promises of God, and the application of those promises to himself. It is that principle which excites a glow of happiness in the breast of those who live in the performance of their Christian duties; it is the production of that b'pirit which witnesses with our spirit that we are the children of God. To possess this invaluable blessing, we must follow Jesus in the way, and never be weary in well-doing. By calling to mind the mercies we have received at the hands of the Almighty, we shall perceive that the debt of gratitude we owe to heaven, merits the warmest returns of devotion. How often hath our Heavenly Father rescued us from the abyss of distress ! When some beloved member of our family has been afflicted; when we ourselves have been plunged in tribulation, or confined to the bed of sick- ness; and when that tribulation or sickness has been so sore that every door of relief appeared to be closed against us, God has mercifully interposed, restored us to health, changed the desert of our sorrows into a well cultivated field, and made the rock of our affliction to yield us the waters of comfort and joy; when with our hearts we I i2 398 SERMONS. have offered up a prayer expressive of our griefs, that prayer has ascended before the throne of God, and obtained a compassionate hearing ; the angel of mercy has visited us, and the darkness of affliction has been succeeded by a day of serenity and peace. Our minds, in those moments, were no strangers to gratitude; the feelings of our hearts were honourable to us as men and as Christians; and with Bartimeus, we not only experienced the wish, but we nobly resolved to follow Jesus in the way. Let us carry our vir- tuous resolutions, my brethren, into full effect; " Let us pay our vows unto the Lord, in the presence of all his peo- ple: in the courts of the Lord's house, in the midst of Jeru- salem, praise the Lord." Finally; We may gather from the history of Bartimeus the blessings we may expect from an attendance upon the instituted means of grace. Bartimeus was sitting by the highway side, the path in which the Redeemer was jour- neying on his return from Jericho; and while in that situa- tion, the only Physician who was qualified to remove his blindness appeared to his relief, and granted him that boon for which he had sought for years from other sources, and sought in vain. His supplication found its way to the ear of the Redeemer, and vision was imparted to the sufferer. However blind man by nature is to spiritual things, and how- ever insensible to the value of religious reflection and evan- gelical truth, let him attend upon the means of grace, and the stated services of the Church, and he may with pro- priety expect that sooner or later the Redeemer will ap- pear to his relief — remove his blindness — bless him with spiritual vision — give him a new heart — and influence him to follow Jesus in the way of duty. The path of duty, my beloved, is the path of safety; put yourselves, therefore, in the way of his blessing ; adopt the language of Bartimeus — " Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on us !" and while the cry for assistance is burning on your lips, the Lord Jesus will hear your prayer, give you an understanding heart, and render the ways of religion the ways of pleasant- ness, and her paths the paths of peace. SERMON VII I. " The angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush : and he looked, and, behold the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed ; and Moses said, I will now turn aside and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt." — Exodus, iii. 2, 3. When the shepherds were engaged in watching over their flocks, upon the plains of Bethlehem, the Almighty discovered to them the birth of the Lord Jesus Christ : and put them in the possession of those directions, by the light of which they were conducted to his immediate presence. So in the instance before us, Moses was engaged in the same employment, keeping the flock of Jethro and leading them to feed in those places in which the pasture was most luxuriant and abundant. Sometimes indeed an instance occurs, in which Jehovah reveals himself to those who are in open hostility with heaven, and engaged in sin of the most heinous nature. This was the case with Saul of Tarsus; he was arrested by the power of divine grace, at a time in which he was endeavouring to subvert the kingdom of the Redeemer, and to dethrone the precious Lamb of God. But in general, brethren, mortals are more frequently blessed with divine illumination, when occupied in their proper calling ; or when sitting like Bartimeus, by the highway side of the Gospel. What an insignificance does the revelation which God was pleased to make to Moses at Horeb, stamp upon earthly grandeur ! The first forty years of his life were spent at Pharaoh's court, in which he occupied one of the 400 SEBMONS. chief seats in the palace of that monarch, and was distin- guished as a prince ! Still notwithstanding his elevated rank, no particular discoveries of the divine intention with respect to Israel were made to him. They were reserved for a moment, in which he was to fill one of the most hum- ble stations in human life, the shepherd of his father's flock. Retirement, my beloved hearers, is friendly to a commu- nion with God ! It is then that our passions are calm, and we are best prepared to cultivate an acquaintance with the Father of our spirits. At a moment like this, when sur- rounded by the sheep which were feeding near Mount Horeb, God appeared to Moses in a burning bush, and dele- gated him to deliver Israel from the bondage of Egypt, and to conduct them through the wilderness to the promised land. At that period he no doubt expected to have continued in his humble employment until death should have introduced him into the presence of God. Let those, therefore, whose situations are not as elevated as many who perhaps may be less meritorious, rest contented until God shall be pleased to call them to more conspicu- ous stations, and to place them where their usefulness may be more extensively beneficial. In the elucidation of this subject, I shall show you in the first place, what was intended by the burning bush. Secondly, account for the miracle which it exhibited; and then close with some practical inferences. I am therefore to show you, in the first place, what was intended by the burning bush. The state and condition of the afflicted Israelites was no doubt represented under this similitude. — The oppression under which they laboured was very great, and no effort which could conduce to their destruction was left untried by their tyrannic masters. " They made their lives bitter with hard bondage, and all the service wherein they made them to serve, was marked with the most ex- treme rigor and despotism." So far were they from opposing the commands of those to whom they were subject, that they peacefully yielded to all the burthens imposed upon them ; indeed they possessed no more ability to resist their SHRMONS. 401 enemies, than a thorny bush has to resist the action of sur- rounding flames. Still, notwithstanding these things, they were not only preserved, but absolutely increased in num- bers ; for in proportion to the persecutions with which they had to struggle, they multiplied and grew. Again, the Church of God in the world is also represented under the similitude of the burning bush. The Christian Church, at the period of its first establishment, was overwhelmed with the most severe persecutions; the Lord Jesus Christ, its celestial founder, with almost all his family of disciples, suffered death in the promotion of the important cause in which they had embarked : but although the bush was literally in a flame during the time alluded to, it was not consumed. Christianity spread the most when labouring under the greatest oppression. The blood of the Martyrs has ever proved the seed of the Church. They who in the different ages since its establishment have taken counsel against the Lord, and against his anointed, have uniformly found that they have imagined a vain thing; and we are confident in asserting that though all the powers of the world should unite to effect its destruction, they would be foiled in their attempts; "the Lord would laugh them to scorn; Jehovah would hold them in derision." The Almighty has established his Son upon the hill of Zion, and before him every knee shall bow, and unto him shall every tongue confess. Again, — the similitude of the burning bush is expressive of the experience of every true believer. At the first view of the experience of the faithful follower of the Saviour, we might be induced to think that his life would form one continued scene of enjoyment, that no troubles would impede his progress, no calamities mark his life. But when we reflect upon those effects arising from prosperity, and observe the consequences attendant upon an exemption from distress; when we observe that pros- perity attaches man to the world, and renders him forget- ful of his Maker, we then see that affliction is an evidence of the love of God ; a proof that we are not forgotten by our heavenly Father. Yes, when the hand of the Almighty 402 SERMONS. is laid upon the Christian, aud one affliction is permitted to follow on the heel of another — when his earthly comforts are laid waste, — he recognizes in the chastisement a father's hand — and exultingly exclaims, "it is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good !" He finds that every calamity with which he is visited serves to break his hold from the world, and influences him to lay up his treasure in heaven. He perceives that all things beneath the sun are transitory: he therefore sets his affections on things above, and presses onward for the prize of eternal joys. It is also declared in Scripture, and our knowledge of the world assures us of its truth, " that all who will live godly in Christ Jesus, shall suffer persecution." Abandon that path in which the un- godly tread, — enter upon the performance of duties in which they are unwilling to engage, — strive to devote your time and talents exclusively to the service of your master ; lift up your voice against the prevailing vices of the day, and insist upon a conformity to God's laws; tell the world- ling that he cannot serve God and mammon, and that he must become a new creature : — and though your life may be as pure as that of an angel, the world will persecute and afflict you; they will hedge up your way with thorns, and embitter your moments by the most cruel observations. They cannot indeed stone the follower of Jesus to death, nor deprive him of his existence ; but as far as their power extends, so far will their exertions be used to persecute, harrass, and distress you. This was the system of conduct pursued with respect to the Lord Jesus, and if they have persecuted him, they will also, as he has asserted, persecute you. But praised be God, these things excite in the mind of the believer a wish to be more faithful to his trust. The furnace in which he is tried, instead of destroying him, purifies his mind from the dross of his corruptions ; his graces grow in proportion to his sufferings, and he is driven nearer to his God. The bush may be in a blaze, but Jehovah will not permit it to be consumed. Having thus shown you what was intended by the burning bush, I am, second- ly, to account for the miracle which it exhibited. SERMONS. 403 When Moses first beheld the important scene ; when he drew near and looked upon the bush, and perceived that it was neither injured, nor consumed by the fire, his aston- ishment was raised to the highest degree. That astonishment and surprise, however, was soon removed, when he was ad- dressed by the Almighty from the flames which he beheld, and discovered that God himself was in the bush. Some have thought that it was an angel, a created being who appeared to Moses ; others that it was the Saviour, the second person in the adorable Trinity. This latter opin- ion appears to be founded in truth, as Saint Stephen, who in mentioning this solemn event in the seventh chapter of the Acts, has informed us that God sent Moses by the hand of the angel. This angel then must have been the Lord Jesus, who has said " I and my Father are one," and who proclaimed to Moses that it was the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, who addressed him. No created being could have presumed to assume these solemn titles. It would have been the most daring blas- phemy for any creature, however elevated in the scale of existence, to have called himself Jehovah. It must there- fore have been the angel of the covenant; that Divine Being who, in all the appearances of God to man, assumed the human or angelic shape; thus by preparing the world for the fuller manifestation of himself, in his incarnate and mediatorial state. It was the presence of the Saviour with the Israelites, which prevented their destruction ! He was in the bush, and therefore the bush was not consumed ! Christ was certainly with the Israelites before he became incarnate, and took our flesh upon him, protecting them from danger and strengthening them under their complicated difficul- ties. The rock in the wilderness, which furnished the famishing tribes with water, was a type of Christ ; for " they drank of that rock which followed them, and that rock was Christ." It is to be presumed that they were not permitted to address their complaints to Pharaoh, however severe the treatment which they received from their task-masters. 404 SERMONS. Scarcely could one sufferer venture to express his distresses to another, lest the accents of his grief should have arrested the notice of his keepers and procured for him an increase of difficulty. But observe the goodness of God. Their silent prayers were heard by him who reigns in heaven ! The sufferings of an afflicted people ascended before the throne of God, and claimed the attention of Jehovah. " I have heard their cry by reason of their task-masters, I know their sorrows, and am come to deliver them." After their escape from Egypt, the Saviour was with them in the pillar of a cloud ; in that he dwelt, not for a short time, as in the bush, but for forty years. This cloud was brighter and more refulgent by night than in the day, for during the absence of the sun it had the appearance of a flaming fire. This was their guide in pathless deserts, through which they had to pass ; whenever it moved, the hosts of Israel struck their tents and marched forward ; and the moment it halted, they again formed their camp and went to rest. How true is it, that " the Lord will create upon every dwelling-place of mount Zion, and upon all her assemblies, a cloud of smoke by day, and the shining of a flaming fire by night; for upon all the glory shall be a defence !" The Saviour was also with them at the Red Sea, fur- nishing them with a safe passage through its bosom, and overwhelming Pharaoh and his hosts in the returning wa- ters ! It is the same presence which preserves the Church, and every individual member of which it is composed. The Saviour assured his disciples that he would accompany them in the discharge of their ministerial duties, without the least intermission of his care. " Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the world." I am with you to bear you up in the arms of my love, that you may be unwearied in well-doing. 1 am with you to give success to your labours, and to accompany your preaching with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power, to make it effec- tual to the pulling down the strong holds of Satan, and of building up believers in the faith of the Gospel ! I am SERMONS. 405 with you upon the Sabbath, to render my word a savour of life unto life ; and I am with you at the beds of the sick and of the dying, to seal your admonitions and to sanctify your prayers. " I am with you always /" I may hide myself for a moment, but I will never be ab- sent from you to the end of the world. It is thus that Jesus, by his presence in the bush, secures it from destruc- tion ; and it is by this means that " the gates of hell shall never prevail against it." Yes, brethren, and he dwells also in the hearts of all his faithful people ; he is their life, and whatsoever they do of a nature acceptable to God, it is done through the influence of divine grace, so that the believer may say with Paul, " I Hve, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me." It is from the assurance of his pre- sence, that we are encouraged to press forward through every difficulty, and are told, that when we pass through the waters he will be with us, and that when we go through the fire we shall not be burned, neither shall the flame kindle upon us ; for " God is in the midst of her, she shall not be moved; God shall help her, and that right early." Having attended to the two propositions of my discourse I am to close with some practical inferences. When Moses beheld the miracle of the burning bush, he said, " I will now turn aside and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt." Let us imitate his example, and with the profound- est reverence draw near and attend to the instruction which it aflbrds. First, you may perceive in it the great affection which the Saviour bears to his Church. Are the faithful minis- ters of the Lord Jesus sometimes discouraged, in conse- quence of the trials with which they meet? Let them recollect, that it is through much tribulation they are to enter into the kingdom of heaven. All who have obtained the approbation of the Almighty, have passed the same way, and have found the crown of life closely connected with the cross. Let them be faithful unto death, and they will be received with " Well done, good and faithful ser- vants." K K 406 SERMOKS. Observe, secondly, the affection of the Saviour to his members. When labouring under distress, we are some- times tempted to think that the Lord hath absented him- self forever, and that Jehovah hath forgotten to be gra- cious! Remember, in such an hour of trial, that the Lord is at hand, and that it is the weakness of our faith which obscures our view of his presence. Never was the Almighty more sensibly present with the three faithful He- brews, than when they were committed by their enemies to the flames. He was with them in the furnace, and preserved them unhurt in the midst of the devouring fire ! The bush was in a blaze, yet it escaped without injury. Never was the blessed Jesus more beloved by his Father, than in the moment in which he was on his knees in Gethsemane, sweating, as it were, great drops of blood, and crying out in agony of spirit, " My God, why hast thou forsaken me ?" " Trust, then," I entreat you, " in the Lord forever, for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength." Finally ; reflect for a moment upon the different situa- tion of those who love God, and of those who live in dis- obedience to his laws. To those who have bowed them- selves before the sceptre of divine love, Jehovah will be as a wall of fire, to protect and shield them from every evil; for " I will be unto Jerusalem, saith the Lord, a wall of fire round about, and will be the glory in the midst of her." Not only a hedge, such as he raised around Job ; not only walls and bulwarks, which may be battered down and destroyed ; not only a mountain, which may be gotten over; but he will be a wall of fire, which can neither be broken through nor undermined ; a wall which cannot be approached without danger to an assailant; and God him- self will be that wall, not only on one side, but round about on every side. To those who refuse to submit to his right- eous authority, and will not have the Almighty to rule over them, our God will prove a consuming fire, for " the wicked shall be turned into hell," " where the worm dieth not, and the fire never shall be quenched." Seek then, I beseech you, " the good-will of him who dwelt in the EEBMOMS. 407 bush," and though the heavens shall be rolled up like a scroll, and the elements melt with fervent heat, you will be secure amidst the general conflagration, and be advanced to that region of happiness where sorrow and sighing find no admission, and where every tear shall be wiped from your eyes. SERMON IX •' He hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised." — St. Luke, iv. 18. When we seriously and attentively reflect upon those benevolent principles which constitute the Christian dis- pensation, in how amiable and commanding a light does the gospel of Christ Jesus appear. The Almighty, instead of pouring upon a guilty world the vials of his wrath ; instead of arising in awful majesty to take vengeance upon the disobedient, he appears to our view in the attractive tender- ness of a parent, commiserating our blindness and per- verseness, and providing a remedy for our relief. By him an immaculate lamb hath been prepared to make an atone- ment for transgression, in whom " mercy and truth have met together, righteousness and peace have kissed each other." Animated with the glowing subject of redemption, the inspired prophets struck the lyre of celestial joy. When proclaiming to a ruined world the appearance of the Son of God, they represent him as the Saviour of the penitent ; the friend of the distressed ; the phy- sician of the sin-sick soul. To secure the confidence of mankind in his ivisdom, and to call their attention to those dispositions of mercy which would mark his life, they represent him as " a wonderful counsellor," " the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace." They speak of him as the light of the world; that Being 8EBM0NS. 409 through whose sacred influences the wilderness of the world should be divested of its moral darkness, and the desert of the human mind be made to blossom as the rose. " Be- hold," says Isaiah, " my servant, whom I uphold, mine elect, in whom my soul delighteth ; a bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he not quench." " He shall feed his flock like a shepherd, he shall gather the lambs with his arms, and carry them in his bosom." "I will bring the blind by a way which they knew not, I will lead them in paths which they have not known." (Jere- miah, also, animated with the same sensations, thus intro- duces the Saviour to our view : " Behold the days come, saith the Lord, that I will raise unto David a righteous branch, and a king shall reign and prosper, and shall exe- cute judgment and justice in the earth. In his day Judah shall be saved, and Israel shall dwell safely, and this is his name whereby he shall be called. The Lord our righteous- ness.) In perfect agreement with the language of prophecy, Jesus, the Ptedeemer, descended from the courts of heaven to preach peace on earth and good will to men. To emanci- pate our ruined race from the dominion of sin and hell form- ed the object of his mission. To open a way for our escape from the ruin of the fall, and to conduct us to glory, he took our nature upon him ; he atoned for our transgression by an offering of his own body on the cross, and irradiated the world with the light of divine instruction. Yes, with the language of reconciliation upon his lips, the messenger of the covenant of grace and mercy appeared : — " He hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and the recovery of sight to the blind." At such a declaration of mercy the heart of man should dilate with gratitude, and in a burst of joy should welcome his^approach. "Amen, even so, come Lord Jesus. Bless- ing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb forever." That truths of the most important nature are contained in the specific declarations of the text, must appear evi- dent to all who are disposed to reflect. That there are kk2 410 SERMONS. certain situations in which nman may be involved, to which those declarations are peculiarly appropriate, is a self-evi- dent truth; a truth known to all who are acquainted with the divine life, and who have experienced the exercises of mind to which they immediately refer. I shall, therefore, endeavour, with that aid which I shall derive from the sacred writings, to explain each particular feature of my subject ; and may God, in infinite mercy, sanctify it to us all, and ren- der it conducive to the comfort of the sincere inquirer. " He hath sent me to heal the broken hearted." It fre- quently occurs that the human mind, when first convinced of sin, becomes so oppressed with a sense of personal trans- gression (and in the expression of personal transgression I include the omission of our duty to God) that all the as- surances of mercy with which the page of revelation abounds, fail in communicating that relief which they are intended to convey. The soul, under such circumstances, becomes exceeding sorrowful : involving the individual sometimes in the most extreme distress. As the convinced sinner knows that he hath offended God, and as God has declared himself the avenger of sin, his mind becomes tremblingly alive to his situation, and his distress bows him to the earth. It was this part of religious experience to which David alludes in the fifty-first Psalm, in which he speaks of a brohen and a contrite heart. From the gene- ral tenor of that portion of sacred writ, it is evident that the light of the divine countenance was withdrawn from the mind of the Psalmist, and that he was involved in the deepest darkness. "I acknowledge my transgression," said the royal sufferer, " and my sin is ever before me." It is recorded of Philip, the renowned king of Macedon, that in order to prevent the victories he had achieved from inspi- ring his mind with pride, he commanded his page to address him every morning with this salutation, " Philip, remember thou art a man." In the same way, when the Spirit of God exercises its power upon the soul, that power evidences its existence and presence, by giving the individual who feels its influence, a humiliating view of himself, and by SERMONS. 411 proclaiming, in a voice that will be heard, man — woman — remember thou art a sinner. It is thought, by the world, that to speak of the conviction of sin, is an evidence of men- tal weakness ; a principle unknown to any but to the poor and illiterate. David, it must be acknowledged, was a great man, elevated not only in rank, but also in the powers of his understanding. His conscience, however, was placed in his bosom for the same purposes for which it is placed in the bosoms of the poorest individual, and, when it ascend- ed its throne, asserted its rights, and condemned him for his sin, and produced in his mind the most humiliating view of himself. " I acknowledge my transgression, and my sin is ever before me." Jehovah, remember, has but one mode of procedure with mankind. The law of repentance is equally binding upon all ; the rich and the poor must in that particular meet to- gether, for " except we repent, we must all likewise perish." David, therefore, humbled himself before God; he descended from his chair of state, and took that place which became him as an offender against heaven, — the place and posture of a penitent. That his distress of mind was great, is evident from the language of his prayer, " Cast me not away from thy presence, and take not thy Holy Spirit from me;" " make me to hear of joy and glad- ness, that the bones which thou hast broken may rejoice;" " restore unto me the joy of thy salvation, and uphold me with thy free Spirit." " Thou desirest not sacrifice, else would I give it thee; the sacrifice of God is a broken spirit : a broken and contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise." Similar, brethren, were the exercises of the Phillippian jailor ; who, in his distress of mind, sought instruction at the lips of Paul. '* What shall I do to be saved ?" Observe the urgency of his inquiry; he came trembling to the apostle; his heart condemned him, and as he knew that the knowl- ledge which Jehovah had of his sins was more accurate than his own, his fears were excited, and he sought a remedy for the evil under which he laboured. He felt con- 412 SEHMONS. vinced that something must be done, and done immediately. The concerns of eternity rested upon his mind, and awa- kened his attention. He did not ask what may be done for me, but his inquiry was, what shall I do ? " Sirs, what must I do to be saved?" Though sensations of distress and alarm are permitted to exercise their influence for a season, yet we shall find, from the effects which they produce, in weaning us from sin and attaching us to our duty, that they are the evidences of divine love. '' Sorrow endureth for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." The alarms of the awakened sinner will be removed, the doubts under which he laboured respecting his acceptance with God will sub- side. By attending to the assurances of mercy to the penitent, he will reap that comfort of which they are so full. " Come unto me all ye who labour and are heavy laden," will inspire his heart with confidence. " Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted," will kindle in his bosom the sincerest joy. " He hath sent me to heal the broken hearted," will dispel his doubts, restore him to peace, and tranquilize his mind. I would not be understood to say, that the conviction of sin must in all cases be as great as David experienced. But thus much, brethren, I will afiirm, that as we have all offended God, and withheld from him that homage to which he is entitled : that as we have permitted the world and its delusive pleasures to hold the chief place in our affec- tions; that as we have profaned his name, violated his Sabbaths, forgotten our obligations of gratitude, and resisted the strivings of his Spirit ; that as we have fallen into those sins, we must be convinced oi our errors, and pained at the recollection of them, before we will be disposed to re- pent, and to seek the pardon and forgiveness of offended heaven. The persuasion of our ingratitude to God will ex- cite such an alarm for our future safety, and give rise to such distressing sensations in our minds, that we shall rejoice to hear that the " Lord Jesus came to heal the broken- hearted." The mind of man is not only subjected to that anxiety SERHOIVS. 413 arising from the tumult of an awakened conscience, but temporal distress is also permitted to assail him ; and it is in the season of trouble that the Christian derives the most solid comfort from the promises of religion, and finds the Redeemer precious to his soul. At those periods in which he is labouring under the pressure of the deepest distress; when the winds of tribulation, and the waters of adversity are sapping the foundation of his temporal comforts, and prostrating in the dust the objects of his regard ; when the friend of his bosom is snatched from his embrace ; when the children of his affection are torn from his arms, and the thunders of distress are rolling over his head ; when in agony of mind he cries aloud, " hath God forgotten to be gracious, is his mercy clean gone forever?" — it is then that the Saviour steps in to his relief, and by the application of his word, hushes into a calm the tempest of his grief: "It is I, thy Redeemer, be not afraid:" " Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb ? Yea, they may forget, yet will I never forget thee." Encouraged by the promises, he an- ticipates the period when he shall see them again in glory, and meet them in that happy region where every tear will be wiped from his eye. Under the influence of such con- soling reflections his distresses are appeased; he trims his lamp; he presses with increased ardour toward the mark; he sets his affections on things above ; he concludes with Paul that " the sufferings of this present life are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed ;'" he believes that all things shall work together for his good; and that distress itself, by weaning him from the world, will fit him for the enjoyment of heaven. It is by virtue of this hope ; a hope which he would not exchange for worlds — a hope emanating from the Gospel, that the Saviour speaks peace to his mind, and " heals the broken-hearted." That the conduct of the Redeemer was marked with the strongest features of benevolence, every miracle that he wrought forms a conclusive testimony. An ostentatious display of his divine authority was in no instance made; it 414 SERMONS. was to relieve the distressed, and to comfort the mournerj that the order of nature was reversed, and that his omni- potence was discovered. Witness his sympathy and affec- tion at the grave of Lazarus ; see the tear of sensibility roiling down his cheek, even at the moment in which he summoned him from the grave, and restored him to his disconsolate sisters ; behold him stopping the procession of the widow's only son, reanimating with his word the life- less clay, and speaking into silence a mother's pangs; and you will be convinced that he came to " heal the broken- hearted." The words of our text inform us that the Redeemer is not only possessed of power to calm the distresses of the human heart, but that he came to break the bonds of our corruptions, and to rescue the penitent from the oppressive arm of sin and Satan: " He came to preach deliverance to the captives." Man is spoken of in the Old Testament as a fallen crea- ture, with " the thoughts of his heart only evil continually," and by St. Paul as being " carnally minded," at " enmity with God." However humiliating the consideration of hu- man depravity; however opposed the pride of mortals may be to the fact, still as it is a principle revealed in the word of God, and confirmed by daily observation, it is impossible to refuse it a place in our minds. Although man may ac- knowledge the propriety and beauty of virtue; although he may approve things that are excellent, and venerate and respect those who are obedient to the divine com- mands; yet we find, brethren, that his practice, until he is renewed by the Holy Spirit, is opposed to the conviction of his understanding, and his life at variance with the pre- cepts of holiness. His compliance, therefore, with the sin- ful propensities of his nature, is a conclusive proof that he is in bondage to Satan, for " to whom (says the Apostle,) ye yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants ye are to whom ye obey." To emancipate man from this awful servitude; to break those fetters with which he is bound, and to set the prisoner at liberty, did the Lord Jesus de- SERMONS. 415 scend from heaven ; *' he came to preach deliverncce to the captives ;" to show them the source from which to ob- tain every necessary assistance; to furnish them with that divine armour which will shield them from those fiery darts, the temptations of the devil ; to invest them with power to subdue their sinful passions, and to make them more than conquerors through his grace. How often hath it happened in the life of every Chris- ' tian, that prior to his conviction of the weakness of his moral powers, he determined to abandon every improper pursuit, andjtoconform his life to the precepts of virtue. But as his resolutions were founded upon his own strength, they evaporated into air, and were productive of no lasting, no effectual change in his habits; after relapsing into the com- mission of sin, he has resolved again and again, to correct his errors, and to order his conversation aright ; but how- ever sincere his intentions, he has uniformly discovered that upon a recurrence of temptation, he has yielded to the suggestions of Satan, violated his solemn vows, and stamped impotency upon his best determinations. The knowledge and experience of his weakness, a knowledge derived from the influence of grace upon his heart, taught him at last the useful lesson of humility. Perceiving from those frequent deviations from virtue which marked his life, that provided he wished to persevere in holiness, he must obtain assistance superior to any he had hitherto possessed, he consulted the oracles of God, and found that the Redeemer declared " Without me ye can do nothing ; as the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abide in the vine, no more can ye except ye abide in me." Possessed of this information, he no longer trusted in his own strength, the broken reed of his own moral powers, but repaired to the only fountain from which every good and perfect gift proceedeth. In ardent supplication he looked up to heaven for assistance. " Teach me to do thy will, for thou art my God." " Lead me forth in thy truth and guide me, thou who art the God of my salvation." " My soul cleaveth to the dust, quicken thou me, O Lord, 416 SERMONS. according to thy word." The compassionate Jesus, true to his promises, listened to his prayer; he invigorated his mind by his grace,|and nerved the suppliant's arm. His progress then became comparatively easy; every step that he ad- vanced in the divine life, produced an increase of happi- ness. His soul became more and more athirst for God ; " for- getting those things which were behind," not satisfied with past attainments, "he pressed forward toward the mark for the prize of his calling of God in Christ Jesus." The powers of temptation become more and more languid, and agreea- bly to the language of the Psalmist, " the snare was broken, and he was delivered." As our rel ief from sin can only be found in the Lord Jesus Christ ; as " there is no other name under heaven, whereby we can be saved ;" *' as the wages of sin is death," and as a life of transgression must eventuate in the ruin of the soul, let us fly upon the wings of penitence to that Being who came to preach deliverance to the captives. Say not, I beseech you, that some future day will answer the pur- poses of reformation; the present time is all that we can call our own. " Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth." Do you re- quire an instance of an individual who was liberated from the bondage alluded to, to confirm your hopes, and to ani- mate you in the struggle, look at Paul; he felt all the weakness that we can possibly feel, and under its influence exclaimed, "Who shall shall deliver me from the body of this death ? Thank God, through Jesus Christ our Lord !" To me, " to live is Christ, and to die is gain." *' I can do all things through Christ, who strengtheneth me." The text informs us that the oflice of the Saviour was not confined to the duties of healing the broken heart- ed, and preaching deliverance to the captives, but also to give the recovery of sight to the blind. That the Gentile world was involved in the grossest darkness, with respect to the nature and attributes of Deity, at the time of the advent of the JVIessiah, is a truth known to all conversant with profane history, and that the Gospel SERMONS. 417 has afforded us the clearest light upon the subject, every in- genuous mind must acknowledge. The boasted wisdom of many of the ancient Philosophers, proves to us the limited faculties of man; and shows us how dependent we are upon religion for every information connected with the divine character. Consult the school of Aristotle, and you will find, that so far from acknowledging God as the creator of all things, they maintained that the world was from eternity, and that every thing was what it now is. Listen to the school of Epicurus, and they will tell you that the universe was formed by a fortuitous concourse of atoms, which accident- ally assumed the present form. Go into the cit)^ of Athens and see the blindness of that people at l!ie period in which the Redeemer appeared. With all the aids they could ob- tain from human research, at Athens, a place considered as the empire of light, the monopoly of wisdom, behold them worshipping an unknown god; erecting altars to imaginary deities, and prostrating themselves at the feet of senseless idols. Christ Jesus came to give recovery of sight to the blind ; to unveil to the view of man the great Eternal; to teach him the true philosophy; — " him, whom ye ignorant- ly worship," said the Apostle, " declare we unto you," The declaration of the text, however, is not confined to blindness of that description; it embraces the case of those who close their eyes against the light of the Gospel — who would rush naked and defenceless into the presence of that God who out of Christ is a consuming fire ; who would trust to the mercy of heaven, when that mercy is at variance with the attribute of divine justice ; who will not accept of the oflfers of salvation upon Gospel terms; who deny that Being '^ who was made sin for us, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him;" who defer that pursuit of happiness until to-morrow, which should be commenced to- dav; who resist the pleadings of divine grace, and set omni- potence at defiance. Such, beloved, is the case of the of- fender against God, and such was the situation of Paul himself; he saw no comeliness in the Saviour that he should L L 418 SERMONS. desire him; he trusted to his own righteousness; he expected that his own imperfect morality would secure the salva- tion of his soul ; he was unwilling to submit to the empire of Jesus, or to be saved by his blood. But God who is rich in mercy, pitied his infatuation, and rescued him from des- truction ; his eyes were opened by the Spirit of God ; the rays of redeeming love were reflected upon his mind, and the man who was engaged in levelling to the earth the system of Christianity, laid down the weapons of his rebel- lion at the foot of Calvary ; embarked in the cause of the Gospel; "proclaimed among the Gentiles the unsearcha- ble riches of Christ, opening their eyes and turning them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God." To conclude. "He came to heal the broken hearted." Should any of you belabouring under a conviction of sin should your minds be oppressed with sorrow at the recol- lection of your ingratitude to God; take comfort, I beseech you from the existence of that sorrow in your hearts, and fly in supplication to that Saviour who died for your salva- tion. It is through the influences of his Spirit that you have been brought to reflect ; it is through the light of divine grace that you see your unworthiness, and that you feel weary and heavy laden. Christ thus forms the source of your relief, the present and eternal refuge of his people. Mourner in Zion, be at rest, for " blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted." The knowledge you possess of your unworthiness, is the greatest blessing God could have bestowed upon you ; it has made you feel the value of the Saviour, and has led you to a throne of grace for mercy. Should any of you be convinced that you have been led captive by Satan; that you have listened to his temptations; that you have turned your backs upon God, and resisted the pleadings of his grace; that you have pre- ferred the world to the duties of religion, fly to him who is mighty to save. Christ Jesus will deliver you from the tyranny of sin, and rescue you from the oppressive power SERMONS. 419 of Satan. " He came to preach deliverance to the cap- tive." Should any of you be labouring under spiritual blindness, ignorant of the plan of redemption ; should any of you wish to be instructed in the truths of Christianity ; anxious to know the manner in which Jehovah can be just, and yet the justifier of him against whom the violated law of God pronounces destruction, fly to Jesus Christ and entreat for divine illumination ; cry aloud, " Lord that I may receive my sight," and that Saviour who came to give recovery of sight to the blind, will hear your prayer and enable you to comprehend the plan of salvation, and see its perfect adaptation to the situation of all mankind. Beloved, in the Redeemer there is salvation for all who will seek it in sincerity of heart; his blood will cleanse the most polluted, and render the vilest offender pure in the sight of God. ''Seek him then while he maybe found, call upon him while he is near," and you will discover that he is able and willing to save all men to the uttermost, who come unto God by him ; seeing he ever liveth to make in- tercession for them — he will aflford you present comfort, and after death receive you into glory. SERMON X. " God be merciful to me a sinner." — Luke, xviii. 13. Humility of heart is an unfailing attendant upon the religion of the Redeemer: it is the first effect produced in the mind by divine grace, and forms the best evidence we can give the world of our acquaintance with God and with ourselves. A self-justifying spirit flows not from the fountain of the Gospel : it is the offspring of human pride, the enemy of true religion. That person who really knows himself, and is thoroughly acquainted with his own heart, must be sensible that his imperfections are very numerous; and that his personal virtues fall so short of the purity of the Gospel, and the requisitions of the divine law, that he is indebted to the mercy of God for the continuance of his existence, and his escape from destruction. Under a conviction of his own unworthiness, the sincere Christian always approaches the footstool of the Almighty; his own infirmities claim his continual attention ; they en- gross so much of his thoughts, they appear so magnified to his view, that instead of condemning others, he thinks him- self the least of all the saints, and pleads for forgiveness through the precious blood of Christ. Like the Centurion mentioned in the Gospel, he exclaims, " Lord I am not worthy thou shouldestcome under my roof; speak the word only, and I shall be healed." SERMONS. 421 The farther that we advance in the divine hfe, the more do we become estabhshedin the principle of humility. The nearer that we approach the Almighty, and the more we study his perft!ctions, the more sensible do we become to our own failing;-; the closer we draw to the light the more visible are our imperfections : our growth therefore in grace is always attended with an increase of humility. We compare our lives with the precepts of Scripture, and find them so deficient that the inquiry produces a lowli- ness of heart ; we discover that we have no ground for boasting, but that we are really sinners and need cleansing in the blood of Christ. That this view is correct, is fully illustrated in the para- ble before us; and as the representation was made by the Saviour himself, no one can doubt that the doctrine it con- tains is agreeable to the nature and attributes of God him- self; purposely intended to check the advances of a self- righteous spirit, and to countenance and support the con- victed sinner in his humble approaches to a throne of grace. It shows the trembling penitent that, notwithstanding that pressure of sin which rests upon his conscience, notwith- standing that dread of Deity with which his mind is op- pressed, and which renders him afraid to raise his eye to heaven, still the devout breathings of his broken heart will not be disregarded, nor the sighing of a contrite mind be overlooked; but before he calls, God will answer — while he is speaking God will hear, have mercy ; pardon and forgive him. In order to improve the subject, and to represent some of its beauties to your view, permit me to carry your atten- tion to the sacred Temple. "Two men went up to the Temple to pray; one a Pharisee, the other a Publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself; God I thank tiiee that I am not as other men are; extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this Publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess." In all this Pharasaic harangue, there is not one essentia ll2 432 SERMONS. feature of prayer, not a sin is confessed, not a supplication for pardon made. His breast was so inflated with a con- ceit of personal merit, that he forgot the business for which the sanctuary of Jehovah is intended, and set apart. He came to the temple to pray; but instead of supplicating for forgiveness, he pronounced an eulogium on himself; a pompous declaration of performances, and of an exemption from gross offences, composed his devotion. He was so pleased with himself, that he fell in adoration at the shrine of his own excellencies ; and instead of worshipping God in the humble accents of a disobedient child, he plead the merit of ^his own ideal purity ; " I fast twice in the week, 1 give tithes of all that I possess." So delighted was he with the repetition of his own negative and ceremonial per- fections, that when he beheld the Publican he looked upon him with contempt; "God I thank thee that I am not as this Publican." Is this, I would ask, is this devotion ? Could such con- duct become a frail mortal, when approaching a Being in whose sight the heavens are unclean 1 Was such a temper becoming a sinner, when appearing in the presence of a God of holiness ? The Pharisee, we acknowledge, was to be commended for that uniformity to the moral duties of the law which he possessed. We rejoice at that abstrac- tion from criminal pursuits of which he spake; but was fasting twice in the week to be plead as an atonement for his sins I Was his giving of tithes to be offered to the Al- mighty as an apology for his transgressions 1 Brethren, there is no devotion, there is no devotion acceptable to God, which does not embrace a conviction of our own de- fects; a deep penitence for sin ; a renunciation of self; a dependence upon unmerited mercy. From a scene abounding with such arrogance and incon- sistency, let us turn our attention to the poor convicted Publican, and learn a lesson of instruction from his reve- rential, his appropriate conduct. " The Publican, standing afar off, would not lift up his eyes to heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner." How SERMONS. 423 descriptive is this representation of the feelings of every true penitent ! Drawn by the pencil of the Ptedeemer, it pourtrays in glowing colours the ardent and tunnultuoua breathings of a contrite heart. He stood afar off: con- vinced of his own unworthiness, he was afraid to approach too near, lest the altar of the Most High God should have been polluted by his presence. Like the inquirer spoken of by Micah, he was anxious to throw himself at the feet of his Maker, and to solicit pardon at the hands of his offended Judge ; but the knowledge of his unworthiness arrested him at the door of the sanctuary, and threw him into confusion : " Wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before the High God ? will the Lord be pleased with thou- sands of rams, or with ten thousand of rivers of oil ? shall I give my first born for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul ?' Humbled under the conviction of his offences, with his heart bleeding at every pore, the Pharisee should have step- ped forward to sustain the fainting spirit of the Publican, and to hold up to his distracted and distressed mind the promises of religion. Was there no other feature in the conduct of the Pharisee to convince us that his heart had never been softened by divine grace, his want of feeling for his distressed fellow-mortal is conclusive proof against him. The Pharisee saw him, but instead of taking him by the hand and encourag- ing his hopes, he looked upon him with contempt and abhor- rence: "Stand by thyself, for I am holier than thou:" "God, I thank thee that I am not as this Publican." Had an angel at that moment descended from the courts of bliss, that angel would have shown the Pharisee his mis- take; he would have stripped the veil from the deluded mortal's eyes, and rebuked him for his boldness; he would have said, Proud mortal, thou art mistaken in thy views; yon dejected Publican, sinful as he acknowl- edges himself to be, is nearer to the throne of mercy than thyself.' While thou art trusting that thou art righteous, placing thy confidence upon the performance of a few in- considerable duties, paying tithes of mint, anise and cum- min, and neglecting the weightier matter of the law, the 424 SERMONS. Publican is humbled before God, and intreating for mercy; self-abased, however, as he is, he shall return to his dwell- ing, rejoicing in the God of his salvation. His plea for pardon cannot be rejected as long as it is written, " Look unto me, and be ye saved." " God be merciful to me a sin- ner," forms a prayer more melodious in the ears of Jehovah, than ten thousand repetitions of " God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are." '*There is joy among the angels of God over every sinner that repenteth," and that joy is now felt by those around the throne. Angels are now chanting hallelujahs at the escape of the poor penitent from condemnation, his deliverance from the power of the destroyer. His prayer, my beloved, was heard ; his fears were quieted; his conscience felt repose: " He went down to his house justified rather than the other ;" " He humbled himself and was exalted." We do not discover from the parable that the Publican was sensible of the presence of the Pharisee ; his own neces- sities engrossed so much of his attention, that every other consideration was overlooked. Had he observed the Pharisee, no upbraidings, no painful comparisons would have escaped his lips; instead of casting a reflection upon his fellow-mortal, he would have embraced him in his arms, offered up a petition in his behalf, and earnestly have plead for the salvation of his soul. We perceive in the Gospels that the Redeemer laboured to suppress that spirit of self-dependence, so conspicuous in the Pharisees; to substitute in its place a spirit of peni- tence and contrition, and to countenance and comfort the contrite transgressor. The disapprobation he has expressed with respect to the self-righteous, and the woes he has pronounced upon them, should guard us against the ad- vancing of a spirit teeming with such fatal consequences, and teach us to trust to the atonement alone for salvation. In the affecting parable of the Prodigal, the Saviour struck at the same destructive principle; he represents to our view the return of a penitent transgressor to the bosom of an indulgent parent. To be restored to that seat of dig- nity he had vacated, he did not expect ; conscious of hav- SERMONS. 425 ing offended a parent from whom he had received the most distinguished kindness, he addressed him in these words : " Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight, and am unworthy to be called thy son ; make me as one of thy hired servants." It is the delight of a God of mercy to forgive transgression. The prodigal obtained an evi- dence of his acceptance ; he was clothed in a new robe ; his sins were pardoned, and he was established in the affec- tion of his father. In the conduct of the elder brother, the Saviour describes the repulsive, selfish, cold-hearted disposition of the Phari- sees. Instead of receiving his penitent brother with affec- tion; instead of imparting comfort to a mind deeply wound- ed with a knowledge of transgression, he was displeased at the indulgence of the father, censured him for such an ex- tension of his mercy, and pleads his own exclusive claims to his favour : " Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment; and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends; but as soon as this thy son is come, who hath de- voured his living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf" Can Christians, who know their own deficiencies, approve of such unfeeling conduct 1 Was the Lord extreme to mark iniquity, where would the holiest professor stand ? I appeal to all your hearts, if the Almighty was to call the most perfect saint existing to a strict account for all his actions, if there was not a mercy seat to which we could fly for shelter, to what distress should we be subjected 1 What awful horrors would await us? When, therefore, we enter the temple of the living God, let us remember that it is a house of prayer; let us recollect that we are all sinners; and when assembled in this sanctuary, instead of charg- ing guilt upon those who are around us, let us examine our- selves, and let us devote our time to the confession of our sins, and to the most ardent supplication for forgiveness. Again ; Before mortals are brought to a state of serious reflection, they seldom think of their past transgressions, or 426 SERMONS. possess a desire to ask for forgiveness ; but when the mind becomes convinced of sin; when, in addition to the knowl- edge of sin, the fear of consequences takes possession of our bosoms, we immediately fly to the sacred oracles for instruc- tion and comfort ; anxious to know the extent of the di- vine mercy, we explore with avidity the page of Revela- tion. In ihose oracles — oracles so lightly esteemed by the thoughtless — we are comforted with the assurance that the Almighty delights not in the death of a sinner, and that the door of mercy is open to every applicant. We there perceive that the Lord Jesus tasted death for every man ; that he is the propitiation and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world ; and that whoever perishes, perishes be- cause of his own perverseness. We there perceive that the blood of Christ possesses sufficient efficacy to remove the guilt of every transgression ; and that " although the sins of the penitent have been like scarlet, they shall be white as snow : though red like crimson, they shall be as wool." It is not past transgression which can separate the convicted penitent from the reach of mercy; the for- giveness of God is as fathomless as the ocean, and as un- bounded in its nature. It is the want of humility of heart, the want of genuine penitence alone, which can prevent the restoration of the sinner to the favour of God. The publican, for aught we know, had never before pre- sented himself in the temple; he had lived, perhaps, to- tally unmindful of God, or of his own responsibility ; still the moment he advanced in humility, and plead for mercy, his plea was heard, and he obtained the object of his sup- plication. The terms of the covenant of grace, consist in '* repentance toward God and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ." The moment in which the penitent complies with those principles, that instant his request will be granted, and he will stand justified and acquitted before God. Study the Sacred Volume, and you will find that the Saviour is spoken of as the Saviour of sinners. " I came not," said he, " to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance." " The Son of Man came to seek and to save that which was lost." SERMONS. 427 *' This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners." Various are the instances in which the aid of the Re- deemer was solicited during his earthly ministry, and in no one case was the applicant dismissed without a blessing. To Mary he said, " thy sins, which are many, are for- given thee, go in peace ;" and to the poor malefactor, he breathed the same tenderness and compassion, " This day shalt thou be with me in paradise." The Saviour was not influenced by what men would say in justification of themselves ; he looked at the hearts of those who sought his favour, and, when he perceived them filled with humility, he assisted and relieved them. The Pharisees, who fancied themselves possessed of every vir- tue, and who trusted to their own righteousness, uniformly met with his disapprobation. They who despised others, went empty away from the presence of Jesus, while hum- ble penitents were filled with the evidences of his love and compassion. If we wish to obtain access to the throne of heaven, let us advance before that throne in humility ; ap- pear before God in our genuine character, which is that of poor offenders. Let not a spirit of contempt for others enter into our minds, but, filled with a conscious knowledge of our own personal demerit, let us come to the Pool of Si- loam, and wash and be clean. Is there an individual, possessed of the spirit of the pub- lican, in the presence of the living God this morning ? Is there an individual, whose heart is bleeding under the con- viction of sin ? who dare not lift up his eyes to heaven, and whose cry is, "God be merciful to me a sinner?" I would say to such an individual, banish thy fears, thy supplica- tion will be heard. " Heaven and earth shall pass away, but the promises of God," to a sincere inquirer, " cannot pass away." " Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted." Never do we stand higher in the divine estimation, than when we are lowly in our own eyes. Never are we so much in the way of exaltation, as when 428 SERMONS. humbled before God under a feeling sense of our own un- worthiness. The character of the Pharisee is sometimes applied by the world to those whose delight it is to follow Jesus in the way, who separate themselves from every pursuit inconsis- tent with their profession, and who endeavour to walk in the commandments and ordinances of the Lord. This charge, my beloved, cannot be just, as every true Chris- tian in his daily devotions, instead of trusting to his own righteousness, acknowledges himself a sinner; and as a sin- ner he supplicates God for pardon. The Pharisee, who is embraced in our text, trusted in himself that he was righteous : recapitulated, in the pre- sence of Jehovah, the peculiar features of his character; plead his conformity to the law ; justified himself, and re- lied upon his own performancesfor the salvation of his soul. He thought himself prepared for heaven by virtue of his own works ; he felt no need of a Saviour ; wished for no interest in the atonement ; there was neither confession of sin, nor supplication for pardon, in his address. Until a man can plead a uniform obedience to the moral law ; until he can say with truth, that he has never vio- lated its injunctions, a dependence upon his own righteous- ness would certainly be the height of folly. One crime proved against an otFender in a court of justice, will involve him in punishment ; and it is upon the same principle that St. James observes to the professors of Christianity, " Who- soever offendeth in one point is guilty of the whole law." To plead that law for our justification, which we know we have violated, would be contrary to the analogy of reason. The offender must put in another claim, provided he ex- pects to escape punishment, and that claim must be made upon the mercy of his judge. As offenders against God, let us, therefore, acknowledge our sins, fly to a throne of grace, and, in the spirit and language of the publican, solicit for- giveness. There is pardon and forgiveness for all — " the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." Let no indi- SERMOI^fS. 429 vidua! leave the house of God this morning under an im- pression that salvation is not attainable. Let him not say that no atonement has been made for his sins, and that no Saviour has been provided for him. Christ Jesus is " the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world." He has said that " he will have all men to be saved, and come to the knowledge of the truth." The moment that we assert the impossibility of salva- vation to any of Adam's posterity, we charge the destruc- tion of the sinner to the Almighty, and dispute the veracity of a merciful God. When Jehovah asserts, and swears to the truth of the assertion, " That he taketh no pleasure in the death of a sinner," it is the height of impiety, nay it is more than impious, to question the principle, or to doubt of its truth. It is the fulness of the offer of mercy, that in- spires the mind of a preacher with affection for all men ; it warms his heart with love to God, and excites his com- passion towards his fellow-creatures ; it inspires his heart with a hope that his message will be attended to; that the overtures of God's compassion will obtain a grateful recep- tion, and that the creatures for whom the Saviour died upon the cross will listen with gratitude, and take refuge in his bosom. See the Redeemer, as he is suspended upon the cross ; behold him in the act of his sufferings on Cal- vary, and you must confess that" God is love." Hear him in his last agonies, praying for his murderers, " Father, for- give them," and can you doubt his tenderness for you? To resist such affection seems impossible. " How shall we es- cape," said Paul, "if we neglect so great salvation?" What apology can we offer for our sins? What plea can the transgressor make, to arrest the judgment threatened against iniquity ? Yes, brethren, salvation may be obtained by all who will seek it. Such is the conviction of your preacher, — and if it was my last breath, [ should wish to die with the declaration of St. John upon my lips, " God is love." MM SERMON XI " When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee ; and when through the rivers they shall not overflow thee." — Isaiah, xliii. 2. Before I enter on the discussion of the subject before us, I should consider myself greatly delinquent in duty, were I not to mention the gratification I experience, in being restored, after a protracted and dangerous illness, to the bosom of my family and parishioners. The letters I received from some of you, during my ab- sence, sensibly alleviated the distresses incident to a sick room, (and hushed into silence the gloomy emotions of my mind,) and entitles my kind correspondents to the tribute of my unfeigned gratitute and respect; and the affection- ate welcome, with which I have been greeted since my re- turn, have made an impression my mind which language is too feeble to express. May the Almighty impress my heart with a due sense of his goodness towards me, and render my labours a blessing to the people committed to my charge ! May that same God, whose loving kindness cheered the chamber of disease in which I was confined with the light of his countenance, be with you and your families in every distress, and conduct you in safety to the mansions of eternal peace and joy ! Adversity is the season in which the Christian reflects, with peculiar satisfaction, upon the sacred promises of Je- SERMONS. 431 hovah. In the hour of prosperity, the world and its fleet- ing enjoyments are too apt to attract his regard, and as long as the sun of human happiness reflects its cheering beams around him, the transitory pleasures of time capti- vate his attention, and chain his affections to the earth. But, when the heavy cloud of afliiction gathers over his head, and the atmosphere in which he breathes is agitated by the thunders of distress, he seeks a refuge from the storm, and flees with rapidity to the bosom of his Redeemer for protection. The life of men, like the face of nature, is infinitely va- riegated : it experiences its vicissitudes and changes, and is visited with the genial rays of happiness, and the chill- ing blasts of affliction ; it has its hours of sunshine, and partakes, also, of the friendly and prolific showers of dis- tress. In the natural world these changes are indispensably necessary. Lightning purifies the air in which we breathe, and the rain, which in general accompanies it, brings the vegetable world to perfection. The sun, without the in- fluence of showers, would scorch the face of nature with his rays ; but, animated by their effects, the declining ver- dure of the fields is stopt ; the drooping flowers receive fresh strength, and evidence, in their appearance, the bene- fits they have received. The lightning of affliction awa- kens man from the awful lethargy of sin and inconsidera- tion : it purifies his heart, and excites in his mind an obe- dience to his Creator. The showers of distress water the plant of Christianity in his bosom, and bring it to perfec- tion. Those virtues Vi-hich had declined under the influ- ence of prosperity ; those virtues which had been withered by the sun of uninterrupted enjoyment are revived ; they expand their beauties, they bud and blossom like the rose. That affliction is frequently productive of such beneficial effects, is a truth known to every obser*'ant mind ; that affliction weans and disengages our affections from, the world, is a truth established by experience upon a basis incontro- vertible : the salutary consequences, therefore, which are produced by distress, are evidences of the necessity of 432 SERMONS. human chastisement, and are undoubted proofs of the love of God. Yes, the reformation to which they give rise, plainly shows us that God is merciful in the midst of his judgments; that he pilieth those who love him, as a father pitieth his children ; and that in those very moments in which we are passing through the waters of tribulation, and wading through the rivers of adversity, God himself is with us, supporting us in his own everlasting arms, and directing our attention to eternal things. Look at the pa- triarch Abraham, in that tremendous hour when he was commanded by the Almighty to offer up his beloved Isaac. In what a sea of difficulty must the solemn injunction have involved him ! with what vehemence must the storm have beaten upon his aged head ! To sacrifice the son of his hope ; to deprive his child of his existence ; a son whom he had so often embraced in his arms, and cherished in his bosom! Could human nature, unassisted, have yielded an assent? Could the rebellious heart of man have acquiesced Jn the awful requisition? To what power could he have been indebted for his resignation but to the power of God ? He recollected those innumerable instances of divine love which he had received at the hands of the Almighty, and in the hour of his trial he remembered past mercies. The waves of tribulation raged awfully around him, but he be- held with the eye of faith a guardian Jehovah conducting the storm, and his ears were saluted with this benevolent assurance of the divine protection : " When thou passest through the w^aters I will be with thee; and when through the rivers they shall not overflow thee." Animated with that confidence with which a belief in the promises of God inspired his mind, he ascended Mount Moriah, and prepared his important sacrifice ; the wood was laid upon the altar, and the sacred victim was bound. Isaac was, at that mo- ment, dfad, to the natural reason of his father; lightnings were flashing around the aged believer, and clouds and (hick darkness hovered over him ; the knife was drawn from its sheath, and the trembling arm of Abraham was outstretched. At that moment, when deliverance appear- SERMONS. 433 ed impossible, the promise of Jehovah was fulfilled ; when his fears had reached their summit, relief was provided : — " Lay not thine hand upon the lad," exclaimed the God of Sion, "and touch not mine anointed." At the voice of the Almighty the waters of affliction withdrew; the faith of the Patriarch was confirmed ; he stood secure and undis- turbed. The same promises which supported Abraham in the performance of his duty, are open for the comfort and en- couragement of us; trouble must not induce us to suppose that we are excluded from, the favour of heaven : on the contrary, we should view it as the evidence of divine love, and listen to the instruction which it communicates. The heart of Abraham must have been dilated with grief, but from a conviction that the Judge of all the earth could not do wrong, he bowed with submission to his fatherly will; his obedience met with a sure reward ; his sorrows were succeeded by a return of joy, and the love of the Almighty shone the brighter as it emerged from the dark cloud of tribulation. The waters of distress are placed between heaven and mortals; and we are expressly told that through much tribulation we must enter into glory. Human life is not represented to the Christian as a place of rest: the Scrip- tures in no instance afiford him such a prospect ; there is a Jor- dan between us and endless happiness; and we are exhorted to press forward toward the prize which is set before us. The words of our text convey to the believer's mind the assurance of the continued presence of his Maker: " When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee; and when through the rivers they shall not over- flow thee." Difficulties are here presented to the be- liever's view; there are rivers, tremendous in appearance, to pass through ; but why should we fear the raging of the elements, when we are assured that Christ Jesus is direct- ing the storm ? Frequently, indeed, like Peter of old, the follower of Jesus finds himself sinking beneath the pressure of his woes, his heart and his flesh fail him through fear, the waters of sorrow immerse hirn in their foaming billows, M M 2 434 SERMONS. and in the anguish of his spirit he cries aloud, " Hath God forgotten to be gracious ?" " Lord, save me, or I perish !" These fears, however, are only perniitted to take possession of his bosom for a season ; they are sent to create in him a thirst for celestial joys; to convince him of the transitory nature of temporal comforts, and to show him his depend- ence upon Jehovah. Stimulated by them, he views the world and its concerns through a proper medium; he re- members that the ties of human happiness are so easily dissolved, that it is his interest as well as duty to become more closely connected with his God, and to form a chain of union with his Creator, which will enable him to brave the storms of human life, and to ride triumphant upon the tempestuous sea of adversity. Not that the Christian can meet misfortune without feeling those effects naturally flow- ing from distress, but from the pleasing conviction that his affliction has been weighed in the balance of infinite good- ness ; conscious that he is superintended by a Being who is alive to his best interests ; knowing that the sorrows under which he labours have been applied by a Father's hand, with the intention of promoting his eternal peace, he is enabled to prostrate himself at the feet of Jehovah, and to say with holy resignation, "Though he slay me, yet v\ill I trust him :" " It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good." It is from that light, reflected upon the mind by the Gospel of Christ, that we are enabled thus to act; it is the Gospel of Jesus which thus irradiates with its cheering beams the path of human tribulation. The religion of na- ture, brethren, teaches us no such lesson; human wisdom, with all its boasted resources, fails us in the hour of ad- versity; the philosophy of the world affords us no hope in those moments in which we need the greatest assistance; it leaves its votaries in awful darkness, without a light to guide them, or a shelter to protect them from the storm. While surrounded by prosperity ; while basking in the sunshine of human enjoyments, the poor sceptic feeds upon the bounties of Providence, without acknowledging SERMONS. 435 his superintending care, or feeling the weight of those ob- ligations by which he is bound to the God of his salvation ; but when the clouds of affliction gather around him, and the world refuses him a continuance of its delusive comforts, he stands defenceless and unprotected ; when the winds of tribulation blow, and when the floods of sorrow rise, they sap the foundation of his repose, and he falls the miserable victim of folly and presumption. The religion of Jesus is, therefore, the one thing needful to constitute man happy ; in prosperity it teaches us that we are indebted for our blessings to the benevolent Parent of the universe; that they are lent to us for a short season, and that God is the best judge when to withdraw them from our embrace. It teaches us that we stand connected to the Almighty by a tie infinitely more tender than any with which we are ac- quainted ; that the affection which unites a tender mother to the infant of her bosom, is inconsiderable when com- pared with that regard which unites the Lord Jesus to his obedient children. It teaches us that the Almighty chastises us from a principle of love; that however mar- vellous his dispensations may appear to the eye of human reason, yet that his ways are just and true, and that " all things shall work together for good to those who love God." Persuaded of these comfortable truths, the believer bends with filial resignation; when passing through the waters of affliction he is supported in the arms of his Redeemer, and if in some hour unusually afflictive his faith is for a mo- ment shaken, the promises of God restore him to a state of self-command ; he hears the voice of his Almighty friend speaking into silence his apprehensions: "It is I, it is ihy Saviour, be not afraid." That God is really the support of those wlio love him, may be proven from a variety of instances in the Sacred Writings; that he conducts them in their passage through the rivers of adversity, the page of Revelation will testify. Trace the progress of Joseph through all his trials, and you will find that the Almighty was with him, supporting him under the pressure of his sorrows, and advancing him 436 SERMONS. in virtue and happiness; even in the gloomy hour of his confinement, when deprived of every ray of human com- fort, " the Lord was with him, showing him mercy, and giving him favour in the sight of his enemies." Recollect, also, the merciful deliverance of Daniel ; view him in the den of lions, the innocent victim of infidelity and wicked- ness. Human reason could have afforded him no hope; death and destruction, to the eye of nature, must have appeared inevitable; yet behold him surrounded by his Omnipotent friend; see the lions deprived of their natural ferocity, lying harmless at his feet, evidencing to him a tenderness denied him by his fellow-men. Consider, also, the interposition of Jehovah in behalf of the three Jews who were cast into a furnace heated seven times hotter than usual; the flames with which they were surrounded were deprived of their consuming power; the God of their salvation was with them; the waters could not overflow them. Again; Should the Christian be permitted to struggle with human evils ; should the Almighty not think proper to deliver him from temporal distress; he is not to conclude that the ears of Jehovah are closed against him, or that his prayers are disregarded. The object that the Almighty has in view, is to promote the eternal happiness of his fol- lowers; and our own experience must convince us, that a state of uniform prosperity, a separation from affliction, is little calculated to produce so desirable an event. Our afTections are wedded by nature to the world, and it is by the removal of those enjoyments with which we are sur- rounded, that we are taught the instructive lesson of duty and obedience. David was sensible of this truth ; the blessings with which he had been favoured, instead of attaching him to his Creator, and producing in his mind a disposition of virtue, had alienated him from the Almighty; the rod of affliction was therefore applied; by its effects the wandering monarch was convinced of his transgression ; the uncertainty of human joys became obvious to his niind, and he was directed for happiness to a city which hath SERMONS. 437 foundations, whose builder and maker is God. So sensible was he made of the salutary effects of distress, that he ac- knowledged with gratitude the kindness of Jehovah, in the application of that affliction under which he laboured : " Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now will I keep thy law." Among the many trials to which man is exposed, there is none which strikes more deeply at his happiness than the loss of his near connexions. As social beings, we are in- debted to each other for the comforts of human life. It is from the kindness and attentions of those united to us by the ties of affinity, that we derive the most sublime enjoy- ments; the names of husband and wife, parent and child, brother and sister, strike the ear with peculiar tenderness, and inspire the mind with satisfaction and delight. Amidst the convulsions which agitate our bosom, amidst that torrent of distress with which we are frequently called to struggle, we find in their converse and society, a solace for our griefs, a balm for every wound ; of their sincerity we have no doubt, in their sympathy we perfectly confide. While other evils may be said to form a stream, over which we can step with little difficulty, their separation and depar- ture constitute waters which alarm us, a river to the eye of flesh deep and impassable. To support us under such trials, the Christian religion is nobly calculated ; by the light which it affords us, the valley of death is perfectly illumined ; the shades and hor- rors of its scenery are dissipated, and it is represented to our view as a shadow, the path to eternal joys. Is the Christian called upon to part with the child of his affections, the son of his hope ? Revelation takes him by the hand, and directs him to that world of happiness where sorrow and sighing find no admission, and where every tear will be wiped from his eye. Does nature cling with resist- less force to the object of its attachment? Revelation assures the suffering parent that his child is the heir of eternal joys, that " it is not dead but sleepeth ;" that so far from intending its destruction, Jehovah by its removal will 438 SERMONS. consummate its bliss, and confirm it in the possession of hap- piness endless and unabating. " Suffer it to come unto me and forbid it not, for of such is the kingdom of God." At the declaration of that assurance, the pangs of parental love are assuaged; the storm of his affliction is succeeded by a day of serenity and composure ; the waters of distress are not permitted to overflow and destroy his hopes. Is the Christian called upon to part with a beloved parent; a parent who has nursed him in his infancy, and folded him in the arms of the sincerest affection ? Does he perceive those lips, from which have flowed his youthful instructions, quivering in death 1 Does he perceive those hands which have aided him in his infant exertions, clasped in dissolution ? Does he perceive those eyes which have so often beamed in kindness upon him, sunk in their sock- ets insensible to surounding objects? Does he perceive those ears in which he once lodged his complaints, and never lodged them in vain, deaf to those agonies which rend his bosom? Do such objects, I say, strike his mind and convulse his frame ? The promises of God step in to his relief; they ex- plore that path, which nature in all its efforts cannot reach, and clear it of its awful gloom ; they tell him of mansions of rest provided for the people of God ; that death has been deprived of its sting by the Saviour, and that his parent is winging his way to a better world. He gathers encourage- ment from the assurance of revelation; he pants after God as the hart panteth after the water brooks ; he determines, through God's grace, to come out from among the world, and to fit himself for the enjoyment of celestial bliss. The sufferings of the youthful Christian are noticed by that Being whose care extendeth to the young ravens, and the simple sparrow: his mind is strengthened, the waters are forbidden to overflow him. Is the Christian called upon to part with the companion of his bosom ; the friend whom he has selected from the world to share with him in the comforts, and to sympathise with him in the sorrows of human life ? Has disease stamped upon her visage the impress of death 1 Has that SERMONS. 439 smile, with which she always greeted his return, left her countenance, and have paleness and languor usurped its. seat ? Does he perceive the moment advancing when death must separate him from her society, and leave him exposed to the gloom of solitude? At such a moment, a moment which needeth consolation, the Scriptures of God furnish him with every necessary comfort. He fixes his eye upon the tomb of Lazarus, he sees the fetters of death loosened by the Lord Jesus Christ, and beholds the victim of disso- lution arise from his slumbering retirement; he reflects upon that state which is subject to no change, and presses toward the mark ; he beholds the inhabitants of heaven uniting in anthems of praise around the Redeemer's throne, and thirsts for the living God ; he hears the Saviour de- claring, "I am the resurrection and the life, he that liveth and believeth in me shall never die," and his hopes are en- larged ; the triumphant language of Paul strikes his ear with irresistible force, and wipes the tear from his weeping eye : " this corruption shall put on incorruption, this mortal shall put on immortality." Oh, death, I will be thy sting, Oh, grave, I will be thy victory. He anticipates the day when believers in Jesus will meet in perfect peace, and through the countless ages of eternity, chaunt the praises of Redeeming grace ; he lights his torch at the altar of revelation, the darkness of nature vanishes as he advances, and the glories of the celestial world are reflected upon his mind; conscious that the inhabitants of bliss are holy, he flies to the blood of atonement to remove his defilement, and to fit him for the skies; in the exercise of his religious duties, he finds a pleasure which the world can neither give nor take away — his griefs are hushed into a calm — his distresses are appeased — his soul is at rest — " the Lord gave" he exclaims in faith, " and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord." Jehovah beholds with affection the poor sufferer; he goes with him through the waters, and the rivers are not permitted to overflow him. When brought to the verge of eternity himself, the same dependence upon the promises of God support and comfort 440 SERMONS. him; he finds the powers of nature gradually declining, still retains his fortitude of mind; enclosed in the ark of the covenant, he approaches the river of death without a fear ; the waters separate, and furnish him, as they did Israel of old, with a safe passage to eternity. Yes, believing in the word of God he looks the grim tyrant in the face, and with Christian composure declares, " though 1 walk through the valley and shadow of death, 1 will fear no evil ; for thou, my God, art with me, thy rod and thy staff comfort me." To secure to ourselves a state of mind so truly delight- ful, let us accept those offers made us in the Gospel of Christ; let us fly to the atonement as the only place of refuge — the rock upon which to build our hopes of happi- ness; let us make the precepts of Jehovah our rule of life; and we shall find, that in sickness and in health, in trouble or prosperity, the God we love will never leave us nor for- sake us. SERMON XII. " How beautiful upon the mountains, are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace ; that bringeth good tidings of good, that publisheth salvation ; that sailh unto Zion, thy God reigneth !" — Isaiah, Hi. 7. In order to enter into the spirit of that animated ex- pression, which forms the theme of my present discourse, it is necessary that you should be informed of the situation of the Jews, at the time to which it immediately refers. The transgressions which they had committed against God, had involved them in punishments the most grievous and insupportable; they were separated from that state of familiar intercourse with the Almighty, to which they had been accustomed ; and were doomed, not only to a banish- ment from the immediate presence of Jehovah, but also to a state of captivity in Babylon. While exposed on the one hand to the insulting language of their enemies, and upon the other, to a separation from the institutions of that religion, in which they had been instructed by God him- self, their hearts became alive to the awful situation in which they were involved, and they panted for a restora- tion to the divine favor and protection. In their supplica- tions to heaven for assistance, they plead the former favors they had received; they related in the ear of Jehovah those miraculous interpositions he had exercised in their behalf, and entreated the Ahnighty to arise in power, to evidence himself their friend, again, and to have mercy upon Zion ; " Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm of the N N 443 SERMONS. Lord ; awake as in the ancient days, in the generations of old ; art thou not it, that hath cut Rahab to pieces, and wounded Pharaoh the dragon? Was it not thine arm which dried the sea, the waters of the great deep, that hath made the depths of the sea a way for the ransomed to pass over?" The recollection of those splendid triumphs which as a nation they had experienced, animated their minds with a hopeful issue to their troubles, and enabled them to look forward to brighter days. They realized the period, when the Lord would turn back the captivity of Zion ; break the fetters with which they were bound ; emancipate their nation, and restore them to freedom and the services of the temple. After the people had suffered that degree of punishment which, in the estimation of the Almighty, was thought sufficient to wean them from the world, and to direct their views to heaven, the sacred Pro- phet revived their hopes with the promise of better days; he exhorted them to take down their harps from the wil- lows, and to strike the chord of gratitude and praise. '' Awake, awake, put on thy strength, O Zion, the holy city; shake thyself from the dust, 0 captive daughter of Zion ; for thus saith the Lord, ye have sold yourselves for naught, and ye shall be redeemed without money." Elated with the fullest confidence in the protection of heaven, they spoke of their restoration as an event which was upon the eve of its completion; " the redeemed of the Lord shall re- turn, and come with singing unto Zion, and everlasting joy shall be upon their heads: they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and mourning shall flee away." Enraptured with the pleasing idea, they saw in prospect, the messenger who was to proclaim liberty to the captives, leaping upon the mountains, and skipping upon the hills ; •' How beauti- ful upon the mountains are the feet of him, that bringeth good tidings; that publisheth peace; that bringeth good tidings of good; that publisheth salvation ; that saith unto Zion, thy God reigneth." As the language in which the deliverance of the Jews from Babylon is not to be confined to the temporal restoration of that people, but has an un- SERMONS. 443 doubted reference to the redemption of mankind by the Lord Jesus Christ, I shall, in the subsequent discourse, direct your attention to that important event, and shall show you in thejirst place, what the Gospel is; secondly, prove to you, that it is a ground of the greatest joy ; and then con- clude with some practical inferences. I am therefore in the first place, to show you what the Gospel is. The genius of the holy Prophet, though animated upon all occasions, appears to have been particularly so when engaged in the subject before us; he seems to have entered deeply into the view of those distresses entailed upon us by the fall; and when he speaks of the emancipa- tion of mortals from the dominion of hell, the poetic powers of his mind were allowed the fullest range, in order that his description of our deliverance might bear a just resem- blance to those blessings which formed the subject of his discourse; he considered man, with all his boasted powers, disposed to rebel against his Maker, in a state of alienation from God ; obnoxious to the everlasting displeasure of heaven. He viewed the human race as having strayed from the fold, following the devices and desires of their own hearts : as it is expressed in Scripture, poor, wretched and miserable, and blind, and naked ; possessed of no means by which to conciliate the divine favour ; and destitute of any shield with which to ward off the stroke of God's in- dignation; he considered them as in a state of erimity with heaven, the slaves of folly and of vice ; with no prospect be- fore them but a certain, fearful looking for of judgment. To man in such an awful situation, the Gospel proclaim peace and salvation ; it points to the blood of atonement, as it flows from the bleeding bosorh of the Lord Jesus Christ, and declares to Adam's ruined race, that God is in Christ reconciling the world unto himself. It represents sin as expiated by the sufferings of the Redeemer ; it proclaims to us, that as Jesus was wounded for our transgressions, so the believer is healed by his stripes; it informs us in lan- guage as plain as it is forcible, that the Saviour was made 444 SERMONS. sin for us, that the believer might be made the righteous- ness of God in him. This, brethren, is the express view which Scripture affords us of the process of redemption; this constitutes the proclamation of peace which Zion's messengers are delegated to deliver ; these are the principles which Paul laid at the feet of the Corinthians, and which, as an am- bassador of heaven, he entreated them to accept: " we pray you," said he, " in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God." Again: the salvation proclaimed in the text appears wor- thy of that Being from whose sacred courts it hath been issued, when we reflect upon the freedom of those terms upon which it is proposed; those tidings of mercy are worthy their divine author, and may with propriety be called good, which bring salvation to mortals without money and without price. There is no exception, remem- ber, in the overtures of divine grace, for the offers of mercy are ingenuously made to all. Sinners are the objects which brought the Son of God from the bosom of his Father, and for whom he submitted to the death of the cross. " This is a faithful saying and worthy of all men to be received, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners." There is no situation in life, which excludes us from the privileges of pardon, provided we will confess and forsake our sins. The messengers of the cross are sent into the streets and lanes of the city, to bring in the poor and the maimed, the halt and the blind. Yes ! we are commanded to explore the high- ways, and to penetrate into the hedges, to sound the trumpet of Jubilee in the ears of mortals; we are enjoined not only to persuade, but to compel them, by urging the consequences of their impenitence, to fly to the arms of the Saviour. Should mortals plead their inability to repair to the standard of the cross? b'hould they say that they are tied and bound with the chain of their sins, and therefore unable to comply ? We tell them that "Christ Jesus came to preach deliverance to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound. "We not only point out to them their remedy, but the means by SERMONS. 445 which to avail themselves of it ; we carry them in imagina- tion to the dungeon of Philippi, and show them the de- liverance whicli was effected in the case of the Apostle Peter; we inform them that the power of God was excited for the relief of the suffering disciples; that the poor cap- tive was set at perfect liberty, and that Jehovah is equally disposed to assist them. With tidings so benevolent in their character we appear before you. We tell you, and Scrip- ture warrants the declaration, that salvation is as free as the water which flows from the bosom of the earth. Impressed with these considerations, we adopt the language of the Prophet, and in his inspired words we cry aloud, " Ho every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price." Viewing the Gospel in this auspicious light, we shall see, in the second place, that it is a ground of the greatest joy: this is the light in which it has been viewed from its first promulgation to the present period. Cyrus was the indi- vidual who was raised up by the Almighty, and expressly sent to free the Israelites from their bondage. If the feet of the messengers who were sent with the intelligence of the liberation of the Jews appeared beautiful to that people, and excited in their bosoms a tumult of happiness, how in- describably joyful must that information be, which pro- claims the deliverance of man from the prison of eternal death, and asserts his restoration to the favour of the everliving God ? Abraham, pre-eminently distinguished as the father of the faithful, who lived two thousand years before the advent of the Messiah, rejoiced exceedingly to see in prospect the day of the Lord Jesus. In the solemn ofTering of his only son to Jehovah, he saw a type of that great sacrifice which was made for sinners; he beheld with the eye of faith, " the Lamb of God who hath taken away the sin of the world ;" he saw the triumphs of redeeming grace — millions plucked from the hand of the destroyer of souls, and was glad. How unspeakable was the joy with which the minds of angels were inspired, when the Sun of Righteousness arose with healing under his wings; with N N 2 446 SEKMON3. whai rapturous delight did they proclaim to man the tidings of his restoration ! The chariots of God conveyed the inhabitants of bliss to the abodes of mortality; the choirs of heaven lent their seraphic aid, to enliven with the notes of joy the peaceful intelligence; and while Ga- briel proclaimed the Saviour's nativity, a multitude of the heavenly host chaunted in fervent strains, " Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, good- will towards men;" they saw the blessed Jesus as the mediator between God and man, spoiling the principalities and powers of hell, making a show of them openly, and triumphing over them. Again; Wherever the Gospel has diffused its cheering influence, we perceive that joy and happiness have fol- lowed in its train. Thus we observe that the moit ma- lignant passions which ever disturbed the peace of fallen mortals, were eradicated from the minds of those who em- braced the truths of Christianity, and the calm virtues of love and peace were established upon their ruins. This was remarkably fulfilled in that change which was eflfected upon the hearts of those who were awakened by the preaching of St. Peter; they had but a short time be- fore exulted at the sufferings of the Saviour, and had united their voices in scoffing at him while hanging upon the cross; their guilty hands were stained with his blood, and their bo:;oms were the seat of malice and revenge. But when the grace of God, like the rays of the meridian sun, illumined their minds, the preaching of the Apostle became the savor of life to their precious souls ; they gladly received his words; they bowed at the feet of the cross ; " they con- tinued daily in the temple with one accord, and, breaking bread from house to house, did eat their meat with glad- ness and singleness of heart, praising God, and having fa- vour with all the people." See, also, the effect produced in the temper and disposition of Saul of Tarsus. While he continued the votary of Judaism, his zeal was manifested by conduct at variance with every principle of benevolence ; his zeal was manifested by exciting in the bosoms of his SERMONS. 447 countrymen a spirit of the most unfeeling revenge; Saul himself, forgetting the dignity of his character, held the clothes of those who stoned St. Stephen to death, and thus imbrued his hands in a brother's blood. After his conversion to Christianity, how different, brethren, were his feelings and his views! "The servant of God," said he, " must not strive, but be gentle unto all men — in meekness instructing those who oppose them- selves:" " Be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, for- giving one another, even as God, for Christ's sake, hath forgiven you." These wonderful effects, however, cannot surprise us, when we consider how fully the tidings of sal- vation are calculated to establish this joy and this peace in our minds. If the Jews exulted at their deliverance from a cruel yoke, and a restoration to their native country ; if the messengers of their release gave birth to such emo- tions of happiness, how much more should a fallen sinner rejoice, when the Gospel proclaims in his ears the willing- ness of God to be reconciled to his soul ! If the poor cripple, who had lain at the gate of the temple from his youth, rejoiced at his restoration to the use of his limbs ; if his re- covery occasioned such vibrations of felicity in his mind, as to make him leap with ecstacy and delight, praising and adoring the Author of his blessings, how should the Chris- tian rejoice when called from darkness into light ? When by conversion of heart he becomes a new creature, and is made an heir of God, and a joint heir with Christ ; when from that change he discovers in his life and conversation, he can say that his soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowler; when he becomes a partaker of that peace of God which passeth all understanding, what su- preme cause has he for pious exultation ! The joy, my brethren, peculiar to the Gospel, is not confined to the lower world; it is at this moment, and ever will be, the subject of praise and thanksgiving in the regions of eternal day ; the saints of the Most High God, who are permitted to assemble around the throne of Jehovah, have their at- tention constantly directed to the effects of the cross of 448 SERMONS. Christ, and never are they diverted from that sublime ob- ject for a single moment : day and night their harps of praise are tuned to devotion : day and night are they sing- ing, in strains of celestial melody, *' to him who loved them, and washed them from their sins in his own blood;" and though the blessed angels, those happy spirits who never fell, are less interested in the subject than the saints, yet do they join the happy chorus, and with unceasing adora- tion, " Ascribe honour and glory to him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb forever." Again ; The Gospel forms a ground of the greatest joy, as it respects that information by which life and immor- tality have been brought to light ; the grave, through its cheering influences, is divested of its horrors ; the parent, when called to part with a beloved child, no longer shrinks back with horror at the idea of separation ; he realizes the blissful hour when its dust will be reanimated, and the peaceful slumberer arise to everlasting day ; when its happy spirit, reunited to its incorruptible body, will ascend into the third heaven, and take its mansion near the throne. Yes, when standing at the tomb, he considers it only the receptacle of its body for a season; with the tear of parting affection rolling down his cheek, he thus addresses the gloomy mansion : " Think not, Grave, that we resign This treasure as forever thine: We only ask a transient stay, 'Till Heaven unfolds the eternal day." With tidings and consolations such as these, we revive the widow's heart; we calm her throbbing bosom with the recollection of eternal joys, and direct her eyes to heaven. The orphan also receives encouragement from Zion's messengers; we proclaim to the defenceless mourner that rest which is provided for the people of God ; we assure the trembling sufferer that her parent, if a believer in the Lord Jesus, is not dead, but sleepeth : that the day SERMONS. 449 is at hand which will usher her into the presence of that father, who once folded her in his arms; into the pre- sence of that mother, at whose bosom she was nurtured, and who taught her lips to lisp the praises of the great Eternal. To conclude; The Gospel contains a full and free offer of salvation through the merits of the Redeemer; it brings a pardon to every penitent — a pardon sealed with the blood of Christ — a pardon presented to him without money and without price. How sincerely should we rejoice at those tidings which proclaim to us an inheritance in heaven, a city which hath foundations; whose pillars adversity and sorrow can never shake ; whose builder arid maker is God. Let all who hear the joyful sound improve the opportu- nity. Let them consider the conditions upon which the blessings of the gospel are suspended ; repent of sin, and believe on the Lord Jesus. Let them meet the messengers of the cross with grateful hearts, and let their lives bear witness to the sincerity of their religious profession. Let duty to God form our paramount consideration. "Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and run with patience the race that is set before us; looking to Jesus, who is the author and finisher of our faith," for grace to carry into elTcct our virtuous reso- lutions, and for strength to persevere in Christian holiness. Living in the discharge of our duty to God and to man, believers have every thing to hope, and nothing to fear. What! shall the heirs of a better and an eternal world, despond? Shall those who sincerely love God and delight in his commandments, tremble under momentary trials? Shall those whose treasure is in heaven, be discouraged on account of temporal evils? Believers, remember that there is a rest provided for the people of God ; a rest from all your labours and all your difficulties; a rest where all is happiness and joy ; a heaven in which no privations will await you ; a heaven in which you will meet with those believing friends for whom you have mourned, and from 450 SERMIONS. whom you will no more be separated ; a heaven whose felicity is never interrupted by the sigh of sorrow, where the voice of mourning is never heard, but joy unutterable and full of glory will be your portion for ever. Take, gracious God, take my congregation into thy holy keeping ; preserve them from sin, and let that mind that was in Christ Jesus be in them ! SERMON XIII " I have received of the Lord, that which also I delivered unto you, that the Lord Jesus, the same night in which he was betrayed, took bread : And when he had given thanks, he brake it, and said. Take, eat, this is my body which is broken for you ; this do in remembrance of me. After the same manner, also, he took the cup, when he had supped, saying, This cup is the New Testament in my blood ; this do ye as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of me. For as often as ye eat this bread and drink this cup, ye do shew the Lord's death till he come." — 1 Cor. xi. 23 to 26. In this chapter, from which T have selected the subject of our present meditation, the Apostle exhibits to our view the nature and design of that holy ordinance, to which our attention is particularly called at this time. To correct the erroneous opinions which the Corinthians held respecting it, and to reprove them for that levity and in- consideration which marked their conduct in the observ- ance of it, appears to have formed his chief object. In the course of his observations upon the important subject, he discovers to us the reasonableness and propriety of the institution ; he shows us how admirably it is cal- culated to preserve in the human mind a sense of our ob- ligations for the mercies of redemption ; to awaken the sensibilities of our hearts to the tender recollections con- nected with it; and to excite our gratitude to that Saviour who died for the salvation of a lost and ruined vx'orld. 452 SERMONS. By a careful perusal of the whole chapter, the attentive Christian will discover that the condemnatory clause which it contains, can have no possible bearing upon any indi- vidual whose intentions are sincere ; who, fronn motives of gratitude to heaven, commemorates the suflferings of the Lord Jesus, and whose desire it is to conform his life to the divine precepts. The Corinthians, instead of observing the institution as an ordinance purely spiritual, as a mean by which their vir- tues might be invigorated, their hearts softened into contri- tion, and their minds renewed by divine grace, had made it a scene of revelry and confusion ; employed it to feed their lusts ; changed a feast of charity into a debauch ; convert- ed a religious rite into a common feast; and thus evidenced their gratitude to God, as men too often do on days of pub- lic rejoicing, by a violation of moral duty in acts of riot and intemperance. To correct this glaring evil, and to bring to their view the heinous nature of their ofTence, the Apostle thus addressed them: — "What! have ye not houses to eat or to drink in, or despise ye the Church of God ? When ye come together into one place, this is not to eat the Lord's Supper, for, in eating, every one taketh before other his own supper, and one is hungry, and another is drunken. What shall I say to you ? Shall I praise you in this ? I praise you not." After these remarks, he enters into an explanation and statement of the origin and intent of the ordinance, reminding them of the time in which it was instituted, and the solemnity with which it was ordain- ed. "I have received of the Lord, that which also I de- livered unto you, that the Lord Jesus, the same night in which he was betrayed, took bread, and, when he had given thanks, he brake it, and said, Take, eat, this is my body which is broken for you : this do in remembrance of me. After the same manner, also, he took the cup when he had supped, saying, This cup is the New Testament in my blood, this do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in rememberance of me, for as often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do shew forth the Lord's death till he come.'''' SERMONS. 453 This institution, though it commenced with the apostolic family, is to be observed until the second coming of the Lord Jesus. It is not a temporary, but a standing and per- petual ordinance. It is to be celebrated by the people of God through the revolving ages of the world, till the Lord shall come. It is to be observed until the final consummation of all things, when the Saviour shall come in his own glory, with all his holy angels. The observance of it is to be fre- quent, " as oft as ye eat this bread and drink this cup, ye do show forth the Lord's death till he come." In order to guard them against the recurrence of that irreverent behaviour of which he had spoken, he then di- rects their attention, in a verse subsequent to the text, to the solemn duty of self-examination. " Let a man exam- ine himself!" Let him consider the nature and intent of the ordinance. Let him remember that the bread and wine, the sacred elements thus appropriated, are set apart for the most solemn and important purposes; tbat they re- present the body and blood of the Redeemer, and that they are to be used with devotion ; and when you receive them you are to reflect upon the agony and bloody sweat of the precious Lamb of God ; his cross and passion are to be present in your minds, and your prayers are to be offered up to heaven for an interest in the atonement offered upon Calvary. Examine yourselves, in order to ascertain the state of your minds ; be sure that your intentions are sin- cere; and be sure that you love your Saviour, that you re- spect his precepts, and entertain an affection for all your fellow beings, forgiving those who have injured you, as you expect forgiveness at the hands of the Almighty. In the consideration of this serious and affecting subject, I shall explain to you, in the first place, the object con- templated iri this holy ordinance. Secondly, show you the necessity of an attendance upon it, and the ingratitude connected Vv'ith the neglect of (his duty ; and then conclude with some practical remarks. First, I am to explain to you the object contemplated in this holy ordinance. 00 454 SERMONS. It can require no argument to convince us, that we are too unmindful of the mercies we receive ; and that every means which is calculated to keep alive in our minds the debt of gratitude we owe the Almighty, cannot be too highly esteemed and valued. The favours we receive at the hands of Jehovah, should be faithfully recorded and indelibly impressed upon our hearts; but, instead of per- ceiving this to be the fact, his mercies, like letters written upon the sand, are soon obliterated from our recollection and forgotten. Although we are surrounded by his good- ness, snstained by his care, fed by his bounty and redeem- ed by his blood, we are too insensible of our obligations, and forgetful of that source from which all our comforts ema- nate. To call home our wandering thoughts, and to excite in our minds a spirit of gratitude and reflection, the Lord Jesus instituted his last supper; in which solemnity he leads the religious worshipper to Calvary; discovers himself to his view upon the cross; informs him of the cause of his sufferings ; recognizes him as a member of his mystical body ; addresses him as his child and disciple ; entreats him to summon to his aid the grateful feelings of devotion ; to confess him before men ; and to do this in remembrance of him. Similar to the ordinance under consideration, was the institution of the Passover, a ceremony observed by the Jews, as a memorial of their deliverance from the sword of the destroying angel. The gratitude which animated their bosoms at the recollection of that event, bath not been ex- tinguished to the present day, and we find them still in the observance of the solemn rite. In addition to the duty enjoined upon the Israelites of mature age, they were instructed to inform their descend- ants of the interest which Jehovah had taken in their wel- fare, and to impress upon the minds of their offspring their obligations to the Almighty. " When your children shall say, what mean you by this service ? ye shall say, it is the Lord's Passover." It is commemorative of that mercy which spared our fathers when a thousand of the idola- SEBMons. 455 trous Egyptians fell at their side, and ten thousand at their right hand. It is commemorative of our deliverance when the destroying angel went through the Egyptian dwellings, slaying their first born, and covering our nation with the wings of his protection. Such mercies are not to be for- gotten, but had in everlasting remembrance. " Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and declare the wonders that he doeth for the children of men." If, brethren, a temporal deliverance was thus command- ed to be recognized and observed, how much more should that deliverance be remembered of which we have par- taken, and which was purchased by the sacrifice of the Redeemer ! If the gratitude of the Jews was thus excited by an escape from temporal death and bondage, how much more should the gratitude of believers be excited, who have been rescued from eternal ruin by the blood of the cross, and whose salvation has been procured by the only begotten son of God ! The redemption of man, remember, was eifected by the death of Christ. So inexorable is the attribute of divine justice, so tenacious is Jehovah of his veracity, that unless a ransom had been found equal to the demands of God's violated law, the sentence pronounced against sin would have been carried into effect, and man would have been consigned to remediless woe. To intercept that blow, which would have crushed a universe, the Son of God took upon him our nature; vacated his throne ; died in the stead of the guilty offender; became our surety ; cancelled the debt we had contracted ; unbarred the prison doors, and set the captives free. " He was wounded for our transgres- sions, and bruised for our iniquities ;" " he was made sin for us who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteous- ness of God in him." To perpetuate in our minds this instance of divine love we are enjoined to meet around his table, to eat the bread and drink the cup in remembrance of him ! Yes, when we behold the sacramental bread broken at his altar, we are to call to view the scourgings of the Lord Jesus ; to 456 SERMONS. reflect upon the agonies he suffered upon the cross, when his hands and feet were lacerated with nails, and his side pierced with a spear. When we drink of the cup, we are to remember that it is emblematic of his blood, that blood which was shed for our salvation ; without the shedding of which we and our children must have perished, and been undone forever. The importance of the event thus recognized in his last supper, will appear evident when we consider the circum- stances attendant upon the act of redemption. The devo- tional powers of our souls will be set in motion, and our gratitude kindled into a flame, when we reflect that at the moment alluded to, the sun was darkened and withheld his rays; that nature laid by her robes of light, and was clothed in sackcloth ; that the earth trembled to its cen- tre; that the rocks were rent asunder, when the Son of God, the Immaculate Jesus, bowed his head and gave up the ghost. To reflect upon such an act of benevolence; an act marked with such featuresof divinity, and pregnant with such benefits to mankind, without feeling our bosoms inspired with gratitude to God, is impossible ! To remem- ber that our fathers, ourselves, and our children, have been plucked as brands from the burning, by the redeeming hand of the Lord Jesus, and remain insensible to our obli- gations, would reflect a disgrace upon the human charac- ter for which no apology could be offered. Believers, think of these things, when kneeling around his altar this day; call to mind the love of your Redeemer, and in a burst of gratitude exclaim, " Bless the Lord, and forget not all his benefits." If your children should ask j^ou, what mean you by this religious ceremony? tell them that it is a me- morial of the love of Jesus to a guilty world; that it is done to perpetuate that benevolence of the Saviour which excited astonishment in the breasts of angels : that it is done in remembrance of that Jesus who redeemed them from death ; through whom we have found acceptance with the Father ; that it is done in remembrance of an act of parental mercy, which language in all its glowing num- SERMONS. 457 bers cannot describe ; by virtue of which the heaven we had lost has been restored to us, and life and immortality secured. Again ; This duty continues binding upon the Church of Christ till time shall be no more ; for we are to show forth the Lord's death till he come. Of this truth we have the most abundant evidence in Scripture; we perceive in the Gospel of Luke, that the two disciples who met the Saviour on the way to Emmaus, and who were not members of the Apostolic family, were admitted to this holy rite. In the second chapter of the Acts, we are also informed that the Christians universally continued stead fast in the Apostles' doctrine and fellowship, and in break ing of bread, and in prayers. So also in the twentieth chapter it is said that " Upon the first day of the week, when the disciples, (meaning the whole Christian family,) came together to break bread, Paul preached unto them;" and in the Epistle to the Corinthians, the Apostle charges the duty of sacramental communion upon the minds of all the people as a fundamental principle. If the tirst Christians evidenced their gratitude for the mercies of redemption, by meeting around the altar, we are equally bound with them to respect the holy ordinance; the benefits we derive from the death of Christ are the same which they enjoyed; our hopes of salvation are found- ed upon the same basis; our obligations are in all respects the same. We have been redeemed by virtue of the same atonement. We are sanctified by the same Spirit; we are heirs of the same glory ; the children of the same universal Parent. Let our gratitude, then, burn with the same ardour ; let our hosannas, while in this world, be marked with the same fervour of expression ; and our notes of praise, when we reach the heavens, will be equally sub- limated and divine. Again ; The ordinance of the Last Supper is not only commemorative of the sufferings of the Lord Jesus, but it is to be viewed also jis a means of grace — a channel through oo2 458 SERMONS. which we derive strength and ability to perfornn our re- ligious duties. The intelligent communicant, in this holy sacrament, receives Christ, and feeds upon him; his body, which is represented by the bread, proves to him meat indeed; and his blood, which is represented by the cup, proves to him drink indeed ; and as temporal food nourishes the body, strengthening and fitting it for the duties of life, so the sacramental elements, when received by the faithful, nourish the soul, fitting it for the exercise of spiritual duties, animating us with gratitude to heaven, and inspiring us with a desire to love and serve the God of our salvation. That this is the view of the Church upon the subject, ap- pears evident from that instruction which she communi- cates to her members, through the medium of her incom- parable Catechism ; for when, in allusion to this subject, the question is proposed, " What are the benefits whereof we are partakers thereby '?'' the Catechumen is instructed to make this reply : " The strengthening and refreshing of our souls by the body and blood of Christ, as our bodies are by bread and wine." Having thus explained to you the object contemplated in this holy ordinance, 1 am secondly to show you the benefits arising from a compliance vi'ith the duty, and the ingratitude connected with the neglect of this duty. There is no duty attached to the Christian religion, so much neglected by those who confess the Lord Jesus, as this holy ordinance ; and as there is none which involves in it such tender recollections — recollections so congenial to a grateful heart, it is astonishing that it should be overlooked without producing in the mind of the delinquent the most pungent compunction of heart. It was instituted on the same night in which the Re- deemer was betrayed ; at the very moment when the con- sideration of his approaching crucifixion was present to his view; at the period when death, clothed in its most awful attire, stared him in the face ; at the very time in which he was to be ottered up as a ransom fo^ us, to sutTer in our stead, to die that we might live ; at that solemn moment. SERMONS. 459 with his last breath, he instituted the Supper, and com- manded us in accents of parental aflfection to meet around his Table, to call to view his tenderness, and to perform this reasonable duty in remembrance of him. Its great importance, brethren, must appear evident, when we con- sider the moment in which the ordinance was appointed, as it is impossible to suppose that any consideration of minor consequences would at that season have engrossed the attention of the Saviour. The Jews, in commemoration of their deliverance, went thrice every year to Jerusalem, from the remotest parts of Judea to eat the Passover; and can Christians who ac- knowledge the Redeemer, and who hope for salvation through his blood, can they, when the table of the Sa- viour is presented to their view, when the ordinance is brought to their doors, can they evidence such neglect as to refuse a compliance with the injunction of their Head? Can we, brethren, believing that the Saviour gave him- self a ransom for us, and that it is by virtue of his death that we have been rescued from ruin, can we remain so insensible to the calls of gratitude as to withdraw; can we refuse to kneel at his table, to confess him before men, to worship and adore him for his love? Were our childien to act in a similar manner towards us; were they to refuse a compliance with a request made upon our dying pillow — a request so reasonable in its nature, so easy in its accom- plishment, how ungrateful should we consider their con- duct, how devoid of filial affection ! Consider, also, the effect which our neglect may have upon the minds of our families ; our sons and daughters look up to us for an ex- ample; they behold us inattentive to the sacred duty; they see their parents, whose moral virtues they approve, overlook this religious solemnity, and pass by on the other side, as if they possessed no interest in the event of which it is the memorial. In the hour of death, my beloved, if blessed with reason, we shall regret such conduct, and la- ment, when it is too late, the effect produced by our ex- ample in the minds of those we leave behind us. 460 SERMONS. Again; Our neglect will involve us in the greatest guilt, as it includes in it a rebellion against the positive com- mand of the Redeemer. Christ Jesus has enjoined us to " Do this in remembrance of him." By disregarding the precept, we virtually declare that we will not; and although our minds would be alarmed at a declaration to that effect, still does not our refusal amount to the same thing? Is it not saying, "Depart from us, we desire not the knowledge of thy ways :" " Who is the Lord that we should obey him ?" The neglect of the Holy Sacrament includes in it aeon- tempt of the greatest blessings; the Scriptures declare that "They who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength:" and " That a contrite heart our God will not despise." In all our approaches to a throne of grace, we are assured that we shall meet a welcome reception; and that if we ask for spiritual blessings, he will assist the sup- pliant with his Holy Spirit. When kneeling around his altar, in compliance with the Saviour's commands, with what confidence may the devout communicant expect his blessing ! Remember the comfort, the divine illumination which was vouchsafed to Cleopas and his fellow-disciple in the use of this holy ordinance. When Jesus took the bread and gave it to them, the eyes of their mind were opened; their faith, which had become languid, was re- vived ; their affection for the Saviour was increased ; and they followed him with renewed ardour. When mercies so great are to be conferred; when the King of Saints is dispensing his blessings ; who that has ever tasted that he is gracious would not be present to obtain some renewed pledge of his affection ? Believers, it is the table of your Heavenly Father which is spread before you; it is the children's bread of which you are required to partake; when he stretches out his hand and entreats you to eat of it, Oh, turn not away in cold indifference, lest his displeasure should be excited, and his proffered mercies be finally withdrawn. Remember that such was the case with the people of Jerusalem, upon SERMONS. 461 ^ whose minds his tenderness nnade no impression, and who refused the offers of his grace: " Oh, Jerusalem, Jerusalem ! how often would I have gathered you together as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not /" To conclude ; There are very few individuals to be found in society who, from any motives than those of sincerity of heart, would be induced to approach the holy altar; upon any other principle cold and inefficacious would be the sacrifice, and great would be the danger. Frequent are the instances, however, in which the sincere and upright are prevented by fears as groundless as they are incorrect. Can we suppose that the benevolent Jesus, whose heart always beat with the tenderest affection for his creatures, would have instituted a ceremony for our observance, and commanded our participation of that ceremony, in order to endanger our present quiet, and to bar our entrance into the mansions of eternal peace? No, brethren; mistaken would be the views of his parental character, could we harbour such an idea. In all his intercourse with the hu- man family, he evidenced himself our friend ; and if a doubt of his tenderness should rest this morning upon your minds, go in imagination to Calvary, witness his sufferings upon the cross, and you will be obliged to acknowledge that God is love ! Remember the reception with which the Publican met in the temple, and approach the altar with an assurance of a sincere welcome. Yes, beloved, with your hands upon your breasts, cry, " God be merciful to me a sinner !" and that Saviour who looked in tender- ness upon him, will look in tenderness upon you. Many, and those who are truly sincere, are afraid to approach, lest they should approach unworthily; remember that there is an essential difference between being unworthy, and partaking unworthily. The citizen who wantonly violates the laws of his country, is unworthy of pardon; but if he receive with gratitude the pardon offered him, and is determined to offend no more, he receives it worthily. We confess in the* service at the altar, that we are not 462 SERMONS. worthy of the crumbs which fall from the table of the Lord Jesus ; but still if we receive the elements in a grate- ful remembrance of his death, and are determined to cor- rect our errors, amend our lives, and devote ourselves to the service of God, we receive it as we ought, as worthily as our fallen nature will admit of: " A broken heart, my God, my King, Is all the sacrifice I bring; The God of grace will ne'er despise A broken heart for sacrifice." SERMON XIV. " As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, 0 God ! My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God ; when shall I come and appear before God 1"— Psalk, xlii. 1, 2. The animated language in which the holy Psalmist ex- presses his desires for a close interview and communion with God, is a proof of the fervor of his devotion ; and should in- spire us with a disposition when we approach the throne of grace, to call upon our souls, and all the powers of our minds, to engage with becoming spirit in the prosecution of our religious duties. When we fall upon our knees in private, to offer up our prayers to the Almighty, or when we come into his sacred temple tounite in the accents of de- votion, with the assembly of his worshipping people, we should recollect the nature and attributes of that Being be- fore whom we appear, and worship him in the beauty of holiness; we should remember that if angels in his presence veil their faces ; that if the cherubic host of heaven cast their crowns at the feet of Jesus, when they ascribe to him that praise so justly his due, we should endeavour to render him the tribute of a grateful and undivided heart; the world and its momentary concerns should be for a season laid aside. We should keep our minds directed to the object of divine worship; we should recollect that the religious privileges we enjoy were purchased for us by the precious 464 SBRMOXS. ■ blood of a redeeming Jesus, and light the torch of our affections at the altar of the living God. The world, nay hearers, will admit of zealous attention to every pursuit, except that of religion. The votaries of wealth will rise up early, late take rest, and eat the bread of carefulness, in order to extend their temporal possessions. There is no part of the universe but what they will ex- plore, in order to increase their riches. Their hearts are fixed upon the world, and their minds and conversation are absorbed in the consideration of earthly things. Conduct of this nature they judge not only consistent and proper, but absolutely necessary to secure them success; an enthusiasm without which, their efforts would be unequal to the object they have in view. But when the followers of Jesus ap- pear animated with divine things; when they talk of pant- ing after God as the hart panteth after the water; when they confess that their souls are athirst for God, yea, even for the living God ; when in agreement with the Psalmist they declare that one day spent in the courts of the Lord, is better than a thousand devoted to the world ; that their earnestness subjects them to censure. How often does it happen that the pious ardor of the serious Christian is at- tributed to a zeal without knowledge — a warmth of affec- tion unreasonable and injudicious ! But as we are enjoined to love the Lord with all our heart, and all our soul, and all our strength, can the affections of our minds be too much engaged ? Can we be too abstracted from the world ? Too much devoted to our duty ? Should we not strive to lay up treasure in heaven ! in that city which hath founda- tion, whose builder and whose maker is God ? If there is a subject calculated to excite the love of a rational intelligent, and to attract the unwearied attention of an immortal being ; that subject is the salvation of our souls. When we consider the pains which our redemption produced in the mind of the Saviour; when we reflect upon his agonies, and behold him expiring upon the cross, that we might live forever; that individual who can remain cold and insensi- ble to the emotions of piety and gratitude, can have but an SEHMONS. 466 imperfect view of the obligations he is under to the God of his salvation. The Psalm from which I have selected the text, v^^as penned by David, at a time that he was separated from the temple of God, and denied the heart-consoling privi- lege of worshipping the Almighty in the midst of the great congregation. Either through the persecution of Saul, or the rebellion of his son Absalom, he had been driven into exile; the harp, with the mellifluous accents of which he had been accustomed to praise the Lord, was hung upon the willows : and the recollection of his former devotions in- spired his mind with the most earnest longings for a res- toration to the immediate presence of God in his sanctuary. No language that he could possibly invent, possessed suffi- cient force to express the desires of his soul; his mind ap- pears to have been engaged in the pursuit of some figure, by which to represent the extent of his devotional feelings. He traversed the field of nature, to select some object that might resemble the agonizing sensations of his soul, and at length fixed upon a thirsty, famishing deer, to convey in faint characters, the breathings of his mind after God. " As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God." He beheld in imagination the hart flying with rapid strides from the huntsmen who were pursuing her; he saw her upon the stretch, in order to es- cape the destructive violence which threatened her safety, and perceived her to be panting for a drop of water to cool her parched tongue, and to revive her declining strength. Exhausted with the fatigue of the chase, and almost breath- less and faint with the extent of her exertion, a brook of water presents itself to view ; the pleadings of nature would have induced her to stop her flight, and to quench her thirst at the gently flowing stream ; but the fear of the pursuers deprived her of the gratification, and quickened her pace. The sensations which the poor animal endured at that moment, the Psalmist conceived to be in some measure descriptive of his own ; her thirst for water to satisfy the cravings of exhausted nature, resembled the pp 466 SERMOXS. desires of his soul after God ; the privation of sacred privi- leges under which he laboured, had increased his affection for the duty of prayer, and rendered him more anxious than ever to enter into the courts of the Lord. " My soul," says he, "is athirst for God, yea, even for the living God; Oh when shall I appear in the presence of God ?" when will the period arrive that the persecution of my enemies shall cease, and I may be restored to the altars of the God of my salvation. The holy Psalmist had experienced those divine pleasures which arise from an attendance upon the instituted means of grace ; he knew that the humble supplicant, in his ap- proaches to a throne of mercy, would meet with a welcome reception from the Almighty ; and that all those who sincere- ly draw near to God, will find to their comfort, that the Lord will draw near to them. He wished therefore to un- bosom all his cares to that Being who had watched over him from his infancy, and to thank him for his mercies in the midst of that temple where God had promised to meet and to bless his waiting people. Remember, brethren, his singleness of heart: while others thought of the world and its follies, to the exclusion of God, and the concerns of the soul, his mind was fixed on other objects. " One thing," said he, "have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of tl;ie Lord, and to inquire in his temple; for in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion, in the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me ; he shall set me up upon a rock." Never do we justly esti- mate a blessing, until we are deprived of it ; never do we know the importance of health until the hand of sickness arrests us; never do we know the value of a parent, until death hath separated us from that parent; however fer- vent therefore the Psalmist might have been in his devo- tional exercises, he could not have been perfectly alive to their importance, nor duly sensible of their value, until he was separated from the privileges of the sanctuary ; then it was, that the duties of religion presented their importance fu!l in his view ; then it was, that the recollection of his SHRMONS. 467 former interviews with God so deeply affected his heart, that tears of sorrow flowed in torrents from his eyes; " when I remember these things, when I call to view the stately steppings of the Lord in his sanctuary, and recollect the delights I have enjoyed in his presence, I pour out my soul in me : for I had gone with the multitude, 1 went with them to the house of God, with the voice of joy and praise ; with a multitude that kept holy day:'''' and now, he might have added, am I bereft of all these glorious privileges, and in consequence of the persecutions with which I am assailed and distressed, I am obliged to wander in a state of banish- ment from the courts of the Lord's house. Recollecting, however, the former goodness of his heavenly Father: recol- lecting the numerous favours he had received, and the guardian care and protection of heaven with which he had been blessed, he endeavoured to collect his scattered spirits, and to look forward for brighter scenes, and more prosper- ous days; that God who had taken him out of the mire and clay of former despondencies and alarms, still swayed the sceptre of the world, and could make the darkness of ad- versity light before him, and crooked things straight. He therefore reasoned with himself, " Why art thou so dis- quieted, O my soul, and why art thou so cast down within me? hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance." Yes, he might have said, this sorrow may endure for a night, under the pressure of which I languish ; but I have the promise of Jehovah, that joy will come in the morning, and that those who sow in tears shall eventually reap in joy, Jlgain : The soul of man is never more exercised with desires after God, than in those moments, when the extent of past transgressions is presented to his view^ by the light of divine grace; when the careless sinner Is first awakened by the Spirit of God, from the awful slumbers of transgres- sion; when he takes a retrospective view of his life, and finds no solid foundation on which to stand — when he per- ceives that the picture on which he looks is shaded by sins both numerous and aggravated; when he discovers, agreea- bly to the word of God, which has drawn his likeness, that 468 SERMONS. he is " poor and miserable, and wretched, and blind and naked ;" when he finds that frono the crown of his head, to the soles of his {eet, there is no soundness in him, and that he is covered with wounds, and bruises, and putrefy- ing sores. He stands amazed : can it be possible, he cries out in an agony of grief, that my situation is so awfully alarming, and that I have remained so long insensible of it? " Oh, wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death ?" He flies for refuge, perhaps, under his first alarms, to the law of God ; and perceives that the law to which he has flown for security proclaims in a voice louder than the seven thunders of Asia — the soul that sinneth, it shall die. The thunders of Mount Sinai which roll above his head, however terrible to his soul, are not equal in their terrifying effects, to the voice, the awful voice, of his convicted conscience. The knowledge of sin pursues the poor offender day and night, and the recollec- tion of his transgressions is ever before him ; when he is al- most ready to conclude himself an outcast from the fold of Israel, and to suppose that there is no salvation for him, he is directed by the word of truth, or the advice of some pious friend, to behold the Lamb of God, whotaketh away the sin of the world; and to repair, wretched as he is, to the cross of Jesus, to lay himself at the feet of the Saviour, to cry for mercy, in the unalTected strains of fervent prayer, and to accept a free and full salvation, without money and without price. Revived at the idea of that mercy which is oflfered to sinners, and anxious to obtain the pardon of his transgressions, he humbles himself at the (eet of the di- vine majesty, and with groanings which cannot be uttered, he solicits for relief from the overwhelming condemnation of a righteous God; he pants after mercy, as the hart pant- eth after the water-brooks. Oh ! cries the poor sinner, that I knew where I might find him ! that I might come even into his presence; that I might plead for an interest in the blood of that Jesus who died for transgressors; save me. Lord, save me, or I perish forever ! " Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy upon me." To a mortal placed in such a situation, how vain would be an injunction of silence. SESMONS. 469 how fruitless to tell him to cease his importunities ! As well might you recommend calmness to a drowning man, or attempt to separate him from that plank thrown out for his relief. As well might you forbid an individual who is famishing for drink to abstain from quenching his thirst. He feels sensible of his demerits; his soul "is exceed- ing sorrowful, even unto death ;" and with strong crying and tears, he lifts up his voice to the Saviour from whence Cometh his help. " As the hart panteth after the water- brooks, so longeth my soul after thee, oh God. My soul is athirst for God, yea, even for the living God; Oh, when shall I come to appear in the presence of God 1" You perceive the same fervor of expressions and vehemence of desire, in the language of the convicted Israelites, as mentioned by the Prophet Micah ; he brings to our view the case of those who felt burdened with sin, and relates the terms, the fervid terms, in which they inquired after God : " Where- with shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before the most high God ? shall I come before him with burnt oflferings, with calves of a year old? will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of oil ? shall 1 give my first born for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul ?'' No sacrifice that the Lord could have required, would have been withheld by the unhappy delinquent; the salvation of his soul en- grossed his whole attention ; all earthly concerns were swallowed up, in the consideration of eternal things, and he approached the throne of grace as a needy petitioner, de- pending upon the goodness of God for pardon and for mercy. Again : When the penitent sinner has obtained the par- don of transgression ; when from that relief which he ex- periences from the goodness of God, he believes that the Almighty, in conformity with his own promises, has granted him the remission of his sins; and that his crimson defile- ments have been washed away by the blood of the Lord Jesus Christ ; when he knows that the cries, which he has made to the God of his salvation, have been heard, and that the " Almighty has delivered his soul from death, his pp2 470 SERMONS. eyes from tears, and his feet from falling," gratitude to heaven fills and elates his rejoicing breast. " I will walk," says he, " before God in the land of the living. '' I will pay my vows of obedience unto that merciful Being who has relieved my fainting soul ; 1 v%'ill follow Jesus in the way of duty, and let my light shine before men. I will cleave to the skirts of his garment, and my whole life shall be devo- ted to his fear, and spent to his glory. What shall I ren- der unto the Lord? Coldness in such a liberated, par- doned sinner, would be thought a crime; his heart so far from losing the impression of gratitude, would be still athirst for God, yea, even for the living God; and it will be his meat and his drink to do his holy will. Should he be en- gaged in conversation with his friends, with what pleasure would he proclaim to them the goodness of the Lord ! "Come," he would say, " and I will tell you what the Lord has done for my soul ;" rejoice with me, for Jesus the good Shepherd has found the sheep which was lost. To those of you, who know that Jesus is precious ; to those of you who have found rest in the bosom of a sin-pardoning Jehovah, Oh, let me recommend fervor and animation in your devotions; be not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, which is the power of God unto salvation. When you come into his temple to worship the Almighty, remember the mercies he has conferred upon you ; the present and future blessings he hath promised to the sincere penitent ; leave the cares, the trifling cares of the world behind you, and let your affections be placed on heavenly considera- tions. Bring with you the ofTering of an humble and grateful lieart; and let your cry be that of the penitent publican ; " God be merciful to me a sinner." Plead with the Almighty for a more perfect and undivided knowledge of your duty, " Lord what wilt thou have me to do?" Then, my brethren, will the Almighty descend from his throne, and make you to know and feel that he is present in the midst of you : then will he feed you in the fertile pastures of the Gospel, and give you to drink of the waters of com- fort : and prepare you by his grace for that rest provided for his faithful people. SERMON XV. " Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof, from sDcb turn away." — 2 Tim. iii. 5. The holy apostle, who, by the illuminating powers of the Spirit, was enabled to look into the annals of futurity, in- formed his beloved Timothy of the approach of those evils which would sooner or later infest the Church of Christ. He entreated him to continue steadfast in those things which were impressed upon his mind ; to press forward through all those difficulties which might present them- selves to his view, and to be unwearied in his exertions to promote the cause of vital holiness. Among the many evils which the inspired penman was sensible would prevail, he particularly mentions lukewarm- ness in religion. He saw his fellow-creatures deviating from the simplicity of the truth as it is in Jesus; losing their first love ; drawing back from their profession of at- tachment to the precious Saviour; and becoming stran- gers to the divine power of Christianity. He perceived that a little stated attention to the external duties of re- ligion would, by many, be esteemed sufficient, without con- sidering that the form without the power of godliness, is unacceptable at the throne of grace, and that the duties of Christianity, unless they spring from the influence of the Spirit of God, and are performed with that fervour becom- 473 SEKMONS. ing their importance, would meet with the disapprobation of that Being, who requires us to show forth his praise, not only with our lips, but in our lives. Although the necessity of devotion must appear so evi- dent to the reflecting mind, yet how divided in opinion are mortals upon this important point! Many are afraid that the world will esteem them as enthusiasts, if they should withdraw themselves from the vicious pursuits of a de- praved age, and devote their lives to the service of the Almighty. There are others who think that if they at- tend upon the means of grace one day out of seven, it is all that Jehovah has a right to expect; without considering that every breath they draw proceeds from the goodness of God, and that all the temporal blessings they enjoy flow from his beneficence and care. In order, therefore, that we may become acquainted with that duty required at our hands, it will be proper to examine those instructive pre- cepts delivered by Jehovah for the rule and direction of his people, and to endeavour to regulate our lives by the stand- ard of his word. In the prosecution of this duty, brethren, let us divest our minds of prejudice, and learn of that Saviour who was meek and lowly in heart. During the ministry of the Redeemer, and while engaged in the work of man's salva- tion, he was desired, by one of his hearers, to unfold to him the first and great commandment. The blessed Jesus, whose delight it was to benefit mankind, immediately re- plied, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, with all thy heart, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength." Language, brethren, is insufficient to express the extent of that duty, due from dependent creatures to their great Creator ; and to impress the human mind with the nature of that affection with which our bosoms should be anima- ted toward the God of our salvation. When we reflect upon the attributes of the sovereign of the world ; when we con- sider him as the Omnipotent Creator of all things ; when we enter into the third heavens, and see him surrounded with thousands of thousands of glorified spirits, and hear them SERMONS. t73 resounding his praises throughout the heavenly world; when we behold the heavens the work of his hands, the moon and the stars which he hath ordained ; when we consider the blessings with which we are surrounded, and the tokens of his love with which we have been favoured ; the most pious worshipper has reason to accuse himself of neglect ; to bewail the coldness of his devotions, and to ex- claim, in the deepest self-abasement, " Lord, what is man, that thou art mindful of him, or the son of man that thou visitest him V There are many, brethren, in every socie- ty of Christians, who rest satisfied, and who experience a degree of security, from an outward attendance upon the instituted means of worship, without even wishing to be partakers of those desires which flow from the operation of divine grace ! Such people advance toward the temple of the King of kings; they enter the sacred dwelling of the Lord of Hosts ; but, instead of worshipping him in spirit and in truth, their thoughts are wandermg to the ends of the earth ; their minds, instead of being lifted up in prayer, are hurried away in the pursuit of temporal things, to the dishonour of God, and the destruction of their immortal souls. To be found in the company of saints, is perhaps all that they think necessary. When they hear the devout inquirer cry out in the glowing ac- cents of supplication, " Thou Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us-;" they ridicule him as an enthusiast, and thinkit unnecessary that prayer to be effectual should be fervent ! When they per- ceive the tear of contrition, flowing from the weeping eye of the repenting sinner, and see the sigh of anguish swell his bosom, they laugh at his weakness, and censure him for his devotional exercises. Behold such a worshipper in the moments of his devotion ; the sacred liturgy of the Church is perhaps before him, but he does not unite in its holy ofiices ; when the service requires him to call upon God to open his lips, that his mouth may shew forth his praise, he remains insensible to the necessity and force of the petition, and re- gardless of its importance. At length his patience becomes 474 SEBMONS. exhausted, the form of godliness fatigues his mind, he waits with impatience for the moment when he can again con- verse upon the things of time, and be freed from the neces- sity of further restraints. Like the Jews, as it is mentioned by Amos, he says within himself, " When will the new moon be gone, that we may sell corn, and the Sabbath that we may set forth wheat ?" His thoughts, beloved, are in the ends of the earth, he makes the house of God a house of merchandise ! Consider, I beseech you, the majesty of that God who requires you to love him with all your strength; and reflect with sorrow upon the languor of your religious hours; recollect the solemn awe with which the minds of the children of Israel were impressed, at the delivery of the law upon Mount Sinai, and be astonished at the forbear- ance of heaven with you: " Speak thou," said the affright- ed Israelites to Moses, " Speak thou with us, and we will hear; but let not God speak with us, lest we die;" and shall we come into the presence of the majesty of heaven, untouched with the fire of devotion, and mock him to his face ? Shall we come into his temple, regardless of that God who fills it with his glory ? Shall we enter the house^ dedicated to that Being, before whom angels veil their faces, without reflecting upon the solemnity of the place, without preparing our hearts to meet him? Shall we come to hear of the death and sufferings of Jesus, at whose cru- cifixion the rocks rent, the earth quaked, and the sun was clothed in darkness; and shall we sit in his presence unmoved and unconcerned ? Oh, my beloved, it is not a cold, formal attendance in the house of God which forms a devotion ac- ceptable to heaven ; it is not the form of godliness with which Jehovah will be satisfied! Ptemember, that the most sublimated devotion falls short of what God has a right to expect at our hands. Be not contented, therefore, with the shadow of religion, but strive to catch a spark of that ardour which animates the hosts of God ! Be not con- tented with having your names recorded upon the baptis- mal register, but strive to have them written in the Lamb's book of life, and endeavour to worship our Jesus in the SERMONS. 475 beauty of holiness. Remember the unhappy state of the Church of Sardis ; they had a name (hat they Hved, but still they were declared by the Spirit of God to be dead ; they had the form, but they wanted the power of godli- ness. "Be watchful," therefore, said the heavenly messen- ger, " Be watchful, and strengthen the things which are ready to die, for I have not found thy works perfect before God." We, like that Church, may abound in religious cere- monies; yet unless our hearts are engaged in worship; un- less we feel the power of Christianity influencing our con- duct; unless we enter with spirit and zeal into our services, we shall be found a sounding brass and a tinkling symbol ; and at last be banished from the presence of God, with a "Depart, ye cursed, ye workers of iniquity, I never knew you." But methinks I hear some of you exclaiming, is the form of godliness of no effect? I have contented my- self, year after year, with the assurance that an attendance upon public worship constituted me a follower of the Lamb! I have, indeed, frequently been employed, while within the courts of the Lord's House, in concerting schemes for the advancement of my worldly interest; but still I indulged a hope that my presence within the walls of the sanctuary, would atone for my cold-heartedness, and that the repetition of prayer, though my heart was unaffected, would be acceptable at the throne of grace. If this should be the language of any individual present, permit me to assure him of his danger; Satan, like a roaring lion, is seeking to devour you; he has lulled you into a fatal se- curity; he has cried peace to you when there is no peace — for the ways of religion, to the people of God, are the ways of pleasantness ; one day spent in the courts of the Lord, is better than a thousand. To worship God accept- ably, therefore, we must draw near to him as those who have business of eternal importance to transact ; we must remember that life is uncertain, and that the opportunity with which we are favoured may be our last ; earnest, therefore, must we be in our supplications, provided we 476 SERMONS. expect to prevail ; like the Phoenician woman, our minds must be directed to Jesus as our only good; and we must press through the crowd, that our souls may be heal- ed. Unless this is our desire, we shall find that our situa- tion will resemble that of the Jews : " This people," said God, " draw near me with their mouth, and with their lips do honour me, but have removed their heart far from me ; therefore, behold, I will proceed to do a marvellous work among this people — for the wisdom of their wise men shall perish, and the understanding of their prudent men shall be hid." Again; Should any of you doubt, respecting that effect which vital religion ever produces upon the minds of those who love the Saviour in sincerity, I would advise you to con- sult the experience of the humble follower of Christ; ask him whether he does not enjoy a comfort in religion, which the pleasures of the world could never afibrd him; ask him to relate to you those exercises of grace which support him under trouble, and render him resigned to the will of God. To such inquiries, beloved, you would find a ready answer; yes, he would tell you, in the accents of gratitude, religion is, indeed, the anchor of my soul ! Oft has it cheered my heart, when all around was gloomy'; 1 prize it as my greatest comfort; when weary and heavy laden on my journey home, it cheers my fainting spirit; its promises assure me of a rest for the people of God ; the page of Scripture opens to my view a better world, where all my sorrows shall be terminated, and a beloved Jesus stands ready to receive me. That this is not an imaginary state of things, appears evident from those ardent breathings of devotion, re- corded in the Sacred Writings. That confidence in God, expressed by the Prophet Habbakkuk, could never have arisen from the form of godliness alone ; the declara- tions of his reliance upon Jehovah, under all the vicis- situdes and changes of life, is a demonstration clear as the sun, that he had drunk deep at the fountain of vital piety, and that his mind was invigorated by the power of religion: "Although the fig-tree shal! not blossom, neither SERMONS. 477 shall fruit be in the vine ; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat ; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls; yet I will rejoice in the Lord, 1 will joy in the God of my salvation." The Psalmist likewise experienced the same seraphic ardour ; the contemplation of divine things so en- gaged his mind, that language, in all its glowing numbers, could not describe the sensations of his soul; his desires after^^God were so ardent that his devotions were expressed in the accents of angelic fervour : *' As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so longeth my soul after thee, oh, God! My soul is athirst for God, yea, even for the living God! oh, when shall I come to appear in the presence of God? "At another time we behold him carrying his pro- fessions of love to the feet of the throne, and declaring in the presence of God the unbounded affection which ani- mated and fired his soul : " Whom have I in heaven but thee, and there is none upon earth that I desire in com- parison of thee; my heart and my flesh faileth, but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion forever." When we take a view of the lives of the Apostles, and consider the cruel sufferings to which they were sub- jected, we must be convinced that it was the power of godliness which supported and upheld them; had they possessed nothing but the form of religion, their hearts would have failed them in the hour of their trials, and they would have shrunk from the tribulation which awaited them ; but when persecution reared her snaky crest; when multitudes who had rejoiced for a season in their light, left them unassisted ; when they who had made the air to echo with hosannas, now cried crucify, crucify them! how steadfast were they in support of the truth ! The power of godliness, like an anchor within the vail, enabled them to ride out the storm, and to seal their minis- try with their blood. Ye who sit contented beneath the shade of a form of godliness, and who deny the power thereof, for an instant cast your eyes upon the martyr Stephen ; see him surrounded by the enemies of the Lord 478 SERMONS. Jesus ! Behold them with uplifted hands preparing the deadly blow ! See him falling to the earth a martyr in the Saviour's cause, calling, in his last expiring moments, for mercy upon his murderers : " Lord, lay not," said he, " this sin to their charge !" Take a view of him, I say, and then ask your hearts whether there must not be some animating principle in religion — some precious corner-stone uniting the believer to his God — some sure foundation upon which to build the superstructure of his hopes? As a further conlirmation of the influence of vital god- liness upon the soul, consider, for a moment, the sufferings of Job; enter the ruins of his once stately dwelling — where are all the children of his bosom? where is all the riches with which he was possessed? Behold the man himself destitute of every earthly enjoyment, covered with wounds, and bruises, and putrefying sores ! When the Almighty had represented Job as one that feared God and eschewed evil, the accuser of the brethren, surveying his wealth, and enumerating his comforts, replied: "Doth Job serve God for nought? Put forth thine hand now and touch all that he hath, and he will curse thee to thy face." To prove the falsity of the charge, and to show the power of godli- ness, the Almighty said, " Behold, all that Job hath is in thy power, only upon himself put not forth thine hand !" Satan then attempted his seduction, but he attempted it in vain; Job stood like the house that was built upon a rock, the storms and tempest of adversity drove him nearer to his God. Yes, though destitute of human comforts, his \inioii with Jehovah supported him; he knew that he was in the hands of a merciful God, and influenced by the power of godliness, he exclaimed, " Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him." Saint Polycarp furnishes us with another conclusive tes- timony in favour of the reality of religion, or the power of godliness in the support of the believer under trials. When desired by the Proconsul, to whose custody he was deliver- ed, to swear by Cagsar's fortune, and to reproach Christ, in order that he might be restored to bis liberty, the aged SERMONS. 479 follower of the Saviour answered : " Eighty-six years have I now served Christ, and he has never done me the least wrong; how, then, can I blaspheme my king and my Sa- viour?" When brought to the place of execution, and when they had prepared the materials with which to burn him, they wished to nail him to the stake : " Let me alone," said he, " as I am, for he who has given me strength to endure the fire, will also enable me, without your securing me by nails, to stand without moving in this pile!" Yes, beloved, he not only met his fate with composure, but as a proof of the truth of what he professed, he declared while in that situation that he esteemed it his glory to die a mar- tyr in the cause of Jesus : "J give thee liearty thanks, O Lord God Almighty, that thou hast vouchsafed to bring me to this day, and to this hour, that I should have a part in the number of thy martyrs, in the cup of thy Christ." To conclude ; In the resignation and triumph of these holy martyrs, we are presented with an evidence powerful and conclusive, that they who are born of God, and united to the Lord Jesus Christ by faith, will be supported under trials, and made more than conquerors over every difficulty. Had they possessed nothing but a form of godliness, the dangers to which they were exposed would have overcome their fortitude, and they would have abandoned without hesitation the profession which they had made ; but that faith which is the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen ; that faith which is the gift of God, to the confusion of their enemies, enabled them to triumph in the flames, and opened heaven to their view amidst a shower of stones. Remember, beloved, that al- though we may never be called to suffer as these holy men; although, like St. Stephen, we may never be stoned to death, nor like Polycarp be committed to the flames for our attachment to the Saviour, still trials we all must meet, so on erorlater. To be prepared for the pains of a dying bed, and for the dissolution of our bodies, is our duty and our interest; remember, then, that the form of godliness will avail you nothing at that solemn period ; what advan- 480 SERMONS. tage will the unconverted sinner derive from the circum- stance of having assembled himself with the people of God, unless his heart has been changed by divine grace, and an obedience to the will of Jehovah has marked his conduct, to say at the bar of judgment, Lord, we have eaten and drunk in thy presence ; our names were upon the record of the Church, and we belonged to such a society of professing Christians ? What will all this avail, unless we add to the form of godliness the power thereof; unless we show the world, and prove to our own hearts, and manifest to our God, that the religion we profess is the religion of the heart, and our faith, that faith which worketh by love? When John the Baptist was on earth, many came to receive his baptism, whose pretensions to true religion he questioned; to oblige them to prove that they possessed the power of godliness, he told them to " bring forth fruits meet for re- pentance, for the axe," said he, " is laid to the root of the tree; every tree, therefore" — call it by what name you please — " every tree which bringeth not forth good fruit, shall be hewn down and cast into the fire." Examine yourselves, therefore, brethren — prove your own selves; nay, I would recommend it to you, to go to the feet of Jesus, and entreat him to search you: " Search me, 0 God, and know my heart; try me, and prove my thoughts, and see if there be any way of wickedness in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." Under the influence of these things, you will advance in the Christian life; you will grow in grace, and in the nurture and admonition of the Lord; your Saviour will support you in the hour of distress; he will go with you through the valley and shadow of death, and at last receive you into bliss, with " Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." SERMON XVI " And he stretched forth his hand towards his disciples and said, Be- hold my mother and my brethren." — Matthew, xii. 49. When we reflect upon those expressions of tenderness and compassion which flowed from the lips of the Redeemer, the gratitude of the sincere believer is most powerfully- excited; the love of the Lord Jesus Christ kindles in his bosom the most rapturous feelings of devotion, and he is constrained to yield him the most cheerful and glowing obedience. Before the incarnation of the Saviour; before he vacated his throne, and descended upon earth to carry into effect the purposes of redemption, he evidenced his compassion for the human family in the presence of the celestial host; to the astonishment of angels and archangels, he deter- mined to avert the wrath of God from a guilty world, and offered himself a sacrifice for sin. When man was involved in misery; when every door of escape was closed; when Satan reigned triumphant, and was exulting in the ruin he had produced ; when the regions of misery echoed with the rude transports of infernal joy; when there was no eye to pity, and no arm to save the apostate children of men, then did Jesus, the Redeemer, offer himself a ransom for sinners, and consent to bear that punishment which would Qq2 482 SERMONS. have crushed in ruin a guilty world. When angels, perhaps, were silent; when their harps w^ere hung upon the willows, at that sad prospect of misery which awaited the descend- ants of a fallen Adann, then did the compassionate Jesus advance before the throne of Jehovah, propose himself as the Mediator between God and man, and declare himself ready to meet the most rigorous demands of divine justice: " Lo," said he, " I come to do thy will, 0 God ; in the vo- lume of the book it is written of me, that I should fulfil thy will, O God! I am content to do it, yea, thy law is within my heart ;" as if he had said, in the volume of Scripture it is written, "That the seed of the woman should bruise the serpent's head;" in the volume of Scrip- ture it is written, that the Redeemer of man "should be wounded for the transgressions of mankind, and bruised for their iniquities:" and that the Lord would lay upon him the iniquity of all the human family. In conformity with these prophetic declarations, he substituted himself in the sinner's place, satisfied the divine justice, preserved the veracity of God, and rendered it possible for Jehovah to be just and immutable in his denunciations against sin, and yet the justifier of him who believeth in Jesus. In the fulness of time, when the important work of re- demption was to be completed by his sutTerings, he left the regions of glory, where adoring seraphs were chaunting his praises, and took upon him our nature. When the cherubic train, animated with his love to man, proclaimed his na- tivity to the shepherds, the Sun of Righteousness arose ; his joyful rays illumined a benighted world, and reflected upon man the light of immortality and bliss. As the Redeemer advanced in life, his conduct formed a conclusive evidence of his benevolence and love ; he went about doing good, imparting vision to those who were in- volved in darkness, and enabling the lame to walk; he preached the Gospel to the poor, and invited the heavy- laden sinner, however complicated his offences, to fly to him for succour. It was in the discharge of this important duty that he SERMONS. 483 was engaged when he was infornned that his mother and his brethren stood without, desiring to speak with him. The multitude imagined that the Messiah's particular re- gard was due to his immediate relatives, and that they, as comparative strangers, had but a secondary claim to his consideration; but that Being, whose sympathy and affec- tion is universal, in language of parental tenderness thus interrogated the messenger, " Who is my mother, and who are my brethren V Art thou insensible to the nature of my office; is my heart a stranger to the wants of any of the human family ; are not all who listen to my voice, and conform to my precepts, allied to me by the dearest tie of affection? Look around you, observe those weeping peni- tents who are lamenting their sins, and seeking counsel at my lips ! It is such v^'ho have an interest in my regard and demand my pastoral care ; it is for such that I have undertaken to labour and to die; "and he stretched forth his hand toward his disciples, and said, behold my mother and my brethren;" in them [ am well pleased; they have taken up my cross, and are pressing toward a better world. As the concerns of eternity, brethren, are of the most lasting importance, and as the least mistake may be pro- ductive of the most serious consequences, the path to hea- ven is rendered by the Scriptures so plain, that " the way- faring man, though a fool, need not err therein." The blessed Jesus, therefore, in the verse immediately succeed- ing tne text, has furnished us with a criterion, by which we are to distinguish his disciples from the children of the world ; and as we are to judge ourselves by the same rule by which we form an estimate of others, it behoves us to examine our hearts with the strictest scrutiny, in order that we may ascertain our title to celestial joys. " Whosoever," said Christ, "shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother, my sister, and my mother." The Christian, who considers the Lord Jesus as an infal- lible teacher, and who receives his declaration as the 484 SEEMONS. standard by which to judge of the pretensions of mankind, must beUeve that the presumptuous offender, the man who habitually violates the precepts of heaven, can have no soHd reason to conclude that he is in a state of safety. He who lives regardless of the Almighty, who tramples upon his authority, and who refuses to live in subjection to his moral government, instead of viewing the Saviour as his brother, has just cause of alarm. The man whose object of worship is the world, whose chief delight is found in the gratification of his passions, in scenes of dissipation, of riot, and of profaneness, cannot come within the description of those who do the will of God. The man to whom the wor- ship of Jehovah is a burden ; who holds no intercourse with the Almighty in prayer; and in whose view the duties of religion possess no charms, can have no claim to the dis- tinguished character of an heir of immortal joys, the child of God. To afFord you an opportunity to judge of your connec- tion to the Lord Jesus, and to discern whether ye are en- titled to the appellation of his mother, his sister, or his bro- ther, I will give you the general outlines of the Christian character ; outlines, brethren, drawn from the sacred wri- tings, and warranted by the declarations of the Saviour himself. One of the first marks belonging to the believer, a dis- tinctive feature acknowleged by Christians of all denomina- tions, consists in a heart-felt knowledge and confession of sin. Thus the Psalmist, " I acknowledge my transgression, and my sin is ever before me ;" " I will confess my trans- gression unto the Lord, and so thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin." Connected with a true confession and sorrow for sin, will be found a disposition to supplicate Jehovah for pardon, and to ask for the assistance of his Spirit to enable the penitent to conform his life in future to the glory of God. Thus, you perceive, that when David was con- vinced of sin he entreated for mercy and forgiveness; " Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy loving kindness; according unto the multitude of thy tender mer- SERMONS. 485 cies blot out my transgressions ;" " Teach me to do thy will, for thou art my God." The same disposition was evidenced by the publican in the temple, " God be merci- ful to me a sinner ;" and by Peter, who " went out and wept bitterly." This act of prayer the believer considers not only as a duty, but views it as his greatest privilege ; to be deprived of that comfort would obscure his prospects and break his heart. Knowing that the Almighty has de- clared, " Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I will hear thee ;" believing that the Lord Jesus has said, "Ask and ye shall have, seek and ye shall find, knock and it shall be opened unto you;" recollecting that the apostle has enjoined him to " pray without ceasing," he engages in the exercise of it with pleasure ; and finds from its de- vout use, that it produces a tranquilHty of mind which the world can neither give nor take away. Another feature in the Christian's character consists in his attachment to the public worship of Almighty God. Jehovah having, by a solemn mandate, commanded an ob- servance of the Sabbath, he repairs to the sacred temple with alacrity, to mingle his devotions with the people of God ; and to worship the father of his spirit, the author of all his comforts, in the beauty of holiness. Instead of view- ing it as a burden, he acknowledges the goodness of God in the appointment of it, and exultingly says with the Psalm- ist, " I was glad when they said unto me, let us go into the the house of the Lord," " for one day spent in his courts, is better than a thousand ;" convinced of the beneficial ef- fects arising from an observance of the Sabbath, he brings his children with him, in order that they may partake also of those blessings dispensed by the King of saints. While within the walls of the sanctuary, he recollects that it is the place where Jehovah more particularly dwelleth ; a solemn seriousness pervades his whole conduct ; he is at- tentive to the word of God as it is read and preached ; he comes into the temple of the Great Eternal, not as a critic but the humble follower of Christ, and his prayers are of- fered up with that solemnity which becometh the house of God. 486 SERMONS. Public devotion, brethren, however delightful in prac- tice, doth not satisfy the desires of the true believer ; when at home with his family — with his wife and children — those dear and beloved objects of his affection, he calls them around him, and trains them in the nurture and admonition of the Lord ; he invokes, with his morning and evening de- votions, the superintending care of Jehovah ; he commits his children to the care of that God whose presence is bet- ter than life ; he teaches them to remember their Creator in the days of their youth, and by his pious example pre- pares them for a better world. Conscious of the uncer- tainty of human life, he endeavours to fit them for the skies; knowing that he and they must appear before the judgment seat of God, he strives to prepare them for that solemn event, in order that with them he may be received into heaven, and, in union with his little charge, sing the praises of redeeming grace. The sacrament of the Last Supper having been insti- tuted by the Redeemer, as commemorative of his death and passion, the Christian embraces it with gratitude and joy ; and at those periods when the table of the Lord in- vites his attendance, he approaches it with devotion and respect. Conscious of his own unworthiness, but confiding in the mercy of that God who instituted it for his observ- ance, he draws near with humility of heart, and eats the bread and drinks the cup, not only in remembrance of the death of Christ, but as a feast to strengthen and invigorate his good resolutions. In the discharge of this particular duty, he manifests his love to the Saviour, confessing his dependance upon bis mercy, and acknowledging him in the presence of the world. Is the believer blessed with plenty and to spare? he con- tributes to the relief of the poor and the distressed. With his alms he clothes the naked, he feeds the hungry, he binds up the broken-hearted, and wipes the tear of sor- rowfrom the eye of the widow and her fatherless chil- dren. In the intercourse which the Christian holds with the world, he observes that steady and habitual piety becoming SERMONS. 487 his connexion with the Saviour. He is cheerful without improper levity; he is happy because he has reason to hope that the Ruler of the Universe is his friend. Con- scious of his own fallibility he feels for the fallibility of others, and throws the veil of charity over the failings of his fellow creatures. He is displeased with sin, but for the transgressor he mourns, and supplicates mercy for him at the hands of God. In his retired moments he embraces in his prayers the whole family of mankind, and supplicates God for those who never think of supplicating heaven for themselves. Is he injured ? You discover in his conduct no disposition of revenge. Conscious of his own failings, he forgives as he hopes to be forgiven. In a word, the light which he has derived from heaven, is reflected upon the world in his general deportment ; that all who know him may perceive that he has been with Jesus ; that he has been taught in the school of Christ ; instructed in those pure principles which distinguish Christianity. Such, brethren, form the characteristic features of the true believer. With such a Being, the Saviour holds the most intimate fellowship and communion, witnessing with his spirit, that he is the child of God, the undoubted heir of glory. In the season of affliction, for affliction is the lot of a) he maintains, through the assistance of divine grace, his con- fidence in God. The winds of distiess may blow, and the rain of adversity may unite in an attack upon his comfort; but founded upon a rock he feels secure, and enjoys that peace which the world can neither give nor take away. That God, to whose care he has confided his eternal inte- rests, prepares him for every event, and will make " his light affliction, which is but for a moment, work for him a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." Death n»ay enter his abode, and rob him of his dearest friends; the child of his affections may be torn from his embrace; the partner of his bosom may be levelled with the dust; but that Jesus, who views him through the medium of fraternal 488 SERMONS. affection, will inspire his mind with fortitude, and enable him to meet his distresses without a murmur. " The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away, blessed, forever blessed, be the name of the Lord." He knows that the separation will be momentary; he knows that the candi- dates which he has fitted for the skies, have entered into rest; he knows that they have exchanged mansions of mor- tality, houses of clay, tabernacles of dust, for an house not made with hands eternal in the heavens. The tomb to him is divested of its horrors — the Saviour has stripped it of its terrific scenery, and planted it with evergreens. He sees inscribed upon its walls, — this is the gate of heaven, the pilgrim's way to Paradise. View him in his last conflict with the king of terrors ; view the Christian, the friend, the brother, of the Lord Jesus Christ, — view him in his last expiring moments. Death to him appears a vanquished foe, spoiled of his terrors by the King of saints ; he addresses the grim tyrant without a fear, " Oh, death, thou hast lost thy sting." His counte- nance speaks the animating language of hope — sorrow not for me, he exclaims to his weeping family, let not your ten- derness detain my ascending spirit. " I have a desire to depart, that I may be with Christ." To conclude. Brethren, we have shown you that love for fallen man, induced the i^aviour to vacate his throne to minister to the wants of the human family, and to open a way for us into the courts of bliss. We have shown you the portrait of the believer, the friend of God, the near re- lative, the brother, the sister, the mother of Jesus. We have shown you the support they will experience in dis- tress, their triumph over death and the grave. Do we wish to partake of the benefits of the Redeemer's mission, and to secure to ourselves an interest in his favour? If we do, we must lake up his cross and follow him in the way. To cry Lord, Lord, he has assured us will not profit us, unless we do his will. (To profess his religion, and to follow him at a distance, will not answer the purposes of SERMONS 489 salvation.) To enjoy his presence, we must make him the man of our counsel ; we must cultivate byjprayer, an inti- mate union with him here. We must deny ourselves every thing which is opposed to the purity of his religion — we must not attempt to reconcile God and the maxims of the world: we cannot serve two masters — choose ye, therefore, whom ye will serve, and let that choice, I pray you, be Jesus Christ. Again. Let us keep in view the uncertainty of human life, and endeavour to live in such a manner, as to secure to ourselves the approbation of God, and of our own hearts. In the hour of indisposition we shall never lament having made those sacrifices which religion requires at our hands. If we separate ourselves from sin, we shall dwell with de- light upon the recollection of that separation when sick- ness and death shall arrest us. Our departing moments under such circumstances, will be composed and tranquil. The Redeemer, whom we have loved and served, will watch around us, and comfort us with the assurance of his favour; and in the last great day of account, he will acknowledge us as the purchase of his blood, and in the face of an as- sembled universe will own us as his people, and receive us into rest. Professors of religion, reflect upon the connexion in which you stand to your Saviour. He views you through the tender medium of his mother and his brethren, a con- nexion at the name of which the heart of a cherub would be dilated with joy, and heaven resound with their anthems of gratitude and love. Support then, I beseech you, by your example, his cause ; adorn the Gospel of God our Saviour in all things ; and " be not weary in well doing, for in due time you shall reap if you faint not." Communicants, behold the altar of your Redeemer pre- pared for your approach. It is a feast of fat things to which you have been invited. Here is pardon for the con- victed penitent, for it is the blood of Christ Jesus which cleanseth from all sin ; here is rest for the weary and heavy 490 SERMONS. laden ; for the promise has been made by him who cannot deceive you; "Come unto me all ye who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest;" here is food to strengthen you on your journey through life; for my body, saith the Redeemer, is meat indeed. The invitation is as unbounded as his mercy, " Ho every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money, come buy and eat, yea, come buy wine and milk without money, and without price." At the feast of an earthly potentate, would the invitation be given to the children of fortune, and confined to those who roll in splendor and fare sump- tuously every day. At this feast of a God of mercy, the King of kings and the Lord of lords, all distinction is overlooked, except that which arises from a knowledge of our spiritual indigence, and a willingness to comply with the benevolent summons; high and low, rich and poor, provided they are true penitents, meet together at the table of the Lord Jesus upon an equality, none of the guests will be consi- dered strangers by the master of the feast ; but if their hearts are humble, and their desires after holiness fervent, they will be received as members of his family, and while surrounding the altar, the Saviour will look down in com- placency upon them, and say, " behold my mother and my brethren." If you wish to form a connexion with one who is able to help you in distress, come to the bosom of your Saviour ; if you wish to secure to yourselves a refuge in the hour of death, come to your Redeemer; come to a friend who sticketh closer than a brother; a friend who will never leave you or forsake you ; if you wish to secure to your- selves a shelter from the storm of the last judgment, come to the Lord Jesus Christ; come to that Being who is ap- pointed judge of quick and dead, and who has solemnly declared, " Whosoever shall confess me before men, him will I confess before my Father, and his holy angels." It is done as thou hast commanded, most merciful Re- deemer, and yet there is room. Lord Jesus, thy message has been sincerely delivered to rational intelligents — these SERMONS. 491 dear people have been pressed and solicited to attend the summons of thy mercy. Still many of them refuse ! Remove, 0 God, remove the impediments which prevent their com- pliance— constrain them by thy grace to yield to the solici- tations of thy love — to break their league with sin, and to accept thy proffered mercy. Now to God the Father. Son, and Spirit, be present and everlasting praise. SERMON XVII " And God saw their works, that they turned from their evil way ; and God repented of the evil that he had said that he would do unto them? and he did it not." — Jonah, iii. 10. The history of Jonah and also of the Ninevites, to whom he was sent upon an errand of connpassiou, contains those evidences of the goodness and benevolence of Deity, which are calculated to aflfect the heart, and to awaken the gratitude of every rational intelligent. On the one hand, the tenderness of the Alnnighty, in de- puting a messenger of mercy to visit a people abandoned to every transgression, strikes the mind with irresistible force; on the other, the forbearance of God to a disobedi- ent, rash, and repining Prophet, awakens the attention, and impresses the heart with the fullest conviction that the long suffering mercy of Jehovah runs parallel with his power. Nineveh was the capital of the Assyrian Empire ; great in the number of its population ; and remarkable for its wealth. The prosperity it enjoyed was productive of all those demoralizing effects which too frequently grow out of such a state of things. Instead of awakening the devotion of its inhabitants, their rebellious practices were in propor- tion to their riches; their inconsideration kept pace with the profusion they enjoyed. Their wickedness was so flagrant and outrageous in its character, that it went up be- sEKMons. 493 fore God, to testify against the people; and to present the charge of their licentiousness at the tribunal of the great Eternal. To this people, wicked and depraved as they were, Jonah was sent by the Almighty with a message of peace. He was enjoined to proclaim their approaching ruin ; but as the sequel of the history proves, it was the intention of heaven that the ruin he proclaimed should be averted, by their repentance and reformation. Their danger was to be presented to their view, before the stroke of vengeance was to be inflicted. The warning voice of a God of mercy was to be sounded in their ears, prior to their destruction ; a door of escape was to open, and they were to be entreated to embrace the proposed deliverance, before Nineveh and its guilty inhabitants should be cut off at a stroke, and plunged in ruin. '' Arise," said Jehovah to the Prophet, " and go to Nineveh, that great city, and cry against it; for their wickedness is come up before me." The danger which awaited the people, is evident from the expression of Jonah's commission. He was ordered to proceed with haste, and to be earnest in his expostulation. His message was to be delivered in the most public man- ner, not whispered in a corner but proclaimed upon the house tops, that every individual might be warned, and be made sensible of his danger. " Arise, and go to Nineveh that great city, and cry against it." Jonah, instead of obeying the command of the Almighty, embarked in a ship for Tarshish; and vainly thought by such an expedient, to have escaped the presence of the Lord. His disobedience arose, as we are informed by him- self, from that conviction of the mercy and loving kindness of the Almighty which rested upon his mind. He was confident that provided the Ninevites should attend to his message and repent of their sins, the Almighty would re- verse the sentence he had pronounced against them, forgive them their iniquities, and subject him to the pain of being viewed as a false Prophet, He had forgotten, that the rr2 494 SERMONS. threatening?, as well as the promises of God, are conditional. He had forgotten, that a threatened punishment is never inflicted, except upon such as wilfully persevere in sin, and that the promises of the Almighty are only made good to those who obey his voice, and practice his precepts. To avoid the difficulty to which he considered himself exposed, provided the Ninevites should repent ; to free himself from the charge of proclaiming a punishment, which would not be carried into effect; he rashly ventured to act in opposition to the declared will of God, and to neglect a duty imposed upon him by the Judge of all the earth. Under this delusion of mind, he took ship, determined to go to Tarshish. But whither could he go to escape the all- searching eye of God ? He took indeed the wings of the morning, with an intention (o fly to the uttermost parts of the sea; but to his astonishment found that the swifter hand of the Almighty had preceded him in his flight, and arrested him in his rebellious course; a violent tempest overtook the ship in which he had embarked; and when the lot was cast, in order to ascertain the individual on whose account the wind and the sea thus awfully raged, the guilt rested upon Jonah. He confessed his sin, and pleaded guilty to the charge. " Take me up," said he, " and cast me into the sea, so shall the sea be calm unto you; for I know that for my sake this great tempest is upon you. So they took up Jonah and cast him forth into the sea, and the sea ceased from her raging." The mercy of God was signally displayed upon the occasion, embraced in this part of my subject. Jonah's rebellion arose from the opinion he entertained of the compassion of Deity, and the expectation under which he laboured, that upon the repentance of the Ninevites, the compassion of the Almighty would be ex- tended to them. Notwithstanding, however, his opposition to the divine command, the mercy he would have withheld from others was vouchsafed to him. Instead of perishing for his rebellion, a large fish was mercifully prepared by the Almighty, in whose bowels Jonah was preserved from SSBMONS. 495 destruction, and again restored to his country and his friends. After so extraordinary a punishment, and so signal a de- liverance, it would have been reasonable to suppose, that the mind of Jonah would have been divested of all opposi- tion to the proceedings of the Almighty; that he would have bent with submission to his will ; that the compassion of God would have engrossed his whole soul, and formed the unceasing theme of his discourse. The sequel of the his- tory, however, proves, that such was not the case ; his rashness was more than once evinced, and more than once was that rashness mercifully pardoned. The commission which Jonah had formerly received was repeated after his restoration ; and he was ordered to re- pair instantly to Nineveh, and to proclaim its approach- ing destruction. The salvation of those people formed the object of the divine attention ; and Jehovah was determined to arouse them from their lethargy, and to awaken them to their danger. In compliance with the divine mandate, the Prophet went to Nineveh, and in the streets of that licentious city announced the impending calamity: " Yet forty days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown." It was not by war, that the destruction of which he spake was to be accomplished ; it was not by pestilence, which would have been attributed to local causes, that they were to be awakened; the moral disease under which they laboured was such as to require the most potent remedy ; the judgment, therefore, was to be of a description which would speak the source from which it came ; the hand of God was to be fully manifested, and the power of the great Eternal was to be seen, and felt, and heard by its guilty inhabitants: " Yet forty days," cried the Prophet, " and Nineveh shall be overthrown," — razed to its foundation — swallowed up. It is supposed, that the mariners who had cast the prophet into the sea, or that Jonah himself, had informed the Ninevites of his former disobedience, and his wonderful preservation ; and that the tidings of his miraculous escape 496 SERMONS. had impressed them with a belief in the God of Israel, and prepared their minds for the reception of his message. The king of Nineveh, as soon as the declaration of Jonah reached his ears, attended to the communication. In token of his penitence, he arose from his throne, laid by his robe of state, the badge of his imperial dignity, and covered him- self with sackcloth ; he ordered a fast to be instituted, and that it should be proclaimed through the city, for the ob- servance of its inhabitants: " Let neither man nor beast, herd nor flock, taste any thing ; let them not feed nor drink water, but let man and beast be covered with sackcloth, and cry mightily unto God ; let them turn every one from his evil way, and from the violence that is in their hands. VVho can tell if God will turn and repent, and turn away from his fierce anger, that we perish not ?" The period allotted for the destruction of Nineveh was at the very door ; forty days formed but a short time for those to live who had never thought of a dying hour, and in whose minds the idea of future responsibility had never, perhaps, for a moment found admission. To be separated • from all their usual festivities; to see their flourishing city overthrown by the convulsive movements of the earth; to see its riotous inhabitants swallowed up, and buried in an instant, formed a consideration which excited their fears, produced a reformation, and brought them upon their knees at the footstool of the Almighty. What a sudden, what a happy change was effected in a few hours ! A whole people, who had never thought of God; a people whose wickedness had reached to heaven ; a peo- ple whose time had been devoted to dissipation, and every excess; to see them change their course of life, disrobe themselves of their costly attire and put on sackcloth, re- linquish their feasts and consent to fast, give up their songs of riot, and with those tongues with which they had offended the majesty of heaven, crying mightily unto God for mercy ! How transporting the scene ! Their penitence was so im- pressive, that the compassion of the Almighty was awakened; fhere was joy among the angels of God ; the destroying •■*■ SEBMONS. 497 angel was commanded to sheathe his sword : " God saw their works, that they turned from their evil way ; and God repented of the evil that he had said he would do unto them, and he did it not." The subject under consideration furnishes us with one continued proof of the forbearing mercy of God, and is calculated to represent that attribute in colours the most glowing; the waywardness of Jonah, and the indulgence with which he was treated, notwithstanding that way- wardness; the sins of the Ninevites, and the pardon se- cured by their penitence, are proofs demonstrative that God willeth not the death of a sinner, but rather that he should turn and live ; that prayer, if offered in sincerity, will be heard, and the sinner be forgiven. We perceive, to our astonishment and surprise, that the sparing mercy of God to the Ninevites displeased Jonah, and produced in his mind the most angry emotions; the fear that his reputation as a prophet would be called in question, alarmed his pride. He had cried in the streets of the city, " Yet forty days, and Nineveh shall be de- stroyed;" and rather than his veracity should be disputed, he appears to have been solicitous, that his prediction should have been carried into effect, though Nineveh and her tens of thousands should have been buried in its ruins: "It displeased Jonah exceedingly, and he was very angry, and said: I pray thee, O Lord, was not this my saying when I was yet in my country ; therefore I fled before thee into Tarshish ; for I know that thou art a gracious God, and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and re- penteth thee of the evil ; therefore now, O Lord, take, I beseech thee, my life from me ; for it is better for me to die than to live." At the first view we take of the rash and inconsiderate conduct displayed in this petition of Jonah, we are led to conclude that a temper so ungodly had never before existed in the bosom of man, and that no individual but himself had ever been displeased by the grant of the divine mercy to the penitent ; but upon a fuller investigation of the sub- 498 SERMONS. ject, we discover that similar instances of unfeeling dis- pleasure are to be found upon the Sacred Records; we perceive the same temper, brethren, manifested during the ministry of the Saviour, by the Scribes and Pharisees ; for when the Lord Jesus manifested his compassion towards pubUcans and sinners, their indignation was excited, and they murmured at the Redeemer's clemency. The same disposition was evinced also in a degree by St. Peter. When he was enjoined, prior to his visit to Cornelius the Roman centurion, to make no difference between the Jew and Gentile, but to view them as brethren, the objects of the same mercy, the Apostle was surprised at the decla- ration of the Saviour, and expressed his disapprobation of the measure by replying " Not so. Lord." The temper under the influence of which Jonah labour- ed, and the prayer he offered up to God, in consequence of the mercy which was extended to the Ninevites, was a temper and prayer very different from that which escaped his lips when confined in his watery prison; in the one instance his own sin, and the distress he suflfered in con- sequence of that sin, made him feel the want of mercy, influenced him to cry unto the Lord in humility of heart, and to seek for pardon and forgiveness in strains of the most humble, ardent supplication : " Out of the belly of hell, I cried unto the Lord ; by reason of my affliction, I cried unto the Lord, and he heard me." When extricated from the difficulty in which he had been involved, and placed in a state of security and ease, he forgot the horrors of his former situation, and instead of rejoicing at the merciful deliverance of the Ninevites ; instead of uniting in that ex- ultation which swelled the bosoms of angels, his indignation was excited, and he presumptuously arraigned the conduct of his Maker : " Therefore, now, O Lord," said the rash and impetuous prophet, " take, I beseech thee, my life from me, for it is better for me to die than to live; for I know that thou art a gracious God, and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and repenteth thee of the evil." The passion of Jonah overpowered his better prin- SERMONS. 499 ciple, and every feeling of compassion was lost in the fear he entertained of being considered a false prophet, in being viewed as the herald of tidings he had not been commis- sioned to proclaim. How unfit, brethren, was Jonah at that period to have passed into eternity ! Had his prayer been heard, his case would have been without remedy ; the measure he would have meted to the Ninevites would have been meted to him; he would have perished forever. The mercy of God is the attribute, brethren, to which I am calling your attention ; and that attribute is again most forcibly illustrated in the condescending goodness of the Almighty to Jonah: " Then, said the Lord, dost thou well to be angry ?" Jehovah reasoned with the Prophet, as the father of the Prodigal reasoned with his eldest son, in consequence of the hardness of heart he evidenced to- wards his returning brother ; his indignation was excited at the merciful reception with which the prodigal had met: " Lo," said he, " these many years have J served thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment; and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends; but as soon as this, thy son, is come, who hath devoured his living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf." This pctulent complaint, instead of meeting with the severest animadversion, was thus benevolently replied to: "Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine ; it is meet that we should make merry and be glad; for this, my son, was dead, and is alive again ; he was lost, and is found." God appealed to the conscience of Jonah : " Dost thou well to be angry ?" " Is thine eye evil, because mine is good ?" Is it a crime to extend my pardon to the penitent ? Dost thou well to be angry ? Jonah, thou knowest that thou dost not well. There is something very tender and affecting in the whole history as it respects the disposition of Deity. If Jehovah could thus condescend to reason with an angry man, we should endeavour to imitate his conduct ; and when in con- versation with those labouring under the ebullition and 500 SBBMONS. phrensy of passion, we should use mild and compassionate language ; knowing that a soft answer will frequently turn away wrath. If the door of repentance was not open for sinners, what would become of all the human family. For it must be acknowledged that we have all sinned and come short of the glory of God. If a door of repentance had not been open for Jonah, what would have been his fate ; presuming as he did to question the rectitude of the divine procedure; and to arraign the conduct of Deity at the bar of his infatuated reason ? To show the prophet his error in the clearest light, the Almighty dealt with him in mercy. Like a tender mother when dealing with a froward and perverse child, the com- passion, and not the displeasure, of God was exercised. To shelter Jonah from the rays of a burning sun, a gourd was planted by the Almighty, whose luxuriant foliage pro- tected the head of the rebellious prophet, and produced in his mind a love for that plant which thus shielded and de- fended him. That his misconduct might be brought home to his un- derstanding, and that he might view it through a proper medium, a worm was prepared to fix itself at the root of the gourd under which he reclined, in order that it might wither and decay. When left in this defenceless state, the sun beat with all its vehemence upon the head of Jonah, and he fainted under its oppressive influence. His unruly temper was again manifested and he exclaimed in displeasure, '' It is better for me to die than to live. And God said, dost thou well to be angry for the gourd ? And he said, I do well to be angry, even unto death. Then said the Lord, Thou hast had pity on the gourd, for which thou hast not laboured neither made it grow ; which came up in a night, and perished in a night: And should not I spare Nineveh, that great citv, wherein are more than sixscore thousand per- sons that cannot discern between their right hand and their left ?" The same affection which the Redeemer entertained for SERMONS. 501 unoffending infant innocence, is here fully and decisively expressed by the Almighty. The Saviour took them up in his arms and blessed them ; the Saviour sat a little child in the midst of his disciples ; he held that child up to their view as a standard of holiness ; and told them that except they became in temper, disposition, and abstraction from posi- tive transgression such as it was, they could never enter into heaven : " for of such," said the infallible teacher, " of such is the kingdom of God." " Should not I spare Nineveh, wherein are more than sixscore thousand persons that cannot discern between their right hand and their left?" The reasoning of Jehovah in this last address convinced the prophet of his error. His murmurings were all silenced. He acquiesced in the rectitude of the divine proceeding's, and bowed with submission to the will, the forbearance, and the mercy of God. To conclude. Much improvement, brethren, may be made of the subject we have considered. Let us attend to it for a few moments. It was a tempest which brought Jonah to his reflection when he first fled from the Almighty ; and it very often happens that it is by a tempest of afiliction, that men are brought to a sense of their wanderings from the path of holiness. It is strange that intelligent creatures should be so prone to rebel against heaven, in the hour of pros- perity. It is strange that at the very moment in which we are surrounded with blessings, receiving at the hand of a merciful God the richest evidences of his favour, that we should be regardless of the hand that bestows them, and live without God in the world ! Yet how often doth it happen that in the season of prosperity we are unmind- ful of the mercies we enjoy, destitute of gratitude, the op- posers of God's righteous laws ! It was the fear of shipwreck which led the mariners to a throne of grace, and influenced them to supplicate the Almighty for assistance. If the sea had been calm ; if they ss 502 SEKMONS. had been favoured with propitious gales, the God who rendered the sea serene, and the \Yinds favourable, would have been forgotten, and their moments passed in profane- ness and intemperance. Often is it so with us, my brethren. It is the tempest of affliction which brings us to our reflection. It is the liur- ricane of distress which humbles us upon our knees, and in- fluences us to pray to God in earnest. The vengeance of the Almighty pursued Jonah for the commission of one sin — the sin of attempting to flee from the presence of the living God. If this was his case, how solicitous should we be, who have often offended the Al- mighty, to seek the pardon and forgiveness of our multi- plied transgressions, without one moment's delay ! The Ninevites were told that in a period of forty days their city should be destroyed, and the ruin of its inhabi tants sealed. They repented immediately; they implored the forgiveness of the Almighty ; they turned every one from his evil way : and they found the mercy for which they solicited. We, my brethren, have no assurance that forty days will be allowed us, in which to repent and seek the Lord. We have no security of living a week, a day, nay, an hour. Are we not trifling with our eternal happi- ness to live in sin, when in a moment we may be cut off" and banished from the presence of God and from the glory of his Christ ? Jonah reclined under his gourd, and sought for happi- ness under its sheltering shade ; the gourd withered in a night, and left him exposed to the burning rays of the sun. Are there not those among us who are reclining under the shade of some gourd, and pleasing ourselves with a long continuance of the happiness and delight it affords ? Is this gourd, I would ask, the society of an affectionate compa- nion? Is it the enjoyment we derive from our children? Oh, remember, that the worm of death may destroy the root of our happiness ; our companion, our children, may feel its desolating effects and wither in our embrace. Lay SERMONS. 503 up then, I beseech you, lay up your treasure in heaven. It is there, and there alone, my beloved, that the gourd un- der which the Christian will recline, shall never wither. It is there that his enjoyment will be perpetual — eternal in its duration. /X. THE END. 65 Date Due r i ' I 1 f PRINTED IN U. S. A. I..W.U ii ijiM II ^}m-umm,uwmmm9m^^mmmm9mKf^