\V>\ ^ . s ^ ^^ .V • i5.>\ THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES ^ ^J^'^.f^^^' SKTCTCH OF TIIU LIFE AND WRITINGS OF A. B. BROWN, DD.LLD, PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH IN RICHMOND COLLEGE, VIRGINIA. EDITED BY Dr. and Mrs. WM. E. HATCHER. WITH ARTICLES FROM IR. JOHN A. ItROADUS, TROF. JOHN HART, DR. H. A. TUPPER, PROF. C. L. COCKE, DR. J. O. niDEN, DR. C. TYREE, PROF. B. PURYEAR, LLD., DR. J. WM. JONES, DR. W. W. LANDRUM, DR. WM. R. VAUGHAN, DR. ANDREW I3R0ADUS, DK. C. H. RYI-AND, REV. WM. SLATE, DR. J. R. TAYLOR, MR. STEIililNS, COL. T. J. EVANS, PROF. H. H. HARRLS, MR. W. C. TYREE, DK. W.^r. E. HATCHER, PROF. O. P. HOLMES, DR. A. E. OWEN. HALTIMORE: II. M. WHARTON & CO., Publishers, Nos. 12G AND 128 W. Baltimore St. 1886. COPYRIOIITKD, ISSC, BY H. M. WllARTON & Co. ^kJ t PEEFAOE. The reader will find in the following pages a simple tribute iVora a loving pupil to the memory of a departed teacher. They have been prepared with no other motive than to embalm some of the fragi'ant influence, and preserve some of the solid work of an eminent Christian and scholar. To those who knew him, one of his greatest charms was his deep interest in living questions, and his incessant activity on present surroundings. As they look back, they most deeply regret that this very habit of mind pre- vented the employment of his pen for the instruction of the future, and makes his literary remains few and meagre in com- parison with the powers of the living man. Socrates wrote nothing, yet his influence has been undying and universal, because his mantle fell upon the broad shoulders of a riato, who was not a little helped by the unpretending memo- rabilia of a fellow-pupil, the practical Xenophon. If this memoir shall help to bring out a real successor, its object will have been accomplished. The volume has grown in the hands of the compiler far beyond the dimensions of her original purpose. She undertook to prepare a brief memorial for circulation among particuhir friends. When her intention was made known, many valuable and instructive contributions were received, which presented in different lights as many striking views of the character and life of Dr. Brown, and it has been no easy task to compress this wealth of material into reasonable limits. This fact will explain also the somewhat iii -J , — ?■■» r"= -^ f^^ IV PREFACE. peculiar structure of the book. For while the papers furnished by others touch the life they portray chiefly at certain points, not a few of them take a much wider range. It has seemed best not to sacrifice the integrity of these tributes to the demands of chro- nological order, as it is observed in the biographical sketch. Therefore even in the earlier chapters will be found some mention of the incidents and allusions to traits that belong rather to the later life. Of the sermons and addresses it should be said that Dr. Brown, while he made careful preparation, never allowed his manuscript to fetter his utterance, and rarely wrote out for print what he had spoken. Many of his best discourses are left incomplete, because he safely relied upon the momentum and the excitement of actual delivery, and the sympathy of his hearers, to make a stronger conclusion and one better adapted to the occasion than he could possibly work out in the seclusion of his study. Such of them have been selected as were in the best condition for the printers, and have been given just as he left them. It remains for me to say that the engagement with the Publishers allowed less than three months for the preparation of the volume, and even this short time has been seriously curtailed by sickness in the household over which the com2)iler presides. It would have been my duty and pleasui'e to render some assistance, but a term of sickness and the consequent accumulation of other work, have left me opi^ortunity to do no more than assist in selecting and editing the material and preparing some portions of the later chapters. Wm. E. Hatcher. II^^TEODUOTOET. The distiuguishing glory of man is freedom. He possesses the power of choice. He is not a puppet, performing in fixed grooves, under the power of an extraneous force. He is endowed with those gifts which render it possible for hira to mould his own character and shape his own destiny. This quality constitutes the lordly element in his being. And it is not irreverent to say, that God treats it Avith the most tender respect. In all of His transactions with men He never ignores their wills. He imposes no duty which they cannot choose to perform, and accepts no service unwillingly given. When in His authority God prescribes a law, it is exactly fitted to human freedom. If we turn to His word, we find that He delights to teach His creatures by example. He throws out before them, men of like passions with themselves, whose lives are illuminated with gleams of His own perfec- tions. When He would set before the world a new edition of the Law, He embodied it in the life of a person, the Son of God. Nothing is so ennobling as the contemplation of lofty character. Its subtle influence radiates in every possible direction: but he who would receive most of its self-perpet- uating spirit, must put himself in contact with it. Common origin, common interests and a common end, serve V VI INTRODUCTORY. to unite mankind in a brotherhood. The eternal bands are around all, binding them closer and closer together. There was a period in the world's history, long after the time that humanity meant a pair, when the parts were diverse and far removed from each other. But the quickening steps of civilization and religion have made them touch elbows in tliis great march of development. Once the thoughts of great men were entombed in languages unknown to the rest of mankind, like the buried glories of a Pompeii — now the bursts of eloquence of an inspired speaker may flasli athwart continents in a day — even his very voice may be transmitted to remote sections, if not preserved for future hearers. The connection between one nation and anotlicr, between one man and another, is most intimate. Not more so, is the vital relation in the material body by which one part is brought iu contact with all its powers, by means of the delicate tracery of nervous organisms. One part or another is important in the universal like the material body, in proportion as it influences the whole. It is only the one who outstrips the others, the advance guard, who is worthy the attention of the student of nature and ai't. Some there are like diamonds in the rough who, on account of certain adverse surroundings, were never set in the kingly diadems that they might have adorned ; and to history it becomes a pleasing task to catcli up the spirit of their lives, and the productions of their genius, to crystallize them into enduring form. INTRODUCTORY. vii History has been often called " Philosophy teaching by example." Every reader who at all comprehended the genius of the subject of this memoir, will see at once, his likeness in the definition. Whether he be regarded as the man with his splendid native endowments; or the man with his great acquisitions gained by close research, and acute analytical processes, he is in every sense a philosopher and a Christian philosopher as well; for Bacon says "the roads to religion and true philosophy are identical ; as the noblest powers of man have to be employed in both." In his character he stands forth a man nobly planned, and nobly developed — and as such, he was in some sense the resultant of the various forces that were brought to bear on him— and a fiictor as well in the mighty temple that time erects; just as every effect is the result of two or more causes, and is itself one of the causes of other effects. By what processes did he reach his elevation ? What were the influences he put in motion? What did he do for the benefit of mankind? These are pertinent questions, which will be discussed iu the following pages. CONTENTS. PAGE. Preface, iii Introductory, v CHAPTER I. Those That Went Before, 9 CHAPTER II. His Childhood Home, 15 CHAPTER HI. The Mountain Boy, 21 CHAPTER IV. Entering the Harvest, 55 X CONTENTS. CHAPTER V. The Hampton Pastor, 74 pac;e. CHAPTER VI. Hrs WoKK IN Charlottesville, 107 CHAPTER VII. The Days of War, 155 CHAPTER VIII. The Country Pastor, 180 CHAPTER IX. The College Professor, 227 CHAPTER X. His Death, 202 His Character, 291 LIFE AND WKITINGS A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. CHAPTER I. THOSE THAT WENT BEFORE. OO deeply rooted in the human mind is the con- ^ viction that talent is transmitted, that the presence of it in an individual is at once the signal for a search for its origin, in his ancestry. Abram Burwell Brown was the eldest son of Martin Brown and Belinda Seay. Of the genealogy of his father, little is known. Sufficient information has been gotten, however, to establish the fact that, for generations, the Browns have been noted for their intellectual ability and love of learning. The grandfiither, Jeremiah Brown, was a Revo- lutionary soldier, of English descent ; was born in Stafford, lived in Culpeper and Fauquier Counties, till the begiiniing of this century, when he moved A lU LIFE OF A. B. BKOWX, DD.LLD. to Amherst, where he resided till his death, in 1846, having attained to the age of ninety 3'ears. He was twice married. His first wife was named Jane Kirk ; and their children were named Willis, Thomas Fielding, Elizabeth, Joseph and Martin, the father of A. B. Brown. Jeremiah Brown, and all of his children were apt and eager to learn, and distinguished for their retentive memories. Elizabeth won for herself the soubriquet of Macaulay, on account of her wonder- ful memory, and power of delineating character. Joseph was a gentleman of scholarly habits — devoted to reading and a charming conversa- tionalist. He was a popular citizen and an earnest Baptist. Martin was perhaps the most gifted of this family. On the maternal side, A. B. Brown was de- scended from the Huguenots. His great-great- grandfather, Abram Seay, for whom he was named, was born in France, went to England to escape the persecution of the Catholics, and afterwards emigrated to Virginia. In order to trace, with minuteness, the influ- ences of heredity, it seems fitting that we look for a moment, at the religious and politicfd con- dition of the country, from which this ancestor sprang. THOSE THAT WENT BEFORE. 11 The middle of the sixteenth century witnessed the beginning of religious toleration in Europe. Prior to this, barring the revolt of Henry VIII., the supremacy of the Pope had been absolute and unlimited. But the clarion notes of Luther had rung throughout Germany, and echoed through the other countries, till converts to the reform faith were numbered, from "Finland to tlie Alps, and Iceland to the Pyrenees." The long-suppressed desire for freedom of conscience had voiced itself, in the valiant defenders of the new faith, till the whole country threatened to be Protestant. The Pope, realizing the decay of his power, called on the crowned heads, to suppress the religious reformers. Everywhere was confusion, disorder, and often violence. Under the wise rulings of Elizabeth, in England, the opposing parties were kept in abeyance, and for a long- while afterwards it was a safe asylum for Pro- testant exiles. In France, where Calvin had been busy propagating the new doctrines, great numbers became converts, among them, many of the nobility. Here was the scene of the direst conflicts. Religious controversy culminated in civil war — the Protestants being the Huguenots, and the Catholics the Guises. Here the wicked 12 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. Catharine de Medicis — the queen-mother, the mention of whose name sullies the pen that re- cords it, as it blanches the cheek of modern womanhood — resolved to exterminate the Protes- tants at one blow, and having summoned them to Paris to attend a ^vedding feast, had the tocsin sounded, that was the signal for the general mas- sacre, which sent seventy thousand souls into eternity in one night; and all this under the guise of religion. Not very long after, there went out from France to Protestant England a young man, Abram Seay, a Huguenot, a scion of nobility, of culture and means. Notwithstanding the general uj)heaval caused by the Reformation, literature had steadily ad- vanced in England, and to come within her bor- ders was to feel her quickening touch. After the turbulent passions of the Protestants and Catholics subsided, differences as to mode of worship sprung up between the Protestants them- selves, which led to the formation of the party called Puritans, or those who desired to be purer and simpler. Rather than submit to forced regu- lations of worship against their convictions, they set out on the high seas, for a home in the great West, where they might enjoy perfect liberty of conscience. THOSE THAT WENT BEFORE. 13 Abram Seay and his wife, formerly a Miss Wil- son, with their three sons, Abram, Isaac and Jacob, with thousands of others who during those years flocked to these shores, sailed for the land named in honor of the Virgin Queen. A trust- worthy tradition informs us that this high-spirited old Huguenot, out of his ample means, purchased homes for his three sons near the James River. The home of Abram, the eldest of the sons, was in Nelson County, Virginia, and was known as the Cove. He married a Miss Loving. Joseph Seay, a grandson of Abram, the Hu- guenot, owned a handsome property on the James, near Tye River. He married a Miss Annie Harvey — an English lady who, so far as can be know^n, was the first Baptist in the large circle of the Seay family. It is worth while here to say that her Baptist convictions were very strong, and slie sought to win the family to their adoption. While unsuccessful in making Baptists of her own chil- dren, she has a reward for her fidelity, in the magnificent Baptist character of her grandchil- dren. One of the daughters of Joseph Seay, was Belinda. She was the mother of A. B. Brown, and he honored her memory, by bestowing the same name on his eldest daughter. Abram Seay, having brought with him, to this 14 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. country, the native refinements in wliicli he had been reared, and the intellectual quickening he received in England, instilled in his posterity high aims and aspirations. The discerning reader, will not fail to perceive in the descendant of this Frenchman, as his characteristics will be delineated, the high-strung, nervous temperament, the hot blood, the high gentlemanly instincts peculiar to the real French nobleman. The descendants of Abram Seay, are scattered through the counties of Nelson, Amherst and Fluvanna, and form a part of the honored yeo- manry of the land — respected for their thrift, intelligence and piety. Joseph Seay, the grandfather of A. B, Brown, was a man of talents and culture. He w^as a teacher, the most of his life. He educated his children and many of his grandchildren. He and his wife outlived several of their children, and took two sets of grandchildren, to train and to educate. He fought in the War of 1812, and died in 1845, having reached the age of seventy-eight years. LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. 15 CHAPTER II. HIS CHILDHOOD HOME. rpHE eastern slope of the Blue Ridge Mountains -*- in Virginia, embracing the counties of Nelson, Amherst and Bedford, has been regarded for gene- rations, as the most fertile spot for the birth of Baptist preachers. The simple habits, honest purposes and pure lives of the inhabitants, to- gether with the inspiration that comes from the beholding of the subhme in nature, conspire to produce this result. The belief that the grandeur of natural phenomena tends to the elevation and expansion of the powers of man, is not simply a poetic idea, but an established truth. A soul brought into habitual communion with God in nature — ^rvdio has the spiritual discernment to interpret Him — will be, in the language of another, " Haunted forever by the Divine mind," and so cannot be utterlj^ debased in life. In a farm-house on the mountain-side, near a dashing stream called Allen's Creek, the subject of this memoir was born. He was the eldest of a 16 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. family of five children. A look witliin the walls of that quiet country home reveals to us first the father, Martin Brown, and his wife, Belinda, nee Seay, and five children, viz., Abram, Joseph, James, Margaret and Thomas. The father, Martin Brown, was a man of limited education, but of good talents, ambitious spirit and pure life. He was specially gifted in lively wit and brilliant repartee. His devotion to his chil- dren was very marked, and he struggled hard, in the face of untoward circumstances, to elevate them. He was a great lover of reading, and suc- ceeded in exciting in his children a love of study that made all of them attain to some degree of intellectual excellence. In one of his addresses Dr. Brown said, " My father loved learning and he loved me, and so he made many sacrifices to give me educational ad- vantages." The schools accessible were few and poor. This country, so young and untried, had not long laid aside its swaddling clothes. The early colonists, having secured their release from Eng- lish rule, had begun to build up an independency worthy of their best endeavors; but the process was slow. Material interests had to precede in- tellectual, forests had to be felled, houses built and mechanical interests encouraged, before much IIIS CHILDHOOD JIOME. 17 impetus could be given to literary pursuits. By many, a common English education was all that was deemed necessary for one Avho did not expect to teach, and so high intellectual advancement was exceptional. In the quiet country home, there were no child's boolcs ; only the weekly newspapers, Avliich were like the Acta Diurna of earlier days. It is said that Abram, at a very early age, loved to read the newspapers and the political addresses of the day. His reading was better suited to mature minds. He was often sent for, to read the papers to the neighboring farmers. He once said to a friend that in his boyhood, he got a better idea of the condition of the country by reading the advertise- ments in the papers, than in any other way — that from them, he learned both the demands and the supplies of the people. With such a thirst for knowledge as he possessed, it was an easy matter to extract it from surroundings. Although his mother died when he was so young, yet she lived long enough to make an ineffaceable impression on her first-born. It is said that the knowledge that a child gains in the first seven or eight j^ears of his life is far in excess of that gained in all the after-life. Cowley, in speaking of the influences of early life on the 18 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. heart and mind of the child, says, " It is like carving j-our name on a young tree, which widens as the tree grows." The mother is the first teacher, and if she does well her duty, there is no power on earth that can blot out the memory- of it. The mother of A. B. Brown was said to be one of the most beautiful women of her day. She was also intelligent and pious. All through life he could seldom speak of her without tears. H^ ever reverenced her memory and spoke of her with peculiar pleasure. The influence of a good and wise mother is illimitable. Some learned man has described a good mother as nature's clief- iTcxmvre. John Randolph, of Roanoke, said he would have been an atheist but for the remem- brance of his mother's teaching him the Lord's Praj^er. What might not Byron have been, with his splendid poAvers under the tutelage of a good and wise mother? Could the son of a woman who died in a fit of anger at an upholsterer's bill do otherwise than give loose rein to passions as she did. The following sketch was found among Dr. Brown's papers : " I was born in Amherst County, Virginia, on October 20th, 1821. ISIy father, quite poor at tlie time of my HIS CHILDHOOD HOME. 19 birth, slowly accumulatcHl property, most of which, how- ever, he lost by reverses before the education of his family was completed. He was sober and industrious, of sparkling wit, eminently genial and companionable, and more self- sacrificiugly devoted to the preferment of his children than any other man I ever knew. My mother was thrifty and of that dexterity and skill in household arts in which the par- tiality of her children could discover the marks of genius. Seate'0T live a moment in a world of chance, and a world of continued miracle would be entirely nnadapted to our mental economy. But we demand the proof that the minutest end of Divine tenderness requires the slightest suspension of the order of nature. Dr. M'Cosh, we think it is, who first suggested the fruitful idea of the accomplishment of special ends, by the exquisite adjustment of bodies and of laws. Let us embody his hint in a conception somewhat different from his own. Conceive, then, the material universe as consisting of an indefinite num- ber of moving forces, or rather moved atoms. What hinders that any particle or collection of particles should have been created at such a moment of infinite duration, and impelled from such spot in infinite space in such direction and with such energy of movement as to reach any chosen point at any given time ; and that any number of particles, or collective bodies, should have been so moved as at any required moment to maintain any desired mutual relation, and to assume as a whole any desired aspect ? One body may be moving in a bee-line to the destruction of another ; a third, charged with the orders of the Ancient of days, may so wing its measured flight as to cross the track of the assailant and lift away the victim in the very crisis of its fate ! Several forces may meet at a required angle and change their rigid lines of motion ] 70 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. iuto graceful curves, or any number of tliem may assemble as relays at appointed stations, and, like steeds of varying strength and speed, wheel the Lord's artillery or the Lord's cars, freighted with mercy, in labyrinths that mock the Calcu- lus. But our conception is too simple. All action, mechan- ical, chemical, or physiological, produces, indeed, or destroys motion ; and, however numerous the impacts on a single body, there is only a single resultant movement. But the bodies in nature are diverse, each order having many-sided and pecu- liar relations to every other. Some brought into new prox- imities, develop sympathies or antipathies that have slumbered from eternity. There will, therefore, be not only the innu- merable original jorojections, of which we have spoken, but the immensely more numerous perturbations due to the action of body on body. The question is not whether it is hard to imagine hoAV God keeps all things in motion without any natural collision, except such as suit a definite purpose towards all, and towards each ; but is it impossible to conceive that w'ith absolute command of time, and space, and degree of motion, God can execute a definite purpose in regard to every particle of mat- ter. It is hard for some to imagine their heads pointing with- out inconvenience in all directions which the rotation of the earth demands. It is harder still to picture a nail in a cart- felloe as never going backwards in absolute space, while the wheel revolves. It is extremely hard to imagine the moon as passing in every revolution directly between the earth and the sun, and its orbit still, as always, concave to both these bodies ; yet all these things so hard to imagine are demonstrably true. SERMON ON SPECIAL PROVIDENCE. 177 It is certainly unpliilosopliical to deny a well authenticated statement, which cannot be disproved, because a faculty, so easily bewildered in trying to follow the track of demonstra- tion, cannot realize it. Philosophers assure us that the perturbations of the planets conduce to the stability of the solar system. Can they assure that these disturbing actions of substance on substance have not been planned Avith a view to flexibility ? The man of science tells us " the Lord's steps are all ordered and they are all steady and strong." " Yes," says the man of faith, " and they are likewise all graceful and lithe." His flexible hand guides the blind atoms through their mazy gropings to their predetermined station in the body of the forest oak. His deli- cate strokes have fashioned the light armor of the electric warriors, and His voice summons by name the picked aerial squadrons that hurl on the devoted tree their resistless charge. You are to-day constituted of innumerable atoms that since the dawn of time have been on their march to their present rendezvous in your bodies ; and notwithstanding their appa- rent revelry of motion, every step has been taken under the eye of the commander and with more than military precision. This, you say, is assertion. But it is assertion, founded on the Word of God, and within the limits of the conceivable. Can it be shown against us that God has not numbered the hairs of the heads of His people ? that He has not guided to its place each droplet of moisture which lends to their gloss, and each molecule of light which contributes to their color ? Is it too much for God to have moved by general laws every minutest 178 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. thing to its present altitude in the face of nature, and to have given to the whole face and each most delicate feature an aspect of benignity to the Christian ? There might be suppo.-ed still greater difficulty in admitting that, the minute plans of Divine mercy to the saints, are not in danger of being disconcerted by the action of rational beings. Shall they not in misguided affection, or in the malignity, or caprice of their wills, thwart the details of the Divine scheme ? Discarding all subtleties about fate and free will, let us take the testimony of analogy on this question. You foresee the movements of great masses of men (quite as well as you do those of great masses of matter). You predict the actions of individuals even more confidently than you do the courses of the winds. And shall not God adjust His plans with reference to the conduct of intelligent beings? You can count upon the actions of men, quite as confidently as upon the operations of those parts of nature, with which you come immediately into contact. General Lee, who with such wonderful prescience, anticipated for so long all the movements of his enemy, doubtless understood General Grant better than he did the weather. A skilful player, not only foresees, but compels the moves of his antagonist. In the light of these illustrations, where is the difficulty of conceiv- ing God as controlling, without direct coercion some steps of enemies, and defeating others? Whether then, God brings wicked men and devils under close investment, or allows them the largest liberty of the field, there is no reason to doubt that He will weave their narrow and SERMON OX SPECIAL PROVIDENCE. 179 malignant wills into the web of His comprehensive and gracious designs. It is delightful to think how God works in our own wills towards inditing our petitions. You will probably pray to-night. God we think, will not absolutely and irre- sistibly, coerce your wills to certain petitions. Yet, He will so flood your mind with light, so quicken your desires, so distinctly present to you what you need, and ply you with such gentle importunate, almost imperious persuasion, that you will say we could scarcely help praying. Certainly if you are to pray ; He knows your petition in advance. He has understood your thought afar oft'. The trains have already been long on the way loaded, with the presents which God's children are yet to ask fur. And my Lord will not delay His coming ! 180 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN. DD. LLD. CHAPTER VIIT. THE COUNTRY PASTOR. rpilE older reader will readily recall the eol- lapsed and desolate condition in wliich Vir- ginia was left by the Civil War. For four years her fields had been trampled by contending armies, and her air had trembled with the roar of con- tinuous battle. Her towns had been transformed into barracks and hospitals. Not only had there been the great battles in which vast armies strug- gled for the mastery, but the raider, the barn- burner and the deserter, had penetrated in almost every nook and corner of the State, carrying waste and wreck everywhere they went. The Southern soldiers, scattered over every part of the State, bleeding with wounds, famishing for bread, and sometimes reckless in their necessities, had joined with the invader in consuming the substance of the old Dominion. When the end came, it was a tragedy ; the star of Southern hope went down in blackest night. The days which followed were so full of bitterness and despair, that many of the older people, stripped of strength and fortune, sank THE COUNTRY PASTOR. 181 broken-hearted to their graves. In almost every family grave-yard, there was a soldier's grave ; sometimes it was the father, sometimes the brother, sometimes the son, and sometimes the husband. Many sat down amid the ruins of the Lost Cause, penniless and dejected, and felt that there could be no future for them. The country home, as if in sympathy with the destructiveness of the times, had sunken to decay. The farms were fenceless and overrun with briars, and reluctant to yield to the touch of its owner, just returned from the war. Slavery was gone, the State was without government or resources ; the people were reduced to penury ; the barns, if not in ashes, were emptied ; the conquered soldier was not permitted to bring home his sword that he might transform it into an implement of hus- bandry. It is enough to melt one to pity and tears, even now, to recall the discouragements under which our men undertook in the late spring of 1865, without suitable utensils or stock, to break up their grounds and set their crops. It is due to them to say, that with heroic alacrity, many of them promptly accepted the situation, went to work, and by indomitable energy, wooed prosperity back to their homes and fields. Those who sulked in despondency and cherished bitter 182 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. memories, lost their chance, sank out of sight and left Virginia as an open field to her nobler sons. It has alread}'- been mentioned that A. B. Brown married in Pittsj'lvania County. At the time of this event, the father of his wife, was according to the estimate of those times, quite a wealthy gentle- man. In a partial division of his property, Mr. Wimbish, the father of Mrs. Brown, in accordance with her owai choice, gave her portion in money, which was deposited in a Richmond bank; ten thousand dollars of which, were subject to her husband's order. Sharing the hopefulness of the times, they allowed this money to remain in the bank, and it was lost in the general ruin which came at last. Mr. Brown entered the army in 1863, and continued in the camp until the autumn of 1864, when he was summoned home by the illness of Mr. Wimbish. lie did not return to the army ; but remained quietly Avith his family till the end of the struggle. His home was situated on the border line of Pittsylvania and Halifax counties, and as his social and pastoral relations connected him with both counties, he usually spoke of the two together as equally his home. For, generations these counties have ranked among the most prosperous and influential in the TPIE COUNTRY PASTOR. 183 State, and have been distinguished for the respec- tability and intelligence of their citizens. They form an important part of that wonderfully fer- tile tobacco garden, so widely celebrated for pro- ducing the yellow leaf tobacco. Owing to their location on the southern border of the State, these counties were not so utterly wasted by the war, as were many other sections. In Mr. Brown's absence, his farm had been cultivated by his servants ; and at the end of the war, he had supplies sufficient for the opening year. His slaves, although liberated in April, 1865, remained with him till the end of the year, and, by their help, he was enabled to refill his storehouses in part at least. To this he added something by teaching a small school. The next year brought upon him severe trials. His former servants, naturally enough, grew weary of their confinement, and went forth to taste the sweets of their new liberty. This left him in an awkward dependency. He was not accustomed to the work of the farm. On account of his fragile constitu- tion, he was poorly fitted for enduring the hard- ships of the plantation, and all of his habits and tastes allured him in another direction. As best he could, and largely without help, he undertook the care of the farm. To those who 184 LIFE OF A. B. BEOWN, DD. LLD. knew him, there would be something incongruous and ludicrous, if there was not so much that was manly and pathetic in the picture of A. B. Brown turning away from his companionship with Plato, Hamilton, and his Greek Testament, that he might make bread, by the sweat of his face, for his famil3^ It will bring a pensive smile even yet to the cheeks of many readers, to think of him as he followed the plow, dropped the corn, planted the tobacco, sowed the oats, fed his stock, watched the weather, and communed with his more practical neighbors about the knotty problems of the plantation. We doubt not that many of the old farmers chuckled in quiet glee at his awkwardness and blunders in his new avocation. They mistook greatlj^ if they im- agined that he did not understand the agricul- tural art. He knew the science of agriculture with a thoroughness that was extraordinary, and while he shrank from the details of a farmer's life, his native wit, enriched by ample culture, formed in his character the basis for success in agricultural life. His temporary divorce from books was like the enforced absence of a lover from the chosen of his heart. He practiced many a pious fraud upon his agricultural enthusiasm by whipping out his Greek THE COUNTRY PASTOll. 185 Testament at the end of the furrow, and taking a sip at the fountain of truth. His old passion for teaching speedily revived, and young men whose education had heen belated by the war, flocked to his house and sat at his feet. The impress which he put upon those youths abides even yet, and is plainly seen in their noble charac- ters and commanding influence. The grade of intelligence in his old community is higher to-day because of the fact that many of its citizens had A. B. Brown for their teacher in their boyhood. But above his love of teaching, was his devotion to the pulpit. Few men ever possessed such sub- lime views of the Gospel of Christ as he had. He walked the mountain heights. It was not long before the Baptist churches in his reach began to call him from his retreat, and he was not unmind- ful of their summons. A lack of space forbids anything like historical sketches of the various churches in his two counties, (for he claimed them both,) which from time to time he served. Their names, at least, deserved to be embalmed in this humble tribute to their now glorified pastor. They were. Mill Stone, Arbor, Ellis Creek, Greenfield, Shockoe and Ca- tawba, County Line, and possibly others. It may surprise some that a man of such sur- 186 LIFE OF A. B. BIIOWN, DD. LLD. passing abilities and almost immeasurable learning, as was A. 13. Brown, sliould be called to minister to country cburclies. In that respect he was a favored man. He had in the citizens which constituted his con- gregations, a higher type of thoughtfulness and spiritual maturity, than is usually found in a metropolitan pastorate. Country people do not see so much as do the town people, but they read, and think, and talk together, far more. They ex- tract more from one ripened sermon in a month, than many clattering and noisy townsmen pick up from the elaborate and stilted services, which are tri-weekly rendered in many great city churches. There is in the country people, a candor, and freedom, and responsiveness, which constitute the preacher's noblest earthly inspiration. Beside, in consenting to be a country pastor, Mr. Brown only followed in the wake of many of the most gifted and illustrious Baptist ministers, who have advanced the standard and enriched the record of our people. Time would fail to bring out even to momentary view our Baptist chiefs, who, in the past — as indeed, many are doing in the present — have eschewed the fastidious and exacting pastorates of the city, and devoted their whole lives to a well-contented service as country THE COUNTRY PASTOR. 187 pastors. There was the Elder Andrew Broaddus, who, in the majesty of his person, greatly sur- passed, as in his graceful and thrilling eloquence, he stood a rival of Robert Hall. He was a country pas- tor, and is it not pardonable to say, that if his son. Rev. Andrew Broaddus, DD., of Caroline County, Virginia, falls below the eagle sweep of his father's eloquence, he is his equal in purity of character, and his superior in biblical learning, perspicuity of speech, and heavenly power to win men from sin to God. He, too, is a country pastor. There was Robert Semple — the counsellor, the organizer, and the historian. And later, in the same region of Virginia, arose Dr. Richard Hugh Bagby — the man of rugged face, but rich in scriptural knowl- edge, and one of the wisest pastors that the Bap- tists of Virginia ever had. There was Barnett Grimsley, the Patrick Henry of the Virginia pul- pit, with a voice of melody, a soul of love, and a tongue touched with seraphic speech ; no earthly inducement could ever allure him from his Pied- mont home and his country churches, to the trying scenes of the city. There was Reuben Jones, just translated from beneath the juniper tree, where he often wept, to the shade of the Tree of Life ; a Chesterfield in bearing, a poet in sentiment, with a soul full of 188 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LI.D. genial humor, and a man of might with men and with God. For the bulk of his long career he was a country pastor. But the forms of brethren now gone, and of those who still live, swarm before my fancy an innumerable host. There they are — the Hern- dons, the Witts, the Leftwiches, the Aliens, the Harrises, the Rices, the Tyrees, the Dickinsons, the Sydnors, the Masons, the Lees, and many, many more not to be mentioned here, whose names are in the Book of Life. I may anticipate what is to follow later on, to the extent of saying, that the years spent by A. B. Brown, in his country pastorate, were the most growthful part of his life. While he kept himself abreast of the times in social and political movements; while he was genial and neighborly, and won the trustful affection of his people, his kingdom was in his study, and his King met him day by day in his closet. Occasionally, he sprang forth to public view, and whenever he spoke, his brethren heard him gladly. With each rolling year, his public utterances betokened the breadth of his research, and the freshness of his thoughts. As he grew subjectively, he grew in true and righteous fame. The people who had been afraid of him, took his measure anew, and saw that he THE COUNTRY PASTOR. 189 was great. Soon after the war, Richmond Col- lege, acknowledged his ability and worth, by conferring upon him, the degree of Doctor of Divinity. Perhaps it will be a friendly relief to the curiosity of the reader to say, that the degree of LLD., was given him by the University of Tennessee, in 1884. When he was offered the Professorship of Eng- lish, in our College, his churches were smitten with distress. They lamented his loss and yet, their devotion to him speedily adopted the generous suggestion, that their loss would be for his good. Every summer when his college work was done, he closed his home in Richmond, and hied away to his country home in Pittsylvania. His annual returns were hailed with joyful acclamation, and his successors, in the pastorate, vied with each other in kindly rivalry to bring him to the pulpits, and have him preach for his old charges. So well content was he to linger during the sultry days, in his beloved Pittsylvania, that it was hard to tempt him away for any purpose, except to plead the cause of Christian education. But we come now to the time when he preached his farewell sermons to his bereaved churches, and set out for that post at which, so lately, so suddenly, and so gloriously he fell. This chapter 190 LIFE OF A. B. BROW\, DD. LLD. must not be closed, until some of those who were closely associated with him during his country pas- torate, have borne their tender tribute to his worth. First in the voices of grief and admiration, which come to us, from the neighborhood of his country home, it seems that, that of his beloved friend and associate in ministerial w'ork, should appear at this point. Tliis is what Rev. Wm. Slate, a man of God has to say : "It will be my purpose to write something in regard to his worth and labors since I hrst knew him. I am glad it has been my privilege to know him for twenty-five years. I have been associated with a good many ministers in that time — I have never known a purer, more unsellish man. He w^as exceedingly liberal for his means ; in fact, I thought him too much so. I have been with him in meetings when different objects w^ould come up, and I knew his condition well enough, to know, he was not able to give anything; but after some eloquent appeal he would empty his pockets of the last cent. I remember on one occasion at^a District Association at Black Walnut (directly after the war) ; his noljle wife gave him money to purchase a vest, and after a stirring appeal by Dr. A. M. Poindexter, THE COUNTRY PASTOR. 101 in behalf of Foreign Missions, he got up and said: 'Here is money my wife gave me when I left home to purchase me a vest, but the vest may go, and I will do without it — and Foreign Missions can have it.' At another time, in the General Association, when an urgent appeal was made for Richmond College, he gave his bond for more than he could aftbrd to do — I told him so at the time — I was fearful it would trouble him to pay it ; and when the note fell due he was unable to meet it, and owing to the condition of the horses, he found it necessary to walk twelve or fifteen miles to look up one of his deacons, more highly favored than himself, for the purpose of getting that deacon to meet his note, and hold it up until his meagre salary was paid in, so that he could refund. Thus, you see he was one of the most earnest and devoted friends of Richmond College. He not only graced the Professor's chair, but every- where he went, he worked for the college; and long years before he was made Professor, he gave his money and labor for its upbuilding. The general sentiment of the Baptists of this section is, that Richmond College never did a wiser thing than when they associated him with the Faculty. " Dr. Brown was not like a good many that could 192 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. see the mote in his brother's eye, and not see the beam in his own eye. He saw his own faults and would admit them and try to rectify them. He was naturally an exceedingly kind-hearted man, and tried hard to help everybody, or give them some word of encouragement. T remember dis- tinctly the first time I ever saw him. I was a poor orphan boy in Meadville, at school ; going to school awdiile, and teaching and doing the best I could to obtain my education. Some one told him my condition ; how hard I Avas working to get an education, and that I wanted to be a minister; and he came round to me and placed his hand on my head, and gave me such w^ords of encourage- ment as I shall never forget. The night the sad news reached me that Dr. A. B. Brown was no more, I could not sleep, for thinking about him and the noble ones that had gone before me — and several times that night I felt like I could feel the pressure of that hand on my head; and hear the words of encouragement he repeated to me then. " Brother Brown lived some fifteen or twenty years in Pittsylvania, near his wife's father. We labored together a good deal, have been pastors of the same churches. Shockoe, Greenfield, County Line, Eepublican Grove, were his churches for some time. In all of these his members were devoted THE COUNTRY PASTOR. 193 to him ; and I hear some of them express them- selves now — they say, truly, a mighty man has fallen — and they say that they feel almost as if one of their own household was gone. It w^as pleasant to work with Brother Brown, he was always so humble. No matter how^ much his speeches were complimented, or his sermons, it never seemed to puff him — and he was the same Brown — and would often say, 'you may think what I said was so good, but I don't think it much.' But the great and good man has fallen. May we all meet in that better land, where parting is no more. u ^^i. Slate." In all the papers that will appear in this volume, this is the only one that comes from the pen of a woman. It is pleasant to introduce Mrs. Mary B. Lacy, the accomplished and consecrated Prin- cipal of South Boston Female Institute : "I first met Rev. A. B. Brown in the fall of 1874. He was then pastor of Greenfield Church, and it Avas in that neighborhood that I made his acquaintance. I had the opportunity, long desired, of hearing him preach. His subject, was the Prodi- gal Son ; his audience an average country congre- gation. His treatment of his subject was all that 194 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. could be asked even of him. I could not restrain my tears, and there were few there who could. In the family circle, at the house of one of his mem- bers, he showed himself the kind, pleasant, sym- pathizing pastor. It was evident from the affection of this family for him, that he knew how to win the hearts of his flock. Afterwards, my husband removed to lialiftix, and we had the pleasure of an occasional visit from Dr. Brown. His name was a household word throughout that part of the county with which I was acquainted, and but one opinion prevailed — that his talents and learn- ing demanded a wider field, but that 'old Halifax' would sorely miss him, all of which proved true. One would suppose that as a preacher he w^ould not be understood by the mass of the people, and, doubtless, in some of his most exalted moments, when the grand reaches of his imagination could scarcely find words even in his vast range of speech, he could not be followed by the majority of his hearers ; but even then, there was always an abundance of thought which could be appro- priated by minds of every capacity. So even the plainest of his hearers was pleased and taught, and all knew and valued his wortli. I have heard plain practical formers, with no school culture, say that they would rather talk to Dr. Brown and hear THE COUNTRY PASTOR. 195 him talk than any other man they knew. He seemed at home on every subject, and he learned from any one who knew more than he did, whether the topic was one of literature, or agriculture, or mechanics. Last summer, at the Roanoke Asso- ciation, the writer heard him at night discussing the difierent modes of flue-curing tobacco, he evi- dently knowing all the theories, and desiring to prove which was the best, from the practical ex- perience of the farmers with whom he was talking. "In conducting family worship, he was often very happy in his remarks on the passage read. I recall now a pleasant scene, his erect figure, his noble head, the kindly glance of his eye, the reverential tones of his voice, as he read the account of Cornelius' vision. How full of encour- agement to our hearts did he show the passage to be. ' We must not limit God's power by time and circumstance. No heart that truly cries to him is turned away.' ' Thy prayer is heard, and thine alms are had in remembrance in the sight of God.' Doubtless in many a home in Pittsylvania and Halifax, these seasons of social conversation and worship are remembered with sad joy. Dear, noble, faithful minister of God, thou art endeared to us not by the splendor of thy intellect, nor the treasures of thy learning, but by thy sincere, un- 19G LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. ostentations piety, and thy kindly interest in all that concern the true Avelfare of others. "One element of Dr. Brown's influence over others, was the respect he testified towards them. He was courteous, and friendly. He had a 'hearty' manner always, and a willing ear even to the plainest, and never seemed conscious that he had a claim to superior attention or respect. Thus he was ' at home ' in the humblest cottage and in the richest mansion. His kindly heart showed itself in his tenderness toward children. The writer has seen him more than once go out of his way to salute most courteously a timid little child, when grown up folks were waiting and pressing to shake his hand. Thank God that such men have lived, and have shown the 'beauty of the Lord' to us. How deliiz:htful the thought that in Heaven we shall have their society, that we plainer folk shall also be glorified, and that we shall be 'like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.' " Mary B. Lacy." Dr. Brown was a conscientious and outspoken Baptist. His convictions w^ere the result of scholarly and prayerful investigation. There was no touch of the temporizing spirit in him. He THE COUNTRY PASTOR. 197 was always ready to utter liis opinions, and to fight for them. But he possessed a singularly enlarged spirit of brotherhood and charity. He could speak the truth in love, and toward those who differed from him he bore himself with a courtesy that was real and magnetic. Men who could not agree with him, could not withhold their respect for his honesty and courage. His relations with Christians of other names, were always cordial and fraternal. As a result, he was greatly beloved by Christian people of other denominations. While he lived in Richmond, his pastor, who was slow to ask him to preach, lest he might do so to his bodily injury, sometimes playfully upbraided him with being more ready to preach for the Methodists and the Presbyterians, than he was for his own church. To this he would reply, " I can afford to deny you, but the other brethren might misunderstand my refusal." Since his death, many beyond the Baptist lines have come forward to honor his memory. I gladly give place to the subjoined paper, so chaste and beautiful, from a Presbyte- rian gentleman in South Boston : "A few weeks ago, when the sad intelligence came, announcing that that good and gifted man. Rev. A. B. Brown, DD., had passed from his 198 LIFE OF A. B. BllOWN, DD. LLD. labors on earth, to the rest and reward of heaven, a memorial nieeting to his memory, was held at the Baptist Church here, at which time it was the writer's privilege to add his feeble tribute to the worth of his departed friend and Christian brother. I consider it a great privilege that I enjoyed the acquaintance and friendship of such a man. Although in the past sixteen years that I have known him we did not meet very frequently, and then only for short periods, from the freedom and cordiality of our intercourse, I think I can claim him for a friend. " I have heard him in the pulpit, as with incisive logic and matchless eloquence he has declared the love of Christ for sinners, and pleaded with them to accept Ilim as their Saviour; I have heard him in the Association advocating the various depart- ments of the church's work; and on all these theatres of his usefulness he was a grand man. Whenever he preached or spoke, he at once com- manded the attention of all, and there were none but delighted auditors. But to me it seemed his genius shone out with brightest lustre, and his soul poured out its highest aspirations, in the social family circle. It may be because here I saw him most, here I knew him best, and here he touched the tender chords of my heart that THE COUNTRY PASTOR. 199 responded with love and admiration. Thus, when- ever opportunity presented, have I sought him there, and listened for hours as the rich store- house of his mind poured out its choicest fruits in words of purest English. As a conversationalist, Dr. Brown had few superiors. There was nothing superficial about him, and he at once impressed upon you that when he took up a subject he never stopped, until he had entirely mastered it, for he would begin with its inception and carry you logically through all its different stages of develop- ment to its highest results. " His ripe scholarship was seen in the fluency of his diction, and appropriate choice of w^ords for the expression of his ideas, and by his wonder- ful powers of illustration. In the discussion of the most profound subjects he could so' simplify that the most ordinary minds could comprehend. While he indulged in no lightness or levity, he could tell a good anecdote with so much point and force that all could appreciate its humor. " His death, at the period of his greatest useful- ness, is a loss to the Christian Church; for the influence of a man of his great heart and broad intellect cannot be confined within denominational limits. " May his life be an inspiration to others, 200 LIFE OF A. n. BROWN, DD. LLD. that we may follow hiin even as he followed Christ. " ' Soldier of Christ, well done ! Praise be thy new employ ; And while eternal ages run, Rest in thy Saviour's joy.' "Joseph Stebbins." South Boston, Va., Dec. 16, 1885. To the foregoing papers, must be added yet another. It comes from the pen of Rev. S. G. Mason, an aged Baptist minister of Mecklenburg County, Va. It is, indeed, a gentle and graceful tribute, and cannot be read without emotion : " I first met Dr. Brown at the General Associar tion, held in Hampton, in the year 1849, and was introduced to him by the late A. M. Poindexter. Bro. P. said to me privately, ' He is a promising young man, and I have secured his appointment as missionary for the Dan River Association.' " It was during this period, that I was called upon to marry him, to the dear young sister who became his companion to the end of his life. We were much together on many important occasions, but particularly at the house of Bro. Poindexter, who was our theological instructor for a number of years. It had been my privilege for more than THE COUNTEY PASTOR. 201 ten years to be under his training, and now my young brother Brown became associated with me, and he, as well as myself, was greatly indebted to this prince of theologians and preachers, for the instruction which he received, and the liberal hospitality and friendship of Bro. Poindexter and his family. "While he was at Hollins we were much to- gej:her also, both at the Institute and in other places. In 1856, during the vacation, I obtained his services to assist me in a meeting at Black Walnut, Halifax. The meeting continued for seventeen days, and was the second best meeting, all things considered, I ever saw. About forty- five of the most valuable and influential people of the community professed conversion, and nearly every one of them has proven, by the fruits of their lives, that their profession was honest and true. Bro. Brown did all the preaching — two, sermons each day, — and they were certainly the finest series of sermons I have ever heard. This was the expressed opinion also of all the people — of all classes and all denominations. We were together all through the meeting, day and night, and never have I known one more in the true spirit of preaching than he was all the time. His ser- mons, while so grand and powerful, were still so M 202 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. plain that the truths of salvation took hold of all classes, young as well as old, unlearned as well as learned. I think he never preached better. He himself enjoyed the meeting greatly. "In 187G we were together at the meeting of the Dan River Association, held with the Winns Creek Church. I was pastor of the church, and, as usual, it devolved on me and the deacons to arrange for the religious services. For the second day we decided that Dr. Curry and Dr. Brown should preach to the crowd at the stand. Brown and myself were together the night before, and during the morning hours of the second day, and I knew he was preparing to preach on some gen- eral subject. Dr. Curry had just preached one of his most eloquent sermons, and w^e wTre all at the stand, waiting for Brown to come on and preach the second sermon. After some delay, I saw him coming np, stepping nervously, and when he reached the stand he said to me, trembling with excitement, * Sing a song, and give me some time to collect my thoughts. They have torn me all to pieces.' The Association had just passed a resolution requesting him to deliver a memorial address, at that hour, upon the life and character of A. M. Poindexter, and he had just been informed of the resolution. I felt the deepest sympathy for my friend, as he THE COUNTRY PASTOR. 203 was SO suddenly called on, without time to pre- pare, and to follow such a powerful discourse as was Dr. Currv's. I was really afraid he would fail. But he had not proceeded far before all my fears were allayed. Well, I will not say that he excelled Dr. Curry in power and eloquence. But certainly he did not fall below him. I refer to this circumstance to illustrate the quickness and power of his intellect when roused by an emergency. "I suppose, as the result of our long and intimate associations, I knew him better than any living man, (if we except, perhaps, Charles L. Cocke,) and I desire to say some things about him. First — as a friend : The man was favored, indeed, who had secured his special friendship; modest and kind, just and true, communicative and confiding, and unchanging. Second — As a gentleman : I have but seldom met with his equal, and certainly never with his superior. Third — as a Christian : so humble and modest, so spiritual and holy, and yet so cheerful and hopeful ; such a lover of Christ and the brethren, such a lover of truth and righteousness, — so self-denying and cross-bearing. Fourth — feut, if I had time and ability, it is of him as a preacher that I would like to speak. I have often said, and still think, that he was the strongest and most talented preacher v/e had in 204 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. the State, next to A. M. Poindexter, and proba- bly his equal. His sermons abounded in the most extensive and accurate learning, the clearest and soundest logic, the most polished rhetoric, and sometimes the most powerful eloquence ; while the subjec1>matter was always the purest theology, and the soundest orthodoxy. In the figures and illus- trations of his sermons he certainly excelled all that I have ever heard : always brief, but as clear as light : no redundancy, and no lack. The view of his hearer was always held to the thought, while the figure and illustration were unnoticed. As when looking on an object through a perfectly clear glass, the object is seen in all its proportions, while the glass is not noticed. "S. G. Mason." LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. 205 FEMALE EDUCATION. The most appropriate topic for the occasion is unfortunately very trite. It has often been discussed with great keennesss of analysis, with the widest comprehensiveness, with the utmost minuteness, and with the amplest wealth, and beauty of illus- tration. My experience in practical education might have been much greater without giving me any special qualification to discuss these topics. The farmer's business makes him very familiar with corn, yet he knows very little better than any other what corn is, and hardly at all better what it is intrinsically worth. The physician has precious little advantage over any other man in defining health, or in exhibiting its value. He would have no eminent fitness to deliver an oration on the blessings of health, though he might in his quiet way do much to pre- serve, promote or restore health, to remove or mitigate pain. The teacher maintains a similar attitude towards education, and has no special adaptation to explain, or urge, or indicate education. I shall not try to escape the triteness of the sub- ject, by limiting myself to the consideration of female education. Indeed I know not, whether there is any other female educa- tion, than the application of a common sexless education to females. The Romans had no word that named an individual, — 206 LIFE OF A. B. BPvOWN, DD. LLD. gender. It is the^atiire which underlies the use of this word, that is the object, or, if you prefer, the subject of education. What if it were true that man's relative stature or weight any individual of the human race, — a word of the common is the ratio of his intelligence to that of woman? It no more follows from this, that he should have another education, than that he should have another diet. What if it is true, that the average male intellect is more characterized by strength, and the female more by grace and beauty, though I incline to think this is not true to the extent those would insist who hastily make the physical form the type or the exponent of the mind. There is much poetry, there is doubtless some truth, in the position, that the mind of woman is in some vague sense the complement of that of the man. It is not true, that either has a fticulty, that the other wholly lacks. Their ultimate faculties, absolutely the same, therefore male aptitudes may be, probably are, slightly varied, so as not only-beautifully to blend, their different contributions in the drawing-room, but to render their interaction at the fireside an almost indispensa- ble utility and not a mere luxury. But whatever differences may exist, will assert, and the more healthily manifest themselves, when these so closely kindred minds are nourished by the same generous pabulum. I confess I never could see the differences, that some seem to find, between the mental organizations of the sexes. It may be owing to a mental defect wliich I have to lament, a want of equal capacity, or even ec^ual inclination, to read the broad label of a class. Take a favorite distinction between FEMALE EDUCATION. 207 man, as a logician and a woman as an instructionalist. If it existed to any great extent, then, indeed the development of a logical power is one of the great designs of education — there would be the less need, and the less hope of female culture. AVoman, it is maintained, seizes a truth by intuition, or an indefinable instinct — does not get by logic, and cannot logi- cally explain it. Man sets out to his object on the logical road, goes often grandly, gloriously wrong. He takes note of his error, tries again in the same highly respectable manner, often exhausts all the possibilities of mistakes, and at least marches regularly, proudly to the truth. The woman is less certain to get there at all. If she anticipates him, as is not unlikely, she reaches the point by a happy guess or divination, if she clearly apprehends it as absolutely true. Now there is precious little truth in all this. Ladies, intelligent by reading, observation and experience, have seldom tite training, in the statement and elaboration of their processes of thought, of highly educated men. But in this they do not materially differ from sagacious, practical men. It was not a woman, it was Andrew Jackson, that said to a friend, " I always knew I was right, but till you explained it, I could never see how." It was not to a woman, but to a strong-minded English squire, that Lord Mansfield said, appointing him to a magistracy, " Pronounce your opinion with confidence, it will most probably be right ; forbear its development and vindication, which will almost certainly be wrong." If there is any essential difference in the reasoning powers of the sexes, if with equal discipline they do not reason 208 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. and elaborate reason with nearly ccjiial patience, dexterity and success, I have not made the discovery. The slight diversities in the operations of their respective faculties render it more difficult to apj)ly a common measure, and decide upon their equality or equivalence. Thus much may, I think, very safely be said. It is too early to affirm very confidently, that there never will be a female Bacon, till there has been, and been for some considerable time, a female Oxford. Woman has achieved great success in almost every walk of genius. The first great lyric that history records, was the improvisation on the banks of the Red Sea, of stern, high- souled Miriam — honored name afterwards, softened and sweetened into loved and blessed memory. And Sappho, desperate from unrequited love, ending a sad life at the " Lovers Leap " in Epirus. She was, with the enthusiastic Greeks, the first muse. A great Poet pronounced her more golden than gold. About forty lines left here, {fre assigned to the brightest page in the Onthologies. For eloquence, most strictly, woman has had no sphere. Though the daughter of Hortensius, pronounced before Tyrannicus an oration, which Quinctilian says, " was long read, and not read as a compliment to the sex." The mother of the Gracchi asserted for women, that superiority in letter- writing, which she has ever maintained ; and she contributed much to the eloquence of her sons. And a similar account might be given of much missing female oratory. Woman, in generous self-oblivion, has ever been con- tributing much to the eloquence of her sons. In statesman- FEMALE EDUCATION. 209 ship, a woman is nothing, unless she is a queen ; and there have been truly great queens. To say nothing of Semiramie and others, about whom there may be, I know not how much of the fabulous. Think of that unlettered peasant girl, after- wards Catharine of Kussia, who greatly helped in the con- ception, development and the criticism of the schemes of the Czar, and long survived him for their successful execution. Think of that great queen who sat on the British throne at the meridian of British enterprise and literature. It has been thought one of the highest gifts of a Washington and a Jackson, that they knew how to form and how to rule a Cabinet. Who has more skilfully constructed, or more sovereignly controlled a Cabinet than Elizabeth, I may not pause, to select a few from the roll of female names that have shone with conspicuous brightness, not in the lighter litera- ture only, but in those more exacting walks of science. It may suffice to say that the time has gone by, when on the appearance of some great work produced by a lady, the remark was made, " She writes very well for a woman." But whatever the diversity of gifts and aptitudes, there may be in the sexes, you need never fear educating any true womankind by giving the girl, the very same education in extent and vigor, which you give to the boy. Not more surely will she appropriate the same atmosphere, the same water, and the same food in the structure of her own beautiful form, than she will assimilate her spiritual element in har- mony and into harmony with her feminine nature. The little girl will be guarded and cautioned with a sedulous, sometimes 210 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, l)l>. LLD. witli a too sedulous care against tom-boyisiii. And as she grows up into society, her tastes, her interests, her whole nature, are a constant and generally sufficient protest against the simulation — it could be but the simulation of a masculine coarseness. But by all means let us avoid the starving of the female mind into a feeble and sickly beauty. Health is not the cause, but the condition of the highest beauty (changed the final word). This is all I deem it fit to say on tlie matter of sex in education (Interposed 1st, my experience in teaching; 2d, female .) What is education ? — I exclude the consideration of physi- cal education — it is the orderly development of the powers of the mind by presenting it to an indefinite extent, with the systematized objects of thought, and fixing in it those objects of thought. You cannot evoke power, without furnishing thought, you cannot exercise power without improving the arrangement and increasing the extent of your knowledge. I fear that certain definitions and descriptions tend to disparage the importance of gaining and retaining the truth. It would appear that everything is to be evolved from within. This view drawn wholly from the etymology, not from the use of a Latin word — is not even, with certainty, suggested by the etymology. A difference of the inflection of the words for educate and educe, though it does not necessarily infer, yet strongly hints a diHerence of radical meaning ; and a very respectable lexicographer does not hesitate to assign to edu- cate, a distinct obsolete root. The two words are sometimes employed interchangeably, FEMALE EDUCATION. 211 and notably, by one author, not of the highest rank, for the rearing of the young ; but neither of them for what we call education in its highest sense. It was stated, not in the form of a personal opinion, but in that of a maxim : " The nurse educates, the j^^daoogue institutes, the master teaches." Perhaps, however, those who remind us of this etymology mean only, that the literal meaning of the word might happily express the true functions of education. Now I shall admit, and even contend, that the chief end of education, is more to develop, than to store the mind. That it is intended to render the mind more like a fountain of living waters, than a reservoir ; made more like an all-producing factory, than an all containing warehouse. Indeed, there is a sense, in which those who make least of the discipline of powers, and insist most on the communications of facts, and fects as individuals, as they can well be conceived, must admit, that the powers of the mind in whatever development they have for the time reached, must alone be addressed ; and information, strictly speaking, cannot be imparted at all. The simplest fact, the signs of which you present by the living voice, must be con- structed for itself, by the mind addressed. Even the li'orary, which, with sufficient correctness, we term rich in thought, is in vigorous language, rich only in the symbo]s of thought, which cannot be decanted, but must be reproduced and inter- preted by each intellect for itself. The memory which plays so indispensable a part in the slightest and most spontaneous advance from first principles, which cannot be forgotten, and constitutes so much of the mind at rest, and scarcely less of 212 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLP. the mind in motion, must indeed be cultivated. But tlie training of the memory bears no necessary ratio to the intrinsic value of the things committed to it. The mother- goose melodies, are in themselves as valueless, as any that can be imagined ; may afford better training for the young memory than a volume of equal bulk, stored with most valua- ble bitter training for the young memory ; than a volume of equal bulk, stored with most valuable recipes for housekeepers and farmers. jNIuch of the discipline of the schools, is wisely adapted to stopping the leaks of the memory, and to enlarging rather than filling of its capacity. Yet it would be most unjust to educators, to say that their instructions are mere Avhet-stones of thought and memory ; the difficult trifles of the Greeks and Romans, the sharpening riddles of the puzzlers' realm of the newspapers. Far, far from it. They have among them mapped the whole sphere of present knowledge ; they have traced the lines of growth ; they are putting the youth of the country upon all, or nearly all, the great roads into its departments ; they are training them to rapid and swift-footed movement ; they are preparing them for the widest outlook over all, and the minutest inspection into any. But we are vexed, that their instructions are not more directly available. Now, it is hard to say, what is the most useful^and available form of a large and diversified provision. I suspect that none of us, are inclined to complain, that all the minerals of the earth are not on the surface, all the fertilizers, in the form of products, and all the products of nature and of human skill, FEMALE EDUCATION. 213 are uot in readiness for immediate use. Education gives us fundamental truths, the skill in reaching which, prepares for their various applications : Compact, portable, general truths, each of which can rally its cohorts of obedient followers. The epitome of truth which it furnishes, necessarily meagre in some directions, in the aptitudes which it trains, and in the readiness with which it can be expanded, is of far more value in the acquisition and skilful use, than a much larger amount of miscellaneous knowledge gained with less vigorous and systematic exertions. The mathematics occupy, and justly, a high position in the general system of education. The vitality of their lowest branches has never been questioned ; their vitality is even much greater as a vigorous drill, in practical logic ; available wherever severe and systematic thinking is to be done, and as furnishing the surest clue for threading the labyrinth of nature. The physical sciences, like the mathematics, besides evoking a high discipline of the faculties, bestow invaluable knowledge, by no means magic in amount, and among the most certain of all in kind. The very best work of the schools, both as a discipline and an instruction, is in introducing mind to a better acquaintance with itself. Mind cannot be vigorously exercised in any direction apparently most objective, without throwing important reflex light on itself. But the best discipline, the best knowledge, is acquired when mind is the direct object of the study of mind. Pope has said, with universal approval, that the proper study of mankind is man. The old oracle 214 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. fixed the very centre of Pope's circle, when it uttered the brief apothegm, " Know thyself." Well, that aphorism is the text of true teachers, however seemingly remote, his depart- ment, from the domain of mind. It is especially the text of the metaphysician and the linguist. And I may add, that the knowledge of mind, sagacity in reading mind, is the hi<'hest degree of common sense. Yet how often is it lameut- ingly or sneeringly said, that the educated man lacks common sense. He may lack special education in many common things, and in many phases of human character, as he will lack many other special trainings. But, if with all the instructions of the class-room, all the associations of the mese- hall, and all the encounters of the campus and debating so- ciety, he is really wanting in common sense, he has carried to college a sad feebleness, or a sad eccentricity of endowment. But the complaint is really of a piece with the derision of the city boy's ignorance of many things common in the country, and of the country youth's greenness and awkwardness in town. The schools put the mind on the analysis of itself, and its own products ; the only analysis which is not dissec- tion, the only decomposition that is not death, but more vi^^orous life. They bid it study the only agent which can busily work and leisurely survey its own work ; the only one who can patiently and profoundly feel and at the same time calmly criticize and record its own emotions. They send it forth acquainted with its powers, the better prepared for all its explorations, but to find, save its greater Creator, greater, nobler, than itself. Him it finds everywhere, but not fully FEMALE EDUCATION. 215 witnessed and imagined in the organ of thought. The study of language, scarcely inferior to mental science as a revealer of the general attributes of mind, is far superior to that, and to everything else, as exhibitor of the details of mind itself and the delicate and subtle processes of thought. Language, considered as to its contents, is all science and all literature, except the literature, if such it might strikingly be called, that is built into monuments, carved from marble, or cast in bronze, or inscribed on canvas, or evoked from tubes and strings. It cannot be studied apart from all contents, and is generally studied in connection with one of the most precious of them. But language itself is the most precious product of human thought, its richest element, the indispensable instru- ment of all its highest achievements, its fitting dress and orna- ment, the almost exclusive channel of its communication. It is strong enough to weigh the most weighty (and the most heavy) speculations of the philosopher, light enough for the most airy imaginings of the poet, as flexible as human caprice, as harsh as the thunders of indignation, as gentle as the tones of love. And what of all human creatures can compare for grandeur and beauty with the word-buildings of the most admired of the historians, and essayists, and poets, and orators ? Language, that suffices for all human revelation, is the chan- nel of God's revelation to men. This is the true Prometheus that has brought down the true fire from Heaven. We are not surprised that nominalists were betrayed into a sort of idolatry of the human mind as God. Who but feels the value of language as an acquisition, and who that has paid 216 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. any attention to the action of liis own mind, l)ut hi^^lily values the (lidcipliue which the acquisition furnishes and implies? My limits preclude further reference to the value of the branches of the commonly received systems of education. I must briefly consider the value of the systems as a whole. A practical view of this value will be gotten by comparing the chances for success — true success — in the life of the man who, thoroughly trained in this system, supplements it, of course, by a special school, an apprenticeship, or an inmiedinte entrance on the practice of a vocation, and the youth who goes with little or none of this general drill to the epecial school, the apprenticeship, or the trade, or profession. It will not be denied that there are educational influences outside of the school, but to all of these the academically disciplined are even more open than to others. Business does not educate dexterities, but evolves mind in all its capacities. But will it do the best ? Let us make a freer comparison. Do not com- pare the boy that goes w'ith enthusiasm into the work of the factory, the counting room, or the farm, and the boy who, feeble or perverse in mind, hearing, a thousand times, that the time spent in school is, for all practical purposes, time wasted, is dragged through a course cursing the day of Caesar's birth, disgusted with Euclid, and all the mathematicians, nauseating all poetry and all science. Of course the boy in business will get immeasurably the best training, mental and moral. Let it be admitted that the average youth, full of mental activity, does not accept the restraints of a business with the highest alacrity, yet, encouraged by its more obvious utilities, he will FEMALE EDUCATION. 217 more heartily prosecute the work of the shop than of the clas?- room. Oh, if the love of science were as easily developed as the love of gain, if the professor had altogether as docile a pupil as the merchant, what might not our schools accomplish ? Sometimes, indeed, there will be awakened a literary ambi- tion, intense above all other passions. But though the aver- age student takes less kindly to his work than the young specialist or apprentice, we may well abide by the results of a camparison between them. At first the recipient of the prac- tical education, so-called, has the advantage The girl who has been reared to industry in the household, will right off sur- pass her who has passed three or four years in the seminary, in every branch of housekeeping. The young farmer of fifteen or eighteen will distance his brother, fresh from college, in all practical matters, from the harnessing of a buggy horse to the pitching of a crop. The young clerk will easily outstrip the young algebraist in adding a column, in calculating interest, in stating an account. Many a lad, with scarcely one hun- dredth part of your graduate's knowledge of mathematics, will bring him to blush in his first efforts in surveying and civil engineering. Only wait a little, and the graduate will manifest his decided superiority. If the business or profession be of any considerable extent, he will have completed his general education, his professional training and gained practi- cal skill before his rival has much less successfully accom- plished the two last. And his knowledge will be more comprehensive and accurate, and, moving less in the ruts of formula and tradition, he will adapt himself more readily to 218 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. the changes now occurring more rapidly than ever, in tlie business of life. He will triumph, in the purely professional contest. And he will do, with less danger of filing himself down, to a narrow and sharp instrument. His skill in his specialty, will be a necessary but small part of a full and sys- tematical development, as a citizen and man. AVe are not imwilling, to compare the scholastically educated man with the so-called self-made men. We might question the justice of the application of the term. The man who uses books and professors to fashion himself, is as well entitled to use names as he who forms himself by any other means. Better, certainly, than he who is drifted by the waves of faction into some especial prominence, or than he who is moved by social cur- rents and ground like a river rock into shape by social col- lisions. But there are many truly great men, who are nothing to the colleges. And America is the paradise of such self- made men ; with its atmosphere exciting universal aspiration, its institutions offering impartially unrestricted opportunities, its primary schools, its pulpit, its bar, its hustings, its newspa- pers, its travel, all kindling and cultivating mind. Now, much the larger amount of original talent must be receiving the extra academic discipline. Almost all the trea- sures of human wisdom are accessible to the self-taught in English; I may not say plain English, for our half- Latin language is not specially plain. Is it not a convincing evi- dence of the superiority of the college discipline, that so much larc^er a proportion of the collegially trained, have successfully appropriated and utilized these treasures. Make the most of femal£ education. 219 the number of wrecked and sunken collegians. Survey for a moment, it can be but for a moment, the multitudinous habits of the self-making. Then count, for you can count the rare few of the self-made whose heads are still above the Avaters of oblivion. And when you find the really great self-made man, does he so tower, as it is sometimes claimed, above all rivalry ? Political life, is the most favorable arena of the self-made man. Here he has some advantages. He is the recognized leader, or rather, representative of the masses. He is what so many men would have been if only fortune had smiled. AVhile it cost almost any body an effort of reflection, to repress a feeling of contempt for the simply average college-bred senator; so many would have outstripped him, if they had had his opportunities. But getting more easily into positions of trust, does he fill them more to his country's good and his own honor? In ordinary times where statesmanship is more a routine, he is less acquainted with precedent, and more a slave of what he does know. In times of revelation and new departures, this original man is less original, and less a master of the situation. It is then that the regularly educated, the Jeffersons and the Madisons, compare most favorably with the most favorable specimens of the self-made — the Shermans and the Franklins. As our industrial, professional and political life, becomes more and more highly organized, highly educated mind is coming more and more to the point. Education mainly develops powers, and trains to their facile employment ; so far as it communicates truths they are truths of wide generality. If the acquisitions of the schools 220 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DP. LLP. barely lived in the iiiind, till it t(K)k hold on the practical employments of life ; after five years of commercial, agricul- tural or professional life, nothing remained but the vigor once acquired, and most applied to different objects, and the better facilities for interpreting other minds, living and departed, the education they impart would be of very great value. It is to be feared, that many quite well educated men content themselves with this simple benefit. Men of great powers immersed in business, suffer even their professional knowledge to lose its roundness and philosojihic arrangement, and keep themselves bright in the facts and doctrines of which they have f. equent need. The scholar finds it at first, less easy than when he left school, to read his Horace ; after a while, too great a labor, to make the reading other than an irksome task, and at last an impossibility, without the renewal of elementary training for which he has no patience, and con- ceives he has no time. Tliis ought not to be. One's education, strictly so-called, ought ever to abide fi»r the needful renewal and completion of his youthful drill. The educated man can no more safely, make the erai^loymcnts of his vocation, or a miscellaneous reading, a substitute for his old curriculum, than the soldier can substitute the battle, or the duties of the encampment and the sentry — fi)r the manual of the cadet and the camp of instruction. This course renewed frequently, returned to, does more fully fur the mind, what the Grecian Gymnasium and fine games did for the body, than anything else. I believe that it is an evidence of increasing success in our current education, that FEMALE EDUCATION. 221 the graduates of the period return with increasing ease and relish to their earlier studies ; and especially to the classics. As more time is given for the vocabulary to imbed themselves in the memories, and to be as permanent there as the forms and the philosophy of the languages — the return will be more pleasant and profitable. What we have once thoroughly learned, if not too long neglected, we rapidly renew, easily retain or easily recover. The second reaping will be scarcely less developing labor than the first, and the aftermath will often be the best crop. Something very like an ideal of what a scholar should have in view, in the preservation and extension of his academic life, is exhibited in the person of Lord Macaulay. After he had long held rank among the ablest debaters and the most brilliant orators of the British House of Commons ; after he had achieved a position above all rivalry, in the foremost literary review of the world ; after he had digested the chaos of Anglo-Hindoo law into a code, which in other merits, and specially in luminousness of method and precision of state- ment, is said to compare favorably with the code of Livingston or the code of Napoleon ; whilst oppressed with the govern- ment of 100,000,000 of India, and under the enervating influence of that climate ; he seizes as a period of only com- parative leisure, and reads from cover to cover. Homer, Herodotus, Xenophon, Plato, Thucydides, all the extant Greek poets; the voluminous writings of Cicero, and all of chief excellence in Roman literature ; much of this he reads again and again. He jots down his impressions at each read- 222 LIFK OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. ing — pronounces his matured judgments, always original and independent, generally brilliant, though not so studiously splendid in his finished composition. Of what incalculable value was an education that made such review possible, and how must the review itself have repaired, polished and tightened up all the machinery of this mighty mind. Compare the course of the same man, in another branch of study. He early took up, and cultivated a disgust for mathematics ; he ■would write to his mother sprightly invectives against a study that would dry up his imagination and convert his mind into an algebraic formula. Of course, at Cambridge, he must have learned a good deal of mathematics, and with a good deal of disciplining on his mind. But he failed of the highest honors of Cambridge, to the deep wounding of his noble and affectionate father, who felt that the failure was solely due to a foolish whim. lu middle life, Macaulay reverts to the matter. " I would not," said he, " turn upon my heel for the honor of being senior •wrangler, but I would give a great deal for some of the mental habits which the gaining of the honor would have established." Why did he not go back to mathematics and get these habits? Why do we not all do the things which we know we ought to do, but which would now require a great labor, and which ■we have contracted a habit of neglecting and disliking ? The relations between education and religion are very intimate, more so than that between education and any other great practical interest. If we were a mercantile association, or a FEMALE EDUCATION. 22?> state grange of farmers, we should feel that general education concerned us, but concerned us in common with all others, and we might well be content to avail ourselves of such edu- cation as society in general should patronize. But in com- mon with all the denominations we feel that education in all its grades has much more intimate connections with Christi- anity. If Christianity is true, scarcely more for its own sake than for the sake of sound culture itself, it should seek to promote the most harmonious relations with education. And certainly it can be most sure of this harmony, when it is most directly the patron of the schools. It is the higher education, however, that most notably affects religion. No difficulty emerges in Theology, which is not found converged in philosophy. The deep soundings of science, bring it into the plane of theology, whether its altitude there, shall be one of deferential co-operation, or of hostility of supreme importance. It is the younger sciences especially that, like some young barbarians we have heard, vindicate their claims to manhood by vehe- ment, if not vigorous, bloAvs at the bosom which nourished them. Though it is at least a presumption for the truth of the Bible, that it has avoided the committal of itself to any scientific dogmas, j^et it is of consequence that the teachers of science be heartily loyal to revelation. Geology in hostile hands will deride it as of yesterday in comparison with her own vast eras ; and Astronomy, from the perch of her dizzying dimensions, will laugh at the littleness of its theatre. Espe- 224 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. cially will an irreverent and destructive criticism of historical myths, aim to involve Christianity and all the monuments of antiquity, in one indiscrimin:;te ruin. But apart fruui all polemical reason, Christianity has a higher interest than any other institution, in the classical languages, the very centre and support of our present truly liberal system of education. I think it will be admitted, that if the spirit of modernism and intense practicalism breaks down classical instruction, the sys- tem Avill fly to pieces, and we shall have its scattered fragments in the form first of polytechnic schools and the arts, lastly of apprenticeships and trades. Who, is so concerned as Hamil- ton has well suggested in these languages. Suppose that the substance of past literature can be decanted into translations, who so concerned as the church in versions of the highest accuracy and in the means of increasing indefi- nitely their accuracy. Look at the present attitude of the Archbishop of Canter- bury, and much of the learning of the Church of England, invoking the scholarship of all denominations in England and America, to assist in improving the version of one single ancient volume. Who but Christians could, or would, or should spend so much time and money, in such an enterprise? Will they finish it? Will they consent to destroy the means of its vindication, its preservation, its indefinite improvement? Never. Christian scholars will ever be laboring to bring themselves, and as far as possible, all others to the nearest earshot. FEMALE EDUCATION. 22.' An extract from an address of Dr. Brown, on Female Schools, made at Warrenton, Va.: * * * It is now high time to help those dear women and those friends of women that have been so h)ng and so gloriously struggling, without material aid, in the cause of female educa- tion. Is it not a marvel that, while no male college is attempted to be run without buildings presented gratuitously, and without endowment, there is scarcely a female school in Virginia which does not pay rent for its buildings, and not one which has a dollar of endowment? The success of the female schools has been little short of a prodigy of financial skill. The liberal and patriotic spirit which has characterized the management of these schools has been more commendable, and equally wonderful. It is no secret that tlie literary department of every female school was formerly (indeed, to a considerable degree is yet) dependent for support on the ornamental de- partment. Yet the managers of these schools have been regularly, at a risk and a sacrifice, changing the relative prominence of these two departments, till the solidity of female education compares favorably with any tuition dispensed in the State. All honor to the men and the women, of all de- nominations, who have brought about this result. To the men of my own denomination who have grandly labored in this cause for the last thirty years, I am bound by peculiar ties. I have been the pastor and co-laborer of Cocke and of Hart. I have been the pastor of Averett, Peuick, Vaughan and '22G LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD.LLD. Lake. If I have been committed to impartiality, it is not the impartiality of indifference, but the impartiality of anxious and sorrowing affection. There has been no unmanly or unchristian strife among them, fur they are brethren ; but there is a struggle for existence. And I must stand aloof with melancholy resignation to the doctrine of the survival of the fittest, which — being interpreted according to true Darwinian- ism — is the strongest. There is one manager of female schools in Virginia who lies out of this circle of neutrality, and of whom I may speak in terms of highest praise without danger of exaggeration. I mean Miss Sallie B. Hamner, of the Richmond Female Institute. A born ruler, a skilful financier, a consummate organizer, a thorough scholar, an accurate and enthusiastic teacher, a model of grace and majestic beauty, she has sum- moned to her aid the unrivalled teaching ability of Prof. Winston and a corps of accomplished and experienced lady assistants. It is well for her that there is now no interdict on the tree of knowledge ; else she might justly fear the fate which Pope apprehended for Lady Mary Wortley Montague : " If our first mother Eve great pain ilid receive, Wlieu only one apple ate she, Wliat punisliment new shall be found out for you, That in tasting have robbed the whole tree ? " LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. 227 CHAPTER IX. THE COLLEGE PROFESSOR. TN the reorganization of Richmond College, at ■^ the close of the war, the old curriculum w^as abandoned ; and in its stead the sj^stem of inde- pendent schools was adopted. Owing to the w^^eck of its endowment, the college resumed work wdth only five professors. But in 1867, Dr. J. L. M. Curry, who at the time of this writing is U. S. Minis- ter to the court of Spain, was added to the faculty, as Professor of English and Philosophy. This position of double service Dr. Curry filled wdth distinction, until January, 1881, when he resigned to become superintendent of the Peabody fund. His retirement was regarded as a grievous loss to the college, and great anxiety was felt by its friends that satisfactory arrangements should be made for supplying the vacancy. The matter w^as placed by the trustees in the hands of a committee whose report was not presented until the annual meeting in the following June. The recommendation of the committee was, that separate chairs of English and Philosophy should be 228 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. establiislied; and that a professor sliould be elected for each. This suggestion of the committee not only commanded the hearty concurrence of the trustees, but found a warm sanction at the hands of the friends of the college all over Virginia. For the chair of Philosophy, Rev. AVm. D. Thomas, D.D., a distinguished alumnus of the college, and of the University of Virginia also, was with great enthu- siasm chosen. The names of several gentlemen of ripest culture, and highest renow^n as teachers, were presented to the Board as peculiarly fitted to fill the chair of English. It so chanced that on the night preceding the election, that Dr. A. B. Brown appeared in the commencement exercises of Richmond College as the final orator of the two Literary Societies. It was known, how^ever, that he w^ould speak under disadvantages, having been called upon but a little while before to take the place of one of the most brilliant orators of the country. To some of the trustees Dr. Brown was so well known that he needed no introduction; but there were others who had never heard nor seen him. Per- haps the w^alls of the college never echoed more thrilling notes of eloquence, than rolled from his lips that night. His address was chaste, compact, discriminating, profound, and glow^ed with a fiery THE COLLEGE PROFESSOR. 229 passion which lifted the crowd into the wildest enthusiasm. It marked him not only as an orator, but as an accurate and well rounded scholar. Even his admirers felt, that he had never done so well before. There had been some of the trustees who, from the time of Dr. Curry's resignation, felt that Dr. Brown above all men ought to have a place in the teaching corps of Richmond College, and were anxious to have him invited to the chair of English. But they had hesitated to present his name, lest others might not be prepared to appreciate his worth. After his magnificent oration, they ventured to bring his name before the Board in honorable com- petition wath others of the highest character. The result was his election — a result which surprised no one so thoroughly as himself. He was no applicant, and had not even received a hint that his name would be mentioned for the place. The new^s of his election was electric. Trustees and other friends of the college were exultant. No man rejoiced over the event more than did Dr. Curry, who expressed the feeling that it was an honor to him to be succeeded in his work by such a noble Christian scholar. It so chanced that Dr. Brown was engaged to dine that day, with others, wdth Dr. Curry; but as the news of his election 230 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. went forth, gentlemen made haste to call upon him to express their satisfaction and urge him to accept the i:)osition. To his surprise, he found himself the lion of the day, and blushed at the out- l)urst of enthusiasm of which he was the subject. A homely incident which occurred at the time, will illustrate the popular delight wdiich w^as excited by Dr. Brown's election. One of Dr. Brown's old pupils, the wife of a trustee of the college, and a resident of Richmond, was an ardent champion of her old teacher. She never grew weary of telling how he taught her Sir Wm. Hamilton's metaphysics, or of urging that the Baptists of Virginia, ought in some w^ay, to utilize his great scholarship. His name was a houseliold word, and even the children had come to think that Dr. Brown was the mightiest scholar of the day. She had a boy, a little up in his teens, who Avas just ending his first session at college. This youth drove the carriage to the Second Baptist Church, to take his trustee father, with invited friends, to dinner. He slipped into the room, to notify his father that the carriage was waiting for him, as it happened, just at the time the election of Dr. Brown was announced. He vanished like a ghost, forgetful of the message and the carriage, double-quicked home, sprang THE COLLEGE PROFESSOR. 231 into the door, threw the house mto consterna- tion, by the wildest shouts — and when called to account, informed his mother of the good news. It has been said, that the announcement, while it quieted the boy, came near to turning the mother to demonstrations equally vehement, if not so noisy. This spirit of rejoicing went afar. The Baptist ministers, and the old pupils of Dr. Brown, the two classes that knew him best, were greatly rejoiced. But after all, perhaps none hailed the event, with such profound satisfaction as the members of the College Faculty. I have dwelt more at length upon this seemingly insignificant incident of his election, than may seem to the reader necessary. It has been done to show, that there was a conviction wide-spread, and deep among the people, that Dr. Brown ought to be chosen to some position worthy of his imperial gifts, and his enriched culture. Dr. Brown was not, in any technical sense, speciall}^ adapted to the teaching of English. He could have taught (and this is not thoughtlessly said) any other branch in tlie college equally well, and some of them he could have taught more easily, because, they lay along the favorite ranges of his life-long thought. This is j)articularly true of mathematics and philosophy. Some superficial 232 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. critics hinted, that Dr. Brown's introduction into the faculty, might become a source of disharmony. It was known that a score of years before, on one or more occasions, his temper had gotten the better of him, a thing which some people could never forget. How little they knew the man ! How little the}^ had dreamed of the complete conquest which he had long ago made over his natural infirmity. How little they understood that reigning courtesy of his nature — that sweet compound of strong self-respect, personal purity, love for men, and yet, richer love for God. He could never have caused strife anywhere. He carried in himself, a modesty which forbade his trampling upon others, and a gentle dignity which w^ould have disarmed almost any form of hostility. In the gentlemen composing the Faculty of lUcli- mond College he found a congenial brotherhood, and when he sat down at their Board, they took him to their hearts. He entered at once into their plans, and became a cordial co-worker with them, in their labors for the college. In his nature he was conservative and conciliator}^ He was }io champion for innovations; what his brethren advocated, he was always disposed, so far as he could, to promote. In a little while, and by no effort of his own, he rose to the highest seat of THE COLLEGE PROFESSOR. 233 honor among them. They were proud to hail him as the greatest of them all — not only in purity and scholarly power, but in the ineffable gentle- ness of his spirit. They saw in him a man, not only wondrously endowed, and amazingly rich in attainments, but yet more wondrously meek, self- forgetful and Chris1>like. The tributes from his fellows, which will appear hereafter, will readily show what the Faculty of Richmond College thought of Dr. A. B. Brown. But the class-room was his happiest realm. From the first morning that he stood before his classes and spoke to them his words of greeting, he was the master of his pupils' hearts. Perhaps the first sight of his thin face, his weird form, and his somewhat faltering and awkward step, may have brought a smile to the boyish faces of his audience. But the kindly flash of his eye, the magnetic ring of his voice, the manliness of his words, and the warm, fresh strength of his thought, showed him at once a man, whom they could love, and must respect. In the matter of discipline, in his classes, he had little trouble. Now and then, a stolid and prankish fellow, blind to the stuff of which Dr. Brown was made, would venture to be impertinent. He rarely repeated the experiment. The indignant teacher transfixed him with a look, 234 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. and scourged him into shame, with the little finger of his power. lie never fretted, or higgled, with a noisy or unmannered boy; he simjoly squelched him by a touch of honest rebuke. But these cases were rare, indeed. In his classes he met young men, who could not fail to respect a noble character. They loved him for wdiat he was, and heard him for Avhat he said. He had an easy task in winning the attention of his classes. He w^as very genial and accessible. He often regaled the boys with humorous incidents, and 3^et oftener with the hapj^y flashes of his owai charming wit. He drew the boys to him by the delicate courtesy and ready kindness with which he treated them. If they had troubles, they knew that he would give them sympathy. If they touched off a little cracker of wit, he was always ready to respond. Betw^een him and the students there speedily grew up a good fellow^ship. He always spoke of them with fondest pride — and they always had the finest things to tell about him. His inlluence, therefore, in the college was healthful and elevating. He talked to the boys on noble themes, and stimulated them to better thinking. But, after all, his strength was as a teacher. He knew how to teach, and magnified his office by THE COLLEGE PROFESSOR. 235 the love of it. He was the master of his work, and made it attractive. He knew how to impart knowledge, and he knew better how to evoke the knowledge of his students. He drew the students out, giving them confidence, by his sympathy, to tell what they knew. He was ardently devoted to his professional work. He was engaged, year by year, in such collateral studies as would help him to broaden and improve his course — and for each recitation, he prepared himself with an ever fresh assiduity. Mr. M. S. Wood, one of the ministerial students, who was a member of his class and in whom he was much interested, says of him : " No one rejoiced more than I did in the election of Dr. Brown as a professor. He had been a visitor at my father's home when I was a mere boy, and I well remembered the impression he made on me then, by the freshness and vividness with which he clothed an anecdote, and by the fluency of his conversation. " Those who did not know him before his com- ing, soon learned to feel for him the affection of a friend, and to regard him as the prince of teachers. " To help others seemed to be his great aim. He never seemed happier than when assisting 236 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. some one to master a difficult task. If a question asked by a student was so unimportant and easily answ^ered that it would evoke the smiles of the class, Dr. Brown alwaj's answered courteously and kindly. But if a student — as they sometimes will — asked worthless and irrelevant questions, with the evident purpose of w^asting the time of the professor, no one could more successfully floor him, leaving him with closed lips to lament his folly, than Dr. Brown. He also won a large place in the hearts of the students by his patient hearing of, and kindly sympathy with, any trouble or perplexity they might bring to him. If he could not remove the trouble, he would so tenderly sympathize, that the student always felt great relief. As a counselor he was exceptionally wise and faithful, having wonderful ability for measur- ing the capacity of a student. I shall never for- get, and trust I shall ever profit, by the privileges I have had of meeting him in private and hearing from him words of advice and encouragement. I felt that no one outside of the family circle had sustained in his death a greater loss than I, and it seems that this was the feeling of all who knew him intimately. I shall ever thank God that he w^as my teacher and my friend. As some majestic oak, towering above the surrounding growth, and THE COLLEGE PROFESSOR. 237 with sturdy arm resisting the tempest's fury, yet affording sliade for the sporting lambs, and leafy branches for singing birds; so Dr. Brown stood, loftily and grandly, amid the great, the noble and the good, and yet drew around him the humble and less favored — and was to them a comfort, a help, an unspeakable blessing. "M. S. Wood." Another student, Rev. P. G. Elsom, the popular pastor of Fulton Church, Eichmond, Va., who was then a member of his class, says : " I count it an honor and privilege to have been taught by Dr. Brown. I was deeply impressed by his willingness to help others, in proof of which I will give one illustration, and could give others if minded. When selected by my Society to be its final orator, and not being at all satisfied with my oration, he invited me to his study, and gave me kindly helpful criticism, and words of comfort and cheer. What we do for others lives. Many will rise up and call this man blessed for his help *° *'"'"^- " p. G. Elsom." No man had a better opportunity of watching the career, and measuring the influence of Dr. 238 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. Brown, at Richmond College, than Dr. C. II. Ryland. As financial secretary of the college, he had his office in the institution, and was brought in frequent contact with him. In the subjoined paper, Dr. Ryland gives his estimate of the teacher, and his work. The reader will find the paper strikingly fresh and suggestive : " When Dr. A. B. Brown was elected Professor of the School of English in Richmond College, it was universally conceded that the institution had secured a master-workman. " Professor Brown was eminently qualified for this position by broad and accurate learning, to which a vigorous and inquisitive mind made con- stant acquisitions. "The college was a congenial home, and afforded the mental stimulus he so incessantly craved. If a Greek class was at work upon Thucydides, that father of philosophic history, he delighted to enjoy it with them; if original examples were pro- pounded in higher mathematics, the Professor of English made their solution a pastime; when abstruse and subtle questions puzzled the class in philosophy, he revelled in their discussion and elu- cidation. It was thus, that in the school of ceaseless thought, he kept his mind fresh and THE COLLEGE PROFESSOR. 239 vigorous, and from deepening fountains drew that wealth of illustrations which so enriched his instructions. " Dr. Brown's thorough knowledge of linguistics made his appointment to the school he accepted, peculiarly appropriate. As teacher of English, he could lay his hand upon the resources of ancient and modern languages, and make them all tribu- tary to thorough training in his mother-tongue. In the practical work of teaching. Dr. Brown won constant laurels. In the Recitation Room he was very popular. He always came before his class the master of the subject in hand, and with a mind overflowing with the richest and ripest results of thorough research. The student felt the mastery and admiration was kindled. But while the pupil saw that his Professor was superbly equipped for his work, and stood before him an intellectual giant, accomplished in the use of every weapon, there was nothing in the professor's bearing to intimidate the most distrustful learner. His man- ner was winning; he treated each man in his class with kind consideration; encouraged the dispirited, stimulated the laggard, and impressed those before him with his genuine and abiding sympathy with them. One of his class said, 'I believe Dr. Brown appreciates a good tliought 240 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. from one of us as much as if he found it in Aris- totle.' This was true, and while there were occa- sionally those who took undue advantage of his kindliness and sympathy, there were many more who were saved from discourao-ement, and stimu- lated to strive for eventual success. " Nor was the Doctor's teaching confined to his immediate classes. His wonderful versatility brought all the college to his feet. He was ency- clopedic, and many of the " hard questions " which arose in the multiform relations of student life, were referred with entire confidence to him. His genius was the admiration of the college. " Two other attractive elements contributed to his success as a teacher : his enthusiasm and his power of illustration. " He loved to soar, but he could plod as well. When occasion required it, he could leave the heights of the philosophy of language for the dull road of rudimentary instruction, — the structure of sentences, the syntactical relation of words — with- out any seeming abatement of interest ; and over both he constantly threw the charm of fresh and appropriate illustration. His philological studies were exhaustive, and he never wearied in tracing the derivation and meaning of words and sur- names. To this he added a fund of anecdote, THE COLLEGE PROFESSOR. 241 which seemed inexhaustible and which was used with skilful tact to render his class-room genial and to point the highest moral. Professor Brown shared in the general work of caring for the spiritual as well as the intellectual welfare of those under his charge. If one taxed his brain, the other weighed upon his heart. Not infrequently mind and heart united to pay tribute to his high calling of professor in a Christian insti- tution. It is the custom in college to have from the faculty and others, lectures on Biblical and kindred themes. When it was known that Pro- fessor Brown would deliver one of these, not a seat would be vacant. The writer recalls his address on ' The Authority of the Scriptures,' as, perhaps, second to no effort of his life in power and brilliancy. " It may not be inappropriate in closing, to say, that in entering upon his college work, Dr. Brown's friends were not without solicitude ; first, in regard to how he would bear the strain which they knew must inevitably come upon his nervous system from laborious, routine work, and daily contact with young men and boys, not always appreciative or studious; and also for his health — never robust. "All anxiety, in regard to the first, soon passed 242 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. away. His college-life was marked by rare equa- nimity, purity, unselfisliiiess and beauty. No teacher ever more successfully won and held the respect and affection of Hhe boys,' while a brother professor could say, when his work was done, ' Both by faculty and students, he was the best loved of us all.' "It may not be out of place to give an incident which will illustrate the affection and deference, wdth which he was treated by the students : One d;iy as he was borne along by the inspiring theme of his lecture he dropped his spectacles. He picked them up and put them on upside down. The effect was irresistible ; there w^as a titter — then a laugh. For the first, and only time, so far as I have ever heard, the doctor lost his self-pos- session and dismissed the class. The room was cleared, but no sooner was the hall-way reached, than the cry arose : ' It will not do ! It will not do ! Dr. Browm must not think we meant to treat him with disrespect!' Three of the older men were deputed to return at once and explain the cause of their involuntary merriment, and ask their loved professor's pardon. When they went in they found him wdtli a look of indignation upon his usually kindly face. But no sooner had their case been presented than he joined in the laugh, THE COLLEGE PROFESSOR. 243 and patting the three upon their shoulders in the most forgiving way, said, ' It is all right — tell them it is all right !' "Anxiety in regard to his health was never relieved. He would say, facetiously, ' I am never sick, and j^et never well,' and by strength of will and great prudence, rarely missed a recitation ; but it was painfully evident that his valuable life hung by a very frail tenure. He passed away on the night of November 27th, 1885. " A hush, deeper than was ever known before, fell upon the college when it was whispered,, ' Dr. Brown is dead !' His grave, in beautiful Holly- wood, was piled high with flowers, the gifts of trustees, fiiculty, students, friends — a mute, but wholly inadequate expression of the bereavement which has fallen upon Richmond College. ''C. H. Ryland." The Virginia Baptist Historical Society invited Dr. Brown to be its orator on the occasion of its anniversary, which was held in Grace Street Church, in June, 1881, during the time of the General Association. The following is the ad- mirable address delivered before the assembled hosts of Virginia Baptists : 244 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. HISTORY AND ITS MATERIALS. It is a true remark, that all literature is in the widest sense, history. It is barely possible that a poem might contain nothing of actual fact, and nothing true to nature. But its emergence into being, at a certain point in space, and a certain period of time is a historical fact. A writer may mis- represent every one else, and everything ; but he is compelled to paint truly, his own full picture, at least, some features of himself and his epoch. But history, though holding relations to all knowledge, has its peculiar department, as differentiated by its own characteristic works. It essays to paint the moving present, in the very gesture of movement ; and to paint it on a stationary canvass, and to reproduce the dead past in the freshness of life. The artist must dissect in his study, but his picture should not smell of the anatomical hall. He must paint the once agitated sea of human passion, but with the obtrusion of no theory of the winds and tides. The reader, or according to our figure, the spectator wants facts in their contemporary relations, and in their causal dependence. To be sure, whether the facts are related to each other in casual sequence, or in true lineal descent, is to be learned from the clearly expressed features of the facts themselves. A pro- found philosopher severely abstinent in, if not totally abstinent HISTORY AND ITS MATERIALS. 245 from philosophizing ; a moralist, whose moral is imbedded in, and not appended to his story ; a witness that gives the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, and never argues a case ; the perfect historian were indeed a prodigy. Lord Macaulay justly says, that we may sooner expect to see another Shakspeare or another Homer. But we have real history and history of priceless value. We should doubtless have had much more history, and history of much higher value, if its materials had been more industriously gathered and more carefully preserved. If in other words, such service as this Historical Society undertakes to render, had been better performed. How much richer had the world been, in real historic knowledge, if the marvelous powers of Herodotus and Livy had been exerted on authentic monuments rather than devoted, in so large measure, to the compiling and embellishing of myths and romances ! It is the function of history, a function often very inade- quately executed, to interpret all other literature, to fix the time and place of its creation ; to account for its possibility and its peculiar physiognomy, to project background, and to hang it in its just light. It would seem for instance, that the unity of the Iliad ought to be one of the simplest problems ; yet, it is to-day, a vexed question whether the unity of great poems, or congeries of poems, is the unity of individual authorship, or the unity of a school of bards. We know further, that Agamemnon and Achilles owed the immortality of their fame to the great heralding, or the great 246 LIFE OF A. B. REOWN, DD. LLD. herald. "We know that subsequent ages owe much to the great poem. We can never know how much of Homer's wondrous riches he inherited, and how much he created ; but history, besides illustrating for Milton and Pascal, a wide range of otherwise unintelligible allusion, debits them with almost their precise indebtedness to the past, and audits and avouches their claims to large and precious contributions, to the language and literature of their respective countries. Great writers are the intellectual legislators of mankind. History gives us the occasions, the immediate purview of their statutes, and the usus loquendi of the very words in which these are written. We have said that every author paints at least himself; but this is to be taken with an important limi- tation. Often a small section of his soul finds employment in his work, or his whole soul operates in a field too narrow to give him full expression. We have a scantling, a precious scantling, indeed, of Euclid's mind, only in its severe but prolific logic, exhibited in a single department of thought. His heart, his experience and all but a fragment of his acute intellect is lost for want of history. Biahop Butler lives principally in a few sermons, and his Analogy, probably the most sober, judicious, accurate and utterly unassailable of all merely human productions in its class of subjects. That his immortal work is not merely the mechanical product of his cautious and powerful intelligence, but the true reflex of his inmost convictions, we make no doubt. But, how fully his entire life conformed to the truth so powerfully advocated, we know not. Compare with him, HISTORY AND ITS MATERIALS. 247 Samuel Joliiison, better known to us in his inimitable biogra- phy, than in his own voluminous writings, far more self- revealing as they are, than those of most authors ; and see the difference between the influence of a great work and a great life, fully presented. It is man that we are most curious to know ; it is man that it is most helpful to know ; man in and beyond his carefully selected self- registrations, in and beyond his more prominent actions. It is man that history attempts to present us ; and for that large class of great workers whose instrument was not the pen, but the tongue of fire ; and Avho have transfused their quickening thought, their constraining will, their kindling sentiment — into other minds and hearts — we must look to history alone. The epic poet justly claims an interest in the great scourges and the great benefactors of the human race. Let him im- agine below the lowest depths of human atrocity, still lower depths ; let him gild the gold which has been refined in the fire of trial and persecution. Yet it is the prerogative of stern, sober history to hang beastliness, falsehood and cruelty in the most torturing pillory ; and place genius, and virtue, and courage on their highest pedestal. History takes com- mand of all truth, and marshals it in procession before us. Science, especially the more exact science, presents truth in the light of the reigning fashion, branded Avith no dates, ticketed with no cost marks — all projected on a near plane which faces us. Truth is exhibited not in tlie intricate, cum- brous — sometimes not very rigorous — demonstrations ; but tersely, methodically, in the light of self-evidence, or in that 248 LIFE OF A. B. BrwOWN, DD. LLD. of the plainest possible logic. The forward school boy passes over in a few months ground which it took humanity centuries to traverse ; sees clearly what the vanguard of human progress saw dimly, or saw not at all. Doctrines, which are the par- venus of the decade, jostle on terms of intimacy through old fiimilies, compared with which the Howards are of yesterday. We are greatly obliged to science for a method of instruction so much to our profit and enjoyment. History comes forward now to restore every point of this projection to its original place. She arranges these truths into corps, divisions and regiments ; moves them back in sections at a time, halts each individual at its place of emergence ; large divisions are sta- tioned at the doors of certain great men, whole armies ai-e halted at certain productive epochs. The whole host is marched back, resuming on the way its ancient uniforms, platoon and an individual resting for review at the appro- priate station, till the whole field of a continuous civilization is echeloned over with the multitude which had just consti- tuted the dressed line of the present. The mathematical column drops out its calculus, its conic sections, its logarithms, its decimal notation, its trigonometry, its geometry, its arith- metic, till the weakened is reduced to the Pythagorean multiplication, preserving to the last its old Greek nomencla- ture. Chemistry soon loses its dizzying array of facts, its wide generalizations, its batteries, its earths and alkalis, and disappears in its wide search for universal solvent and philoso- pher's stone. Geology soon dismisses her scams, her dips, her strikes, her ligands and lichens, and sinks debating (for it is HISTORY AND ITS MATERIALS. 249 the way of the exact sciences to debate), whether she is born of water or fire. But time would fail to follow the procession and witness retiring to their assigned posts the spectroscopes and the celes- tial maps of yesterday, the grand generalization of Newton, the patient and invaluable inductions of Kepler. The sys- tems of Copernicus and Ptolemy tell that proud Astronomy, which some think exhibits the glory of La Place more than the glory of God, dwindles into the speculations and observa- tions of Chaldean shepherds. All the arts are distributed over the past, even those which would seem to be the neces- sary products of human skill, telling a story of incalculable toil. All the political and moral truths, even those which now seem the simplest axioms and tritest commonplaces, reminding us of ages when challenged as wild paradoxes and daring innovations — they are now standing ground with tears and blood. Let them now all be bidden back to their present places, and they will come invested with new interest and new charms. They will come attended with that retinue of associations which makes truth easy to the memory and grate- ful to the taste. They will come back exhibiting direction and rate of movement of each department of knowledge, and sug- gesting to every lover of the orderly progress of truth, where to seek employment. And I suspect they will teach as em- phatically as anything else that history, so hateful to every other branch of knowledge, itself n-ust needs to be helped. And Clio, the muse of History, is more than ever calling, and calling not in vain, for aid from all her sisters. She 250 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. summous Philosophy as an expert, presents her the names of ancient rivers and mountains, and takes her confirming or re- butting testimony on the migrations and settlements of ancient races. She appeals to Geology and Meteorology to know whether the denuded and barren slopes of Palestine could ever have exulted in a fertility and beauty which extorted the unwilling admiration of the naturalist Strabo, and the prophet Balaam. She studiously examines the models of ancient ships, finds how many points they could sail against the wind, questions wit- nesses on the habits of the capricious currents of the air, inspects the recorded accurate soundings of the British Navy, and then describes with utmost precision the drifting on the Mediterranean of an Alexandrian corn-ship, which could not sink with a greater than Caesar on board, and its going to pieces in a vain struggle with the tenacious anchorages of the harbor of Malta. "We are glad that modern historians are scanning the past with severe criticism. Even their hypercriticism, though not to their honor, is overruled for good. Science and scientific criticism bring out some new truth, cor- roborate much more old truth, and explode much more old error. Of necessity this criticism can more easily tell what could not have been than what was. It is mainly nt^gativc, and has been correctly named destructive criticism. So much professed history, in which truth and fiction mingled in tantalizing pro- portions, invited rigid examination ; and the skeptical criticism developing its methods and sharpening its instruments by prac- tice on the myths of profane history, confidently turned them against the fundamental monuments of Christianity. And Chris- HISTORY AND ITS MATERIALS. 251 tianity welcomed the examination with dignified confidence; submitted to pert and irreverent questioning ; courted a search into her inmost sanctities ; pressingly invited a hostile investiga- tion, to walk about Zion, count her tombs and mark well her bul- warks. Her confidence has been justified ; her ancient monu- ments have defied hostile criticism. By this time the world ought to be satisfied that the Church is fiaunded upon a rock. The same opposition to evangelical truth, which assailed it at its birth, is still maintained. But apart from this, mankind appears more determined than ever to know the precise truth on every subject. The physical sciences, which are more than ever studied, furnish mathematical or experimental demonstra- tion. It is not strange that the habit should be formed of demanding in other departments of knowledge, an evidence which the volume of the case does not furnish, and especially the truth of history. A philosophical system utterly ground- less, may as vigorously, though hardly as healthfully, exercise the mind as one embodying the truth. A novel may present us, in a new ideal aspect, facts of human nature familiar to our experience and observation, it may formulate our know- ledge in striking and convenient expression, and even make some contribution to the actual development of that know- ledge. It would be absurd to draw one's facts from a novel, instead of bringing the novel to the standard of known facts. But falser than any romance, except a political novel, which appeals to the prejudices of the distant readers for its general con- formity to truth, and which evades responsibility for the special form of the libel by pleading poetic license, nothing can be 252 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. more misleading than much tliat passes under the name of history. A romance which should project the essential ele- ments of life in its own age upon a distant place and time, would be less erroneous than a grave history recording what neither happened nor could happen at any period. The light which shines upon the present and the near future, issues mainly from the past. If, then, our light be darkness, how fatal is that darkness. False history is a false chart, and false sailing directions — a wrecker holding out deceitful beacons. Yet there have been eras when fictitious or uncer- tain history was followed with a reverence not due to the real. The present is never the servile imitator of the past. History never fully reproduces itself, and therefore much sagacity is needed in adapting its instructions to present use. Yet the precedents of a history in which fable and truth have been indiscriminately blended, have been the rigid formulas according to which the statesmen of routine have essayed to bleed again, and blister again, into health, the body politic. In days not very long since past, mankind seemed to prefer for their guidance as well as their amusement, the legends of heroes and demi-gods to the well-vouched experiences of their fathers. Almost every line which the eloquent and graceful Livy wrote on the traditions of ancient Rome, survives. Almost all the labor he bestowed on its really historic periods, has been labor utterly lost. We rejoice that a new attitude has been assumed toward the past, that while modern civilization is cultivating a most affectionate interest in the explorations of the mounds of western America, and in the excavations of HISTORY AND ITS MATERIALS. 253 Babylon and Troy, it is subjecting their revelations to tests as varied and as rigid as those of the la;boratory ; and Ave rejoice that in the nearly hopeless search for the distant past, they are not neglecting as soon as the life is fairly out of the present, to embalm it for eternal preservation. The recent movements to organize effort for securing the material of history, are all the more hopeful, as they are but one branch of a much Avider enterprise, whose interaction will help to sustain them. The bureaus of Washington City are plying the farmers of the country with questions calling out facts, in aid of a more exhaustive and scientific treatment of agriculture. They are imploring every old man of leisure to furnish them the daily range of his thermometer, and the hourly shiftings of his weather-cock. They would set every idle boy to recording birds and caterpillars, and forwarding his observations. They supply every vessel, that sails to distant coasts, with bottles to be dropped into the sea Avith a sealed statement of the place and the time, that their floating may indicate the drift of the currents of the ocean. While around us there is the stir of a concerted effort to gather and sift, and co-ordinate and generalize facts, for the guidance of the future ; it is timely, it is seemly, that the Christian Church should take her appropriate part in a great movement. The ship that bears so much precious life, and so much precious freight, should be careful in her sounding, incessant in obser- vations, and scrupulous and accurate in keeping her log- book. And yet, Christianity, Avhich has preserA^ed in her libraries, almost all that has been preserved of Pagan Greece 254 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. and Rome, has been less careful of her own history, thnn of anything else. We find no regular attempt at church history till after the Council of Nice, in the fourth century ; before this, there were great, rapid and wholly silent revolutions in the form and spirit of Christianity. It is really wonderful, that while the Church was engaged in questions about the person of our Lord; questions, many of them altogether frivolous and presumptuous, and questions about the proper time of Easter, as trifling as the Big Indian and Little Indian controversy of the Lilliputians ; a deluge of change passed unrecorded over the early simplicity of religion. We should be compelled to admit, that the Christianity of the fourth, fifth and sixth centuries was primitive Christianity, if this did not involve, that there was in the apostolic age, a body of un- written truth, wholly distinct from the written ; and incon- sistent, indeed incompatible with it. And while it is easy to show that there were innovations, we are at great disadvantage in meeting them, from the silence of history. LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. 255 A PART OF AN ADDRESS ON THE ADVANTAGES OF A COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. I PROPOSE to maiutain before you, ray hearers, the supe- riority of thorough collegiate traiuiug over every other, as a preparation for any profession, business, trade — in a word for any legitimate walk in life except, per/iaps, the very lowest. I admit in this statement, that scholastic and collegiate edu- cation is not the only mode of communicating useful know- ledge, and the sole discipline of mental power. The mind is endowed in varying, but generally in large degree, with spontaneous activity. It can never be exerted without the development of power ; and it is surrounded by objects which solicit, encourage, tax and reward it. It thus develops power and gains truth. It scarcely makes any effort without acquir- ing more or less of knowledge. It never acquires any know- ledge without the exercise and increase of its own vigor ; this last statement might seem too strong. Knowledge radiates in upon us ; so quiet and facile at times is the acquisition, especially the youthful acquisition of knowledge, that we are inclined to pronounce it a merely passive absorption. It is never so. The mind must actively construe every sign of thought, interpret every word, judge every utterance. And with whatever apparent unconsciousness, and however 256 LIFE OF A. B. BEOWN, DD. LLD. mechanically, the association of ideas may sort out our new impressions, for their places in the memory, the Avill is every- where active in forming our hahits of thought, and in co-ordi- nating our attainments. And this involves that every mind tends to self-evolution, that every man is in some degree, self-made, and that mental training takes care of itself; as the boy's tune whistled itself. But such mental unfolding is quite too easy, quite too feeble to qualify for the stern problems of life. Every mind is active, but probably no mind takes naturally to hard work. Repeated instructions, patient inculcations of lessons, along with something of restraint and constraint, are necessary to evoke any mental exercise beyond mere play. And where laborious teaching is done apart from the methods of the schools ; where tasks are imposed and some regularity of exertion, Avithin the competence of early life is required; the teaching is too desultory, occasional and miscellaneous, and the exertion soon becomes too easy to tax any, and too narrow to call out all of the powers of the mind. The school, especially the higher school, presents to the mind lessons which are models of luminous method, arranged on an ascending scale of difficulty — lessons which awaken and repay curiosity, which stimulate and constrain effort, and Avhich suggest unfailing tests of successful effort. And not only does it expand and sharpen the mind by the irapartation of wide spheres of generalized, and systematized truth ; but more and more as the course extends it cultivates those powers of analysis, induction and deduction, which qualify for the independent COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 257 investigation, and elaboration of any and all truth. Let us enter a very little into detail. It teaches more thoroughly than can be acquired anywhere else, the prompt, facile and adequate interpretation of language, in which is recorded all the surviving product of human thought, all the extant experience of the human race. It presents for arduous and invigorating study, language, itself the most wondrous and the most valuable creation of man's skill ; language adjusting with almost infinite flexibility, to every mode and every act of consciousness ; supporting science in every step of her rigorous and subtle reasoning, and in every flight of her soaring speculation ; painting the poet's lightest dream ; launching the bolt and thundering the peal of the orator's indignation, and breathing in gentlest accents the mother's and the maiden's love. What power is involved in the accurate interpretation of another's thought and in the ade- quate expression of one's own ! But this is not all. It is not half. If not all thought, certainly all clear and continuous thought, is dependent on language. Language and reasoning are not identical, but they are practically inseparable. Sir William Hamilton has well said that thought may be, indeed must be, a little ahead of language, but language must follow close on its heels to bind its harvests into bundles. Changing the figure. Thinking is like tunneling a sand-bank. The spade reaches a little beyond the supporting framework, but no secure progress is made unless the timber or masonry closely follow to shove up every foot of the advance. Thought may skirmish in front — 258 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. nay, may gain some indecisive victories — but words must follow hard to hold the ground. What a ludicrous but natural mistake in him who supposed that Jemmy O'Toole had merely chated him out of a Sunday sail for idays when he robbed him of his opportunities for education. Language is more than Sunday dress for ideas. It is necessary raiment. I should scarcely go too far if I added, it is the meat, and drink, and vital air of thought. I should insult your intelligence if I should maintain that this invaluable thing is monopolized by the colleges. But I do say, that where fair competency in the teacher, meets fair ability in the pupil, there the highest ad- vantages are likely to be realized. I must not forget that I undertook to show tlie practical advantages of collegiate education for all the higher walks of professional and indus- trial life. I must not then insist on the fact that in the two dead languages taught in college — the Greek and the Latin — are contained, the authoritative standards of Christian doctrine and ecclesiastical history. The original records in the one, the history of doctrine and organization in the other. That the foundations, and more than mere foundations, of our modern philosophy are in them. That they contain the seeds of most of our modern science and literature, I may not pass over the fact that almost all the more comprehensive terms in our language, and nearly half of the terms in even most common use, are better understood by a respectable pro- ficient in those languages. I must insist that the scantling of Ciiesar's Commentaries, Virgil's Eclogues, and Horace's Odes, which even a graduate could bring away from college, might COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 259 prove a very slender outfit of practical knowledge for a lawyer, a merchant, or a farmer. The vigor, accuracy, readiness, and subtilty of thinking developed in their acquisition, are invalua- ble advantages in every department of activity. We can only touch the science of the mathematics. Beginning with a meagre outfit of axioms, forms and definitions, what a magnifi- cent sphere of truth — now it is said, widening more rapidly than ever — has it constructed. Itself simply ideal, a realm of pure abstractions, it allies itself with fact and observation, it locates railroads and canals, levels the hills, tunnels the moun- tains, builds bridges, aqueducts, palaces and temples, con- structs your maps, establishes the boundaries between farms and between nations, fixes time and calends, fashions the ship and guides it with almost unerring certainty over the pathless waters ; not to speak of what it has done in threading the whole labyrinth of nature, in the earth and in the heavens, how practically useful it is to the race. But one says, except some aid in practical work, it is worth nothing to me directly in my office, in my shop, on my farm. Calculus, I admit, is worth nothing directly in most of the pursuits of life. But mathe- matics, as a practical drill. in analysis, as the best known training in continuous and subtle reasoning, is the best disci- pline of mind in deduction and expei'ience. The profound and brilliant Macaulay, hardly equalled by any linguist, who has made the languages his special life-long study, was a good mathematician, but formed a capricious distaste to mathematics; he failed to win the highest honors of Cambridge. Many years afterwards he remarked, with a 260 LIFE OF A. H. BROAVN, DD. LLD. touch of sadness, " I would not turn over one of my fingers for the honor of being Senior "Wrangler, but I Avould give a great deal for the habits of mind, which the gaining of the honor would have established and avouched," I may not detain you to speak of that science, of know thyself, which itself is the subject, or the object matter, in which the soul minutely inventories, not its products but its powers ; in which it dis- sects itself, and yet lives with increased vigor ; and in which it surveys and enlarges itself in the very act of surveying all things else that lie in the range of its vision. Surely, surely, the study of ourselves and of kindred souls is invaluable, both in its silent knowledge and in discipline. Of natural philosophy and chemistry, I need say no more than that the former, is in a great measure, applied mathe- matics ; and that where they differ from mathematics they both furnish knowledge more immediately available ; and establish habits of thought m«re immediately applicable in the so-called productive industries, than any other studies. The whole course is skilfully calculated to make the several studies mutually helpful and complementar}'^, and to furnish the greatest amount of valuable truth, and the highest degree of rounded and symmetrical mental development. Often those studies which afford a minimum of directly available truth, afford the maximum of culture. The college course com- prehends all the great departments of human knowledge, but it presents them rather in the manner of a general school, than of a topographical map. It marks the great thorough- fares into the grand main divisions of truth, indexes the roads COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 261 leading into the lesser territories, and helps to a commanding outlook on the whole. Its wealth consists rather of ingots than of small change, and it requires a supplemental practical tact to coin them for immediate use. It more than any other training, cultivates the power of rapidly acquiring this tact, in converting its own stores into available forms, and in gaining whatever additional stores may be necessary. The young farmer who has been five years on the farm will succeed at first, greatly beyond his young neighbor of equal native ability, who returns from a five years' course at college, and goes right ofi* to farming. The old neighbors will laugh at the first eflTorts of the agricultural novice who has no guide at all, or no guide but Liebig and the Southern Planter. If the young planter be a Jno. R. Edmunds, they will soon cease to laugh and begin to stare. But what a strange inference they will draw ! When *' Dick " came home from the University he was a great bungler. University education is nothing to a farmer ; practice is everything. Why, we may ask, had not practice done as much for some of them, scarcely inferior in natural endowments to this great states- man, and greatest of farmers ? Ah ! the University education was behind all the practice, in all the practice. The young Collegiate will wrap goods as nimbly, run up a column of numbers as rapidly, post books as skilfully as a rival with less of general, and more of special training. But give the youno- scholar a little time, and he will vindicate the practical Avorth of his studies. 262 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. CHAPTER X. HIS DEATH. TT was a remarkable fact, that while through all -*- his life, Dr. Brown was fragile and delicate, he was enabled to say on his death bed that he had never had a serious sickness, and had never known the day when he could not dress himself. Always a victim to constitutional infirmities, he yet seemed to be singularly exempt from ordinary diseases. He endured the hardships and exposures of a country pastorate, and yet escaped the ordinary ailments with which his stronger brethren so often suffered. This was due in part to the sim- plicity of his habits and his unfailing prudence. For many years he was the victim of a cough. When, in 1881, he came to Richmond to enter upon his duties as a Professor in the College, he was a guest in the home of the writer during the time of his preparation for housekeeping. I had not met him many times since he was my teacher in the Albemarle Female Institute, and it was one of the sweetest privileges of my domestic life to HIS DEATH. 263 welcome him and his loved ones to my board and fireside. His coming was an event fraught with joy to man}^, and my own heart bounded with grateful pride to see my old teacher take his place in that Institution, so deeply enshrined in the aflfections of the Virginia Baptists. But, after seeing him and noticing his wasted form and hear- ing in the night his incessant coughing, my joy changed to anxiety. He was, however, so full of vivacity and showed such marked powers of endurance, that the forebodings of his friends seemed to be unnecessary. He took up his work with surprising energy, and prosecuted it with an ardor so fresh and buoyant, that the question of his health ceased to be discussed. Sometimes, at the end of the sessions, he exhibited signs of pros- tration and exhaustion. But, after his vacations, he would return to his duties renewed in strength and hope. The College Session of 1885-86 opened with unusual interest. It had been announced that the exercises would be introduced by a public address from Dr. Brown. His popularity with the students was such that, contrary to their cus- tom of lingering at home until the day on which the recitation bell would ring, they came in large numbers, that they might enjoy the luxury of 264 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. hearing him. In addition to the students and professors, there were present from the city many cultivated people, making one of those apprecia- tive and sympathetic audiences which always called forth his noblest powers. His subject was "Christian Education," and in it he showed by an argument at once compact and masterly, that Christian teaching may be done more effectually by example and silent influence than by formal religious instruction under legislative enactment. The address was witty, unique, richly entertaining and thrillingly eloquent. But human life is subject to startling changes. This auspicious opening of the College was soon to be followed by one of the saddest incidents which had ever marked its history. While apparently as Avell as usual, Dr. Brown was evidently anxious about the condition of his health. He consulted physicians, but they gave him no reason for special alarm. The General Baptist Association met in the early part of November, in the city of Eichmond, Ya. Dr. Brown attended its sessions, and while he took no part in the public discussions, he greatly enjoyed his companionship with his brethren. He filled his house with delegates, and day by day his parlors were crowded with friends to whom he HIS DEATH. 265 extended a delightful hospitality. Little did his brethren dream that his end would come so soon. During the week following the Association, Mr. Carson Brown, the eldest son of the deceased, was married, and brought his bride to his father's house. The marriage was in all respects most agreeable to the family ; and Dr. Brown hailed the coming of his new daughter with many demonstrations of pleasure. He gave himself heartily to the entertainment of the bridal pair. It was noticed that he was facetious and jovial even beyond his wont, and he brightened the home circle with many a flash of his quaint and mirth-provoking wit. Perhaps in all the earth there could not have been found a happier home than was that of Dr. Brown's during the few days when he had Carson and his young wife as guests. He was a prince of talkers, and no where did his colloquial powers show to greater advantage than at his own fire- side, and none enjoyed him more than his own family. He was engaged to preach at the First Baptist Church on Sunday, November 22d; but, on rising Sunday morning, he was attacked with a nausea, which so completely prostrated him that he was compelled to recall the appointment. On Monday morning Mr. Carson Brown and his wife left for 266 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. their lioinc, in Pittsylvania, with no serious mis- giving as to the condition of their father, little thinking of the message that was so soon to recall them. On Tuesday, the writer called at his home ; and on being invited to the chamber where the sick teacher lay, his parched lips and burning fever betokened too plainly the approach of death. He talked freely of his condition, and said the doctor told him he had engorgement of the liver; that he did not know how serious his case was, but that he had felt for some time that his end would come suddenly, 'Hhat he would pass rapidly away after having lived a life of as much real happiness as is ever given to any man." This w^as said with intense emotion and revealed the fact that he felt that his condition was critical. On Friday morning I visited him again, and was greatly pained at the marked change that had taken place. His whole appearance was different. His face was rigid, and his breathing labored and painful. When aroused from his stupor he made an eflbrt to greet me ^^nth his w^onted brightness and cordiality, and said that he felt better. During the morning he not only arose and dressed himself, but prepared the monthly reports of his classes. As tlie (h\y advanced, he grew rapidly worse. HIS DEATH. 267 He did not seem to be aware of the nearness of his end ; but his lungs, always weak, had become suddenly and hopelessly congested, and he was too much enfeebled to resist an attack so acute and powerful. After a brief struggle, his final relief came, at nine and a half o'clock, on Friday night, November 29th, 1885. No public mention had been made of his sick- ness, and even his own family were not expecting the sad result. The news of his death, therefore, was a great surprise. At the College the Literary Societies Avere holding their weekly sessions, and when a messenger brought the startling tidings of his death, they broke up in the midst of tearful lamentations. The next morning the Richmond Despatch an- nounced the event, and the sorrow of the Rich- mond people was widespread and profound. As the intelligence went abroad through Virginia, the general grief, especially among the Baptists, was very deep ; and messages and letters of sympathy came to the family from every direction. The funeral took place at the Grace Street Baptist Church on Sunday afternoon. The weather could not have been more unfavorable. All day the rain had been pouring in torrents, and the streets were filled with water. The wind 268 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. was piercing and fierce, and it was well nigh impossible to walk the streets, without being drenched and chilled by the driving rain. The vast congregation, which despite the raging storm, thronged the building was itself a significant testimony to the honor and esteem, with which Dr. Brown was regarded by the Richmond people — and yet it was supposed that hundreds were kept away by the violent weather. The trustees, the fiiculty, the students and many, many friends entered the house with the procession. I have never witnessed a funeral service so tearful and impressive. Nearly all of the Baptist pastors of Richmond were present, and took part in the exercises. The music was in charge of a quartette choir of students, assisted by Richmond's most beloved and consecrated singer, Captain Frank Cunningham. Prof. H. H. Harris, the chairman of the College Faculty, was in charge of the exercises, and intro- duced them in fitting words. In the place of a formal sermon, there were three addresses. The pastor of the Church, Dr. W. E. Hatcher, who had been summoned hy tele- gram from Culpeper, where he was assisting Rev. C. F. James in a series of revival services, was the first speaker. He spoke as follows : HPS DEATH. 2G9 Let me say, dear brethren and friends, that lam not worthy to speak at such a time as this. My lips flaint before their task. They cannot utter the anguish of my own heart, and yet less can they adequately speak the mournful sentiment of this hour. I tremble, lest I speak what ought to remain unsaid, or withhold that which the occasion may demand. Who could speak worthily of Israel's peerless prince whose pulseless dust lies before us? What words can frame his eulogy whose worth belittles all praise? Unique, original and majestic when living, he wears in death a vestment of glory, which no tongue can describe. For years he has been enshrined in our hearts, and his presence has been a fountain of joy and strength. Now that God has suddenly taken him away, who can fittingly recite the story of his life, or paint in its lofty spiritual beauty, his character ? Such power pertains not to me, and yet you will bear with me, as I stand in my place and offer my feeble tribute to his worth. Our brother was a native of Amherst County. Truly, that rugged and beautiful old county, never bore a princelier son, and no son was ever more proudly loyal to his native hills. Dr. Brown once said, "that God's plant-bed for rearing Baptist preachers, lay along the eastern base of the Blue Ridge Mountains." From that soil he sprang, and in the ful- ness of time. Divine grace plucked him up, and transplanted him into the garden of the Lord, where his leaf never withered, and whatsoever he did, prospered. In his early life he became an Episcopalian ; but a larger and deeper study of God's Word revealed to him a better Avay, and he became a Baptist. 270 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. Heartily accepting the distinctive views of the Baptists, he maintained them \vith gentle and courageous devotion, and was always happy in the ic'llowship of his brethren. Uublest of fortune, and yet inlhimed with a quenchless passion for learning, he had a sharp conflict in seeking an education. But his purpose to attain unto generous culture was ovei-- mastering, and in the end victorious. His scholastic advantages were fragmentary, comprising a year at Wash- ington College in Lexington, Va., and later, a brief term at our State University; but what the schools denied him, his own inflexible energy and tireless personal application achieved for him. He became a chief in the family of scholars. It startles us to think of him so frail in body, so wedded to books, and so sensitive to the jars of life, beginning his minis- terial career as a pioneer in the mountains of Virginia. Those who knew him as the youthful missionary are not here to-day, but their testimony abides that his life was spotless, his spirit heroic, and his sermons full of gospel power. In the rugged conflicts of those boyish days, he won the strength for his splendid achievements in other fields. Dr. Brown first became conspicuous to })ublic view, as the pastor of the Baptist Cliurch at Hampton, Va. He was then in the freshness of his ripened manhood, and not even the blotting of old Hampton from the earth can ever efface the marks of his influence in that community. A lady told me this morning, that she met a grey-haired old man on the street car yesterday— one who was a leading spitit HIS DEATH. 271 in the Hampton Church duvuig Dr. Brown's pastorate. He had just heard of his old pastor's deatli, and unmindful of the cold glances of those around him, he was crying like a child. Yesterday afternoon, I passed through Charlottesville ; in the thickening gloom of the evening, I saw the tower of the Baptist Church ; it reminded me of those magnificent times when our brother stood in the Charlottesville pulpit, and by his majestic eloquence drew to his feet, as eager listeners, the best brain and culture of that classic community. I saw the Albemarle Institute in which he taught, and thought of his scattered pupils who once ennobled by his magnetic and brilliant life, were now to be saddened by the tidings of his death. Dr. Brown loved to teach. Twice he held a professorship in Hollins Institute ; and his memory will forever be indis- solubly linked with the history of that Institution, He helped greatly to give to that school the lofty place which it now has. It was in the dark days of the war that he finally bade adieu to Hollins, and entered the army as a missionary. For nearly two years, of his own accord, and from a conviction of duty, he slept in the camp, preached in the open air, visited in the hospitals and cheered the soldier boys in the midst of their denials and perils. When the end came — the tragic disastrous end of the strife — he returned to his family in their little country home in Pittsylvania County, Virginia. There for fifteen years, sometimes teaching, sometimes working in the fields for bread, all the time the devoted teacher of his own children, he remained. In the midst of these duties he 272 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. ceased not to declare the word of God. As the pastor of country churches he was in the best sense a public benefactor — an example of righteousness — a stimulating, refining, uni- fying, Christian force, and his work so honestly done, will long survive him. In that community, his name is the synonym of purity, honor and fidelity. While he labored, he studied, and studying, grew to the height of his great manhood. Now and then he emerged from his rural retreat, and appeared in the councils of his brethren. He came like a prophet, anointed with celestial power and burning with his message. His words fell with almost seraphic power upon the crowds which pressed to hear him. Some of us remember how, that in the strength of the bread which he gave us to eat, we travelled for many days in the wilderness of life. Justice is tardy, but always sure. At last the Baptists of Virginia awoke to a sense of his w^orth, and in 1881, sum- moned him to duty in the Faculty of Richmond College. As others are to speak of him as the college professor, I pass over that phase of his life with the single remark that those who were the most active in securing his appointment will always recall the part they took Avith grateful satisfaction. It is always painful to me to speak in terms Avhich to others may savor of exaggeration. Those who did not know Dr. Brown Avill hardly forgive the almost boundless enthusiasm and admiration with which his friends regarded him. I say, with a full sense of my responsibility, that in many points Dr. Brown was the greatest man that I ever knew. He was HIS DEATH. 273 endowed with a great mind. It was phenomenally, excep- tionally great — great in its grasp, great in its penetrating power, great in its power to hold and surprisingly great in its capacity to recall, combine and utilize what he knew. In the extent, variety, accuracy, and honesty of his learning he was pre-eminent. His shattered nerves made it painful for him to write and sometimes painful to speak. His sensitive modesty often sealed his lips when his soul was on fire to speak. But whether on the platform, or in the class room, or at the fireside, he opened his lips, it was the unsealing of a fountain of wis- dom and truth. I do not care to call Dr. Brown an orator. Perhaps he was not. The frailty of his form, the occasional lack of volume and distinctness in his voice, his untrained and sometimes vio- lent gestures may have fallen below the popular ideal of the orator. But what he lacked in studied grace and smooth speech, was more than made up in the fiery and impetuous torrent of his thought, the intense earnestness of his nature and the boldness and honesty of his bearing. If we are to judge men by the effect of their public utterances, he could easily stand the test. His power with the people was wonderful. I stood at the gate of the Baptist Church, in Culpeper, yesterday, when a distinguished Presbyterian lawyer approached me. I informed him of Dr. Brown's death. " Alas ! " he said, " one of our greatest men has fallen. I heard him preach in this church what I verily be- lieve was the most thrillingly eloquent sermon that I have ever heard." I remember well that in his speech on State 274 I.IFK OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. Missions, before the General Association, at Petersburg, in 1870, he produced an impression which was unequalled by all I have heard in iuiprcssive and overwhelming power. When he finished, the people sat spell-bound and in tears. As another brother, after a pause, rose to speak, a minister rushed out of the house exclaiming : "Let me get out. After hearing Brown, I can hear nothing else." On other occasions his power over the people was equally great. His eloquence was ripened thought steeped in holy passion. It often happened that his noblest speeches were spiced with a humor that was exceedingly chaste and gentle. On one occasion, I remember, his wit broke forth like a flood, and convulsed his audience into surprised laughter. If not an orator in finish and art, he was better than an orator in his sublime power to enkindle high sentiment in human souls. Better even than his ini])erial mental gifts, was his nobleness of heart. I know that it has been said that Dr. Brown was passionate, and sometimes yielded to angry excitements. Well, he had a high and impetuous nature. His views of rectitude and propriety were very emphatic. In his youth he spurned evil with a consuming intensity which sometimes set fire to the evil doer, and in his sight discourtesy was a crime. But he saw his fault. He put a chain upon his fiery nature. He sub- dued himself humbly before God. He learned ]iatience and charity, and was gentle. He was like a little child before the Lord. His spirit was candid, forbearing, magnanimous. He knew men. Those who fancied he was unobservant and undis- HIS DEATH. 275 criminating were greatly mistaken. He knew what was in men in a very remarkable degree. But he was kindly in his judgments and niarvelously cautious in his speech. He neither spoke roughly to the offender nor severely to the wrong-doer. He loved peace, and sought always to do what was pure and right. He was a good man, and full of the Holy Ghost. In no relation of life did our brother show to greater advant- age than in his home. In the mercy of God he found in his youth one of the wisest and truest of women for his wife, and to the end of his days he accorded to her that gracefid courtesy and unfailing gallantry which he gave her as a bride. He ruled well his house — always receiving the prompt submission and purest reverence of his children, and that, too, with only the gentlest displays of his authority. In him his children had a constant and entertaining companion. The gate of his home was always ajar for his friends. He dispensed hospitality with a cordiality so easy and informal that his guests were always made hapi)y. Hundreds have tasted his bounty who will now bewail his departure. When he came to Richmond I did not ask him to unite with this church ; but when he gave me his letter, I could not refrain from expressing the joy which I felt in his coming. I did not feel that I was fitted to minister to him, but I rejoiced that such a noble counsellor had entered our ranks. Little, indeed, did I know what an unspeakable blessing he would prove to the pastor or the Church. From the first, he won the love of the people. They believed thoroughly in his good- ness and wisdom. They were always glad to hear him. He 276 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LI.D. entered thomughly into the work of the Church. His scat was rarely vacant, and never without a cause. While averse even to tlie appearance of conspicuity, he was ready for every good work. Last Sunday week that veteran pioneer of our State Mission Board, M. A. Wilson, was invited to speak in our Sunday School. Of course, he was in quest of money to aid liiin in building a house of worship in the Southwest. "Wlien it was proposed to send out the baskets to receive the gifts of the brethren, Dr. Brown sprang up with his pocket- book in hand, and, halting the*collectors, said, "Brethren, let us do something worthy of us : here is my gift : who else will help?"' His words were electric, and the money poured in from many quarters. Since I entered this pulj)it, more than ten years ago, to min- ister to this Church, I have had many discriminating, helpful, responsive hearei-s. Many of my sermons have been saved from failure by sympathetic eyes that are now sealed in death. But I speak the simple truth, when I declare, that the most gracious and insj)iring auditor to wliom I ever preached (ex- cepting, possibly. Dr. Jeter), was Dr. Brown. Not only did he listen well, but almo.st every Sabbath he renuxined after the close of the service, to utter some pleasant criticism upon the sermon — none the less pleasant because it was sometimes adverse. He never failed to yield a cordial sympathy to evei-y enterpri.se of the Church, or to every scheme of the pastor which looked to the honor of Christ. It is not for me to attempt to express a sense of that loss which has fallen on this Church in his death ; but he leaves to us a name that cannot HIS DEATH. 277 be forgotten, aud an example whose influence will continue to do its silent work. His testimony in favor of the Gospel has been to many a stronghold of faith. He was a philosopher, in the broadest Christian sense. He knew history; he had gone to the bottom of language and of literature. To him, the theories and spec- ulations of men, in every department of thought, were quite familiar. He had measured the depths of skepticism, and knew its strength and its weakness. He was one of the few men who could safely cross the line and personally inspect the grim fortresses from which the enemies of God hurled their deadliest missiles. He had made the round of the enemies' encampments, examined their weapons, and measured their strength. Better than any other mfu, who has moved in our midst during this generation, he was able to study the Christian evidences under all converging lights. This he did, and the end was a cloudless faith in the redemptive work of Christ, the Son of God. He trusted in Jesus as the Living One ; and each day saw him on his knees and in grateful fellowship with his Lord. Many of us are not capable of grappling with the devices of infidelity. It may start questions which we can not answer; but if Dr. Brown, our prince in scholarship, believed the Gospel, we need not doubt it. We can prop our trembling faith with his faith which never trembled. In that faith he has closed his life and gone to be with Christ. Happy Sabbath — unspeakably happy — has this been to him : sitting beneath the Tree of Life with his own beloved Poindexter, Jeter, Taylor, Bagby, and Tyree, and gazing entranced upon the glories of his Redeemer. 278 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. The second speaker was Rev. AA^illiam C. Tyree, of Amherst County, Ya., who was chosen to repre- sent his fellow students on the occasion. Tenderly and appropriately he voiced the feelings of those he represented. In the following will be found the address of this consecrated and promising young minister : I cannot tell you kind friends with what trembling em- barrassment I appear before you, at this sad hour. It is with no sense of fitness that I come, but simply that I may voice the sorrow of my fellow-students ; I may be pardoned for saying that one fact, serves to embolden me for my task. I am the son of one who was a life-long friend of Dr. Brown, and I feel that it is an act of filial piety to bring a simple flower of praise, and place it upon this bier. I may add also, that Amherst, the county of Dr. Brown's nativity, is my adopted home, and in no place, was he ever more highly esteemed. The respect which he won as a boy, continued and grew until his death. The news that he has passed away, will sadden hundreds of hearts in the community, where he was reared. But chiefly as a student of Richmond College, am I here to speak. It is a poor tribute to our lamented teacher to say, that he commanded the most jirofouud and affectionate admiration of the students. His princely mind, his varied learning, his gentle spirit, and his transparent goodness, secured for him the highest respect. lie was to us a never failincr fountain of knowledij-e. We never heard him without HIS DEATH. 279 being enriched with knowledge — and inspired with lofty jDur- poses. He was a lover of truth, and those who sat at his feet, felt the contagion of his spirit. But we loved Dr. Brown as much as we respected him. He was our friend, he was accessible, modest, and always ready to help us. He encouraged us, while he taught us— and quickened our self-respect by his manifest care for our welfare. How sadly we Avill miss him ! How much of that mellow. Christian influence which pervaded the college will depart with him. The sweet light of his life will ever be to us a holy memory and a precious incentive. He taught us how to live, how to study, how to work, how to suffer, how to wait ; and now he teaches us how we must die. He has closed his class-book — and will call the roll no more ; but it is pleasant to reflect that he has gone to answer to the roll-call of the skies. Fellow-students, around the coffin of our dead professor we bow beneath a common sorrow. Let us catch the falling mantle of the ascending prophet, and wrapping it about us, go forth to the battle of life. The third address at the funeral was delivered by Dr. Brown's fellow-professor, Rev. Wm. D. Thomas, DD., and richly deserves a place in these memorial papers. It is to be regretted that Dr. Thomas has not been able to furnish a copy for publication. In its stead, we take the liberty of presenting the subjoined sketch, written for the 280 LIFK OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LI>n. College Messenger, hy Prof. B. Puryear, LLD., one of the most tenderly Icved friends that Dr. Brown ever had : Our conimuuity has been most painfully shocked by the sudden death of Dr. Brown. The sad event occurred on Friday, the 27th November, at 9:20 P. ]\I. Dr. Brown was on the streets on Saturday, the 21st, in his usual health, and was engaged to preach the next day at the First Baptist Church. But with the day came the last sickness that was to convulse his already wasted and feeble frame. He was too unwell to preach, or even to attend church. No serious appre- hensions, however, were enteilained until a few hours before the fatal issue. Indeed, he was cheerful and talkative on the afternoon of his last day on earth, greeting his friends with a grateful smile, and begging them to prolong their stay. But his vital energies had been well nigh exhausted before sickness came, and when it came, he fell, therefore, an ea.sy prey. We shall attempt no sketch of the life of our departed friend and instructor. That task we leave to other and more competent hands. "NVe shall speak of him only as a college professor, and as he appeared to us in his daily work and walk. Dr. Brown was indisputably the most intellectual man we have ever known. His mind was always actively at work. We believe that his physical system was weakened, and, at length, undermined by his high intellectuality. He belonged to that noblest type of philosophers who seek knowledge at all times and everywhere because they love it. To study and to HIS DEATH. - 281 learn was a necessity of his nature. The truth was lovely in his eyes, and he sought it eagerly because he loved it with a burning passion. Whether his intellectual achievements would bring him fame, or wealth, or dignities, were matters that did not occur to him. Not these did he seek, but simply and only what was true. And when he discovered Truth, he clasped her as Goddess fair, and was thrilled and electrified by the embrace. Though he might not hear, yet in his inmost soul he felt the " music of the spheres." To discover the causes of things, to trace the connections and dependencies of events, to build solid theories upon established facts, were the constant and necessary occupations of his mind. And when an intel- lectual triumph rewarded his labor, what warmth, and glow, and ecstacy suffused his face and tingled along his nerves ! What seraphic joy must thrill his now unfettered soul as it sweeps the boundless Universe, and . contemplates, in its multi- plied relations and magnificent amplitudes, the truth he loved so well ! With a mind so vigorous, so inquisitive and active, and de- voted through life to scholastic pursuits. Dr. Brown was, as must needs be, a prodigy of learning. He Avas at home in the ancient and modern languages, in belles-lettres, in history, in philology, in sociology, in metaphysics, in the positive and exact sciences, not excluding the abstruse mathematics.* Nor did he simply make forays into all these fields of learning. His acquisitions were not only varied, but accurate, thorough, and profound. His aim was to know, not to seem to know. Hence, when he grappled with any subject, he did it exhaust- 282 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. ivcly, never relaxing his grasp until he had conquered it. Hence, when he ■wrote, or spoke, or lectured, he put the whole domain of learniug under tribute. Facts, illustrations, prin- ciples, from every department of science and of literature, came trooi)ing in marshalled ranks, and ready for effective service. His difficulty was not what to say, but what not to say ; not what to take, but what to reject. And whatever his theme, and how familiar soever with it, he threw into it all his powers at their utmost tension. It was impossible for him, when before an audience, to think slowly or to think languidly. Facts and arguments whic-h, falling from other lips, would seem stale and dull, in passing through the glowing alembic of his mind, came out warm and throbbing with life, and rich and radiant w'ith beauty. And when the effort is over, he is left pale, limp, exhausted. He could do nothing except by doing it with all his might, and hence the prostration which attended all his intellectual efforts. His body suffered in these fierce convulsions, and finally succumbed to the terrific strain. Dr. Brown never made money. It was impossible for him to do it. His thoughts were too intent on other and higher things. He made fame, it is true, but equally without intending it. It followed him ; he sought it not. To his intimate friends he was known to be shrinking and tremulous to a surprising extent, and hence he sought no occasions of display. He had none of that vulgar ambition which seeks the front and thrusts itself into notice. When he appeared before the public, it was with a worthy purpose, and was satisfied if only his object was successfully accomplished. HIS DEATH. 283 With his towering intellect and his great learning, Dr. Bro^YU Avas as simple, as transparent, as artless as a child ; "an Israelite indeed, in whom there was no guile." In his dress, manners and conversation, he was utterly unpretentious, and was as accessible, therefore, as the plainest man in the work-shop or the field. Men, and all sorts of men, talked with him freely on all sorts of subjects. There was nothing repellent about him ; but his unassuming manner and won- derful resources of thought and knowledge made him a delightful companion to all classes of people. Nor was it difficult to find his guileless heart, his tender sympathy, his overflowing generosity and love. He practiced no tricks, he knew no arts, he never deceived nor betrayed a friend. In what heart has ever arisen, from what lips has ever fallen, a sentiment unfriendly to Dr. Brown? He is gone; gone to the bosom of his God, whom he served. We have lost our " guide, philosopher, and friend." A void has been made in our midst, which none can fill. In the lonely vigils of the night, we recall our friend, and bemoan our loss. Quis desiderio sit piidor aut modus Tarn cari capitis. At the request of the family, the burial was deferred until ten o'clock next morning. At that time, accompanied by the family, the faculty and the students, it was borne to Hollywood, and found its resting-place in the college section. His grave is but a small distance from the hill-top, 284 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. which is crowned with the monuments of James B. Ta3'lor, and the gallant General J. E. B. Stuart. As the body was lowered to its resting-place, the pastor spoke briefly of the resurrection ; and prayer was offered by Prof. Edmund Harrison. After the grave was filled, the saddened company sang the sweet " Bye-and-Bye," and were dis- missed. Dr. Brown was greatly beloved by the Baptist ministers of Richmond. His delicate courtesy, , and never failing alacrity, in serving them, as well as his wisdom as a counsellor, gave him a warm place in their hearts. At a meeting of the Rich- mond ministers' conference, a few days after his death, Dr. W. W. Landrum, the eloquent pastor of the Second Baptist Church, was appointed to voice their sorrow in appropriate resolutions — of which, extracts appear below : " 1. The departure of our brother leaves a wide gap in our ranks. Like Saul, the magnificent proportions of his stature as a preacher of the word, lifted him head and shoulders above us all ; his were royal faculties, and his a princely mind. His eloquence threw its spell over every audience of every grade of culture, from the rudest to the most polished assemblies. " 2. As an educator, our brother stood among the foremost. He was in all his methods didactic by nature. He never HIS DEATH. 285 made an exhortation till he had first expounded a doctrine. He was abundant in proof, of any position he felt called upon to assume, and as fecund in illustration to make clear his demonstrations to the comprehension of the meanest intellect. * * * * We deeply sympathize with Richmond College in its irreparable loss — as well as the cause of sound learning throughout the land. " 3. It was, however, most of all, his life as a simple-hearted believer in Jesus, which drew the cords of our affection closest about the form of Dr. Brown. We shall never forget that life. One prominent element of his power lay in his broad sympathies ; his great heart gave a quick response to every cry of joy or sorrow, which came up from the soul of the race.' Another secret, of his forceful personality, inhered in the strength of his convictions. A profound philosophy couches in the declaration of the Psalmist, ' I believed — therefore have I spoken.' Dr. Brown was mighty in the fi\ith of Christ and the Gospel, and spoke his belief with commanding emphasis ; he had the courage of his convictions. * * * " 4. He tenderly loved his brethren, and in honor preferred them. In him was no bitterness, nor jealousy, nor vaulting ambition, but instead, a warmth of fraternal love that would have made an enemy to be at peace with him. His modesty sometimes approached a painful diffidence. He would blush with confusion at the slightest mention of praise, and declare with another, whom in this respect he resembled, ' I am not what I might be — I am not what I ought to be — I am not what I hope to be, but by the grace of God I am what I am.' 286 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLP. We beg to offer the bereaved wife and children of our dear brother, our siucerest sympathy, and fraternal petitions at the throne of the heavenly grace. * * * " 5. We i)\iice these expressions on record for preserva- tion," etc., etc. Dr. Brown was one of the most useful and inter- ested Trustees of the Richmond Female Institute. It was a pleasant custom with him to bear public testimony to its usefulness, in the higher education of girls. This he did in almost everj^ public gath- ering in which education was discussed. After his death, a memorial service was held at the Institute, and a paper prepared by the accomplished Presi- dent of the Board of Trustees, Dr. II. A. Tupper, was read and adopted, expressing their appreciation of his worth, and suggesting that a leaf of the records of the Institute be appropriately dedicated to him. It is to be regretted that want of space prevents its appearance in full in these pages. Below will be found a j^^i't of this admirable paper : "Know ye not that there is a prince and a great man fallen this day in Israel ?" In the death of Dr. A. B. Brown, a Trustee of Richmond Female Institute, the cause of woman's higher education has lost one of its earliest friends in the South, and perhaps its HIS DEATH. 287 most sympathetic and powerful advocate in America. During thirty years, this great and good man was identified, in various ways, with institutions of learning for girls and young women ; and his advocacy of this cause, on many public occasions, was marked by originality, forcefulness, and eloquence, rarely equalled, and perhaps never excelled, in the discussion of woman's claim to severer mental discipline and broader scholas- tic culture. Born himself with an exquisite nervous structure which gives quick appreciation of the keen sensibility and the subtile intellection of that same delicate and superior nervous structure in woman; confirmed in his convictions by long experience in studying and teaching her, of woman's adapted- ness to the highest development and acquisitions of mind, and her peculiar ability to apprehend moral truth and apply it to the problems of social and religious life; and rejoicing in the success which has crowned female students in competitive tests in celebrated universities of the United States and Great Britain, he entered con amove into the defense of woman as a momentous factor in the world of thought, and a controlling element in the world's social and spiritual civilization. There was a chivalric generosity of nature, also, that inclined him to such vindication, and made him lean, if he leaned from the perpendicular of exact justice, to the side of female excellence. Listening to that matchless tribute to woman, worthy of an appreciative student and competent judge of the sex that pro- duced a George Eliot and an Elizabeth Barrett Browning, not to name others nearer home, made at Warrentou, before the Baptist General Association of Virginia, the auditor was 288 LIFE OF A. B. BUOWN, DD. LLD. at a loss to know wliicli to admire more, the fair extolled, or the gallant extoller whose deference to his subject suggested the greatness of that master of logic, J. Stuart INIill, ^vhcn he protested that his own best thoughts were derived from a -woman ; and the greatness of the nobler Apollos, mighty in the Scriptures, and eloquent when he gladly submitted himself in Ephesus to be led more perfectly in the way of the Lord by the Paul disciplined Priscilla of Rome. And who that followed Dr. Brown, on such occasions, need be reminded of the profound impressions made by that mar- velous combination of analytical acumen, philosophic accu- racy, breadth of research, and wealth of illustration ; all fired by intense earnestness which characterized his grand utter- ances, and embalmed them in the life-long memory of his hearers ? It is said that the author of the Iliad and Odissey left unused no figure furnished by physical nature for the original use of his successors in the divine art. After one of those splendid creations of oratorical genius, which came from the lips of our now speechless Chrysostom, like full armed Minerva from the brain of Jupiter, who ever thought that he had a word to add by way of argument, embellishment, or appeal ? Yet, the great things he did seemed unconsciously done, as the converse of Carlyle's principle, that consciousness is the test of imperfection; and in resemblance to the tapestry- workers of Paris, who, Avith eyes fixed on the pattern above their heads, do not see the glorious work in silver and gold wrought by their skillful hands. But, Dr. Brown was not luerely a champion of woman and HIS DEATH. 289 of woman's culture — a kind of clerical "ladies' man," that may have given rise to the witticism of England's most caustic wit, that there are three sexes, men, women and preachers. Dr. Brown was a manly man — the manliest of men — a king among men. Though angular in frame — alas! too frail for the titanic machine it encased — he was in character many- sided and Avell rounded. He was a philosopher, a divine, a Professor in Richmond College. He was a college ! One of the most intellectual, brainiest, and fullest men of Richmond has said, that Dr. Brown was the most brain-stimulating, brainy, and brimful man he ever knew. When one touched him intellectually, it was like touching a galvanic battery. The severest charge that could be brought against him — already suggested — was the charge that Charles II. brought against a distinguished contemporary, that he had the unfair- ness, in his consideration of all subjects, of leaving nothing io be said. But, Dr. Brown was, withal, a courtly, Christian gentleman. And, was there not something unique in the greatness of this man? He was a power in himself and in his God, without the factitious abetment of popular notoriety or reputation. The most prominent hotel proprietor of Halle had never heard of the world's most illustrious Hebraist, after the death of Gesenius, Dr. Tholuck of Halle University. * * In the far South, there is a tree that ranks the live-oak in majesty, and yet is covered with flowers spotless as the driven snow and fragrant as the breezes wafted over the fields of Araby. This magnolia is nature's fit emblem of the united 200 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. powers and graces of such a planting of Jehovah as that lately transplanted from earth, and planted in the garden of the Lord. "And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither, and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper." Whatsoever he doeth shall prosper; for his life, "hid with Christ in God," is identified with the tree of life that flourish- cth on the banks of "the river of life proceeding from the Throne of God and of the Lamb," LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. 291 HIS CHARACTER. An eminent historian has said that the biosrra- a pher ought first to ascertain what the world did for the man, and then what the man did for the world. In pursuance of this order, as indicated in the introductory of this volume, I have endeavored to show the reader how the influences of heredity and environment on the gifted A. B. Brown, helped him to attain, by successive gradations to the synthesis of his development, as the devout and scholarly Professor of Richmond College. It now only remains to show, what return he has made in contributing to the betterment of man- kind. And in order to do this faithfully, it wdll be necessary to take a view of the man as he was — w^ith his peculiarities, his powers and his influences — to make of his character, at least a partial analysis. It is to be regretted, that although he became a leader in the intellectual world in which he moved, and was one of those representative men 292 LIFE OF A. n. BROWN, DD. LLD. of which Macanhay speaks, who occupy the front rank of the age — he did not leave to posterity any memorial of his genius, save his addresses and sermons, some of which appear* in this volume. His power for good was so thoroughly the out- come of his character, that in order to estimate the value of the former, we must understand the latter. Of the dual nature God gives to man — the ma- terial and the spiritual — Dr. Brown possessed much more of the latter than the former. The one was out of all proportion to the other. If his ability had been gauged by his pounds avoirdupois, it would have been below mediocrity. In stature, he was tall and slender. His face rather dark in complexion, and rugged in his fea- tures, Avas ridged with marks of intense thought- fulness. His dark auburn hair displayed few streaks of gray, though his thin beard was tipped with snow. His movements were remarkably nervous and decisive. To strangers, his appearance was not attractive ; but to those who once felt tlie tlnill of his power and the gentleness of his char- acter, there was always a spiritual beauty in his countenance. The late Dr. Richard Fuller said of a distin- guished Southern preacher, that God gave him a HIS CHARACTER. 293 great soul, and he gave him a great body to keep it ill. The same could not have been said of Dr. Brown. There seems to be truth in the remark of Dr. Puryear, that his spiritual forces were con- sumed by the spiritual fires of his being. Burns, Byron, and Poe degraded their higher natures by yielding to the sordid cravings of their lower ; but Dr. Brown sacrificed his body at the altar of the soul. In manner, he was exceedingly courteous and respectful to all — notably so to those who were his inferiors. He had a cordial grasp and a hearty shake for the child or the student, as well as the professor. His sense of honor was exceptionally high ; and in early years he could not brook the want of it in others. His nature was full of sen- sibility and tenderness ; his heart and purse were ever open to the sorrowing and unfortunate. He could be melted to tears, in recounting the evi- dences of God's favor to him, in reciting a favorite poem, or in listening to a plea for help from the worn missionary, whose labors he so well appreci- ated. It is said of him, that once in his English class, while reading of the treatment of King Lear by his children, he was so overcome with emotion, that he had to stop. Underlying the colossal structure of character 294 LIFE OF A. 13. BROWN, DD. LLD. that Dr. Brown erected for himself, were the basal stones of simplicity, transparency, and honesty of pnrpose. llis habits as a young man were above reproach, and when he attained to old age, he had no bitter memories. Blameless and guileless, none could ever accuse him of double-dealing. He sometimes stumbled and fell into pitlalls, but it only made him the more watchful afterwards. Conspicuous in the galaxy of his shining traits, was his humility. He felt himself the least among his brethren. It seems strange that a man of such wondrous gifts and graces did not receive a more grateful reception at the hands of the w^orld. This, per- haps, is explained in part by his lack of self-assert- iveness. It was impossible for him to enter the unseemly struggle for place. Had he courted pro- motion, he might have won it : though it must have been at the expense of that unsullied modesty which w^as one of the crowns of his life. Then, too, he was always ready to sacrifice himself in the interest of others. At one time, he w\as prom- inently mentioned in connection with a vacant professorship in one of the most distinguished institutions in the State. The position was pecu- liarly attractive to him, and he did not disguise his hope of securing it. It came to pass, that he HIS CHARACTER. 295 learned that a beloved friend of his was an appli- cant for the same position, and instantly he deter- mined to withdraw, and gave his influence in favor of the appointment of his friend. He was an expert and an enthusiast in advancing others to honor; but he never understood the art of pro- moting himself. To give the reader a fair estimate of Dr. Brown's mental capacity, is a task far beyond the ability of the writer, yet something must be undertaken in that direction. He was liberally endowed with mind. The intellect, the sensibilities and the will seemed to exist in perfect harmony, and almost equal proportions. Some men are gifted in one or two of these departments ; few in all. And in intellect itself, when we come to analyze it, we find it difiicult to decide whether he was greatest in perception, reason, memory or imagina- tion. Gifted above many, his great intellect reached out in every direction for mental pabulum — upon which to subsist. He developed sym- metrically and rapidly, but not without great hindrances. It is said of Ruskin that he was born in wealth, trained in the best schools and colleges, and that he traveled all over the country by rail and in carriages, visiting cathedrals, palaces, etc.; and 296 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. living too, at a time of a great art revival, he would have been grossly culpable if he had failed to be a master in his chosen profession. Not so with Dr. Brown, though helped in early life by a self- sacrificing father to a good academic training, he struggled hard to obtain the means for a college and university course. By dint of energy, and the vigor of his faculties he became one of the most profound scholars of the age. The theoretical question discussed by Sir Wm. Hamilton, as to whether ''Truth" or "Search after truth," yielded the most happiness was ever a moot point with him. The greater part of his studying was done after he left school; he was a student all of his life. There prevails among the immature, and uncultured, and with some degree of plausibility, the idea, that the beginning of life is for acquiring, and the latter part for enjoying what has been acquired, and for dispensing it to others. While this is a truth, it is only a partial truth; the whole of this life is but a preparation for another ; time is but a training-school for eternity. Yie are all pupils in the school of providence. But few recognize this fact; and fewer still, put Ibrth the special efforts to make constant advancement in every depart- ment of being. We cannot repair, except to a HIS CHARACTER. 297 limited extent the constant wastes of the physical constitution, but we can make real progress in the mental and spiritual, through the whole pro- gress of the journey. Dr. Brown in one of his sermons quoted as his talisman, the words of Paul, "For I count not myself as having attained." His wife says of him that in their early married life, he was such a constant student, she would sometimes take his books from him ; but she soon found that his habit of study was so essential to his happiness, that she ceased to attempt an estrangement between him and his books. When he had no new books, he reread his old ones. During the war, he lost the most valuable books of his library — the very cream of it. This was a great sorrow to him, but he said that it became the means of his being more familiar with those he had left home. His craving for knowledge knew no bounds. He loved only what was pure. He carefully avoided the sensational and unhealthy. His love of books grew in intensity; he never ceased to enjoy the works of the ancient writers, and was as conversant Avith their views as with many of the authors of the present day, Cicero, Homer, Thu- cydides and Plato, were familiar friends. Those who have read the addresses in this volume must 298 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD, have noticedj'the ease with which he makes classi- cal quotations. Dr. BroAvn was not a poet, but if he had lived in the age of poetry, it is likely that he would have composed blank verse. Some of his sublimest strains were poetry in all, except "poetry's metri- cal music." His vivid imagination, his delicate sensibilit}^, his sjanpathy with nature in all her moods, his keen appreciation of "the true, beau- tiful and good " — his classical learning and great genius, would have needed only the touch of inspiration to make him a great poet. His love of nature was marked ; especially of mountain scenery. Not many years before he died, he went again to his old mountain home in Amherst. Tlie friend who accompanied him said, that it was with difficulty he could get him to proceed on the journey, that he would halt the driver at almost every turn of the road to get another mountain view. He said that Dr. Brown's joy was so great on seeing his native hills again, that he exclaimed, "If I could live among these grand old mountains, I would live ten years longer." Though he was a master, he counted himself a student. Stone, the celebrated mathematician, was the son of the gardener of the Duke of Argyle. When he was asked how he acquired so much of mathe- HIS CHARACTER. 299 matics and of the languages, with such poor oppor- tunities, he said, " that he knew the alphabet, and that all the knowledge he gained afterwards, was a natural sequence." Chatterton said, " God made men's arms long enough to reach everything in the world." The alphabet is the key that unlocks the storehouse of all knowledge. Given it, and the love of truth, with a steady industry, and success is assured. Dr. Brown was an inde- fatigable worker — but his mental labor was no drudgery, it was one of the sources of his happi- ness. He was a great lover of poetry, and entered into the conceptions of the author w^ith a keen relish. Milton, seems to have been his most admired poet. He loved to follow him in his loftiest flights, and gaze with him from the watch- towers of human learning, upon the rich fields of truth spread out to view. It was his custom to read at family worship on Christmas day — the " Ode on the Nativity of Christ." As a metaphysician. Dr. Brown stood without a peer among his brethren. He loved to grapple abstruse questions — to cast them into the crucible of his own master mind, subjecting them to the most severe analysis — passing by the dross of error for the refinings of truth, which, when ob- tained, were like ingots of gold, that would pass 300 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. current anywhere in the marts of thought-exchange. With the ancient systems of philosophy he was wonderfull}^ conversant. Not less so Avith the new doctrines of infidelity. He was invited once to make reply to a certain blatant, notorious public lecturer. He armed himself for the task, but on account of the feebleness of his health, he begged off from the performance of it. Concerning evolu- tion, he used to say, that there was not a particle of proof given in its favor; that it was an unproved proposition, and not a demonstration; and that the dogmatic assertions of the evolutionist prove nothing. He was greatly distinguished as a metaphysi- cian, but not less so as a linguist. Without the aid of a teacher, he learned the languages of German, Hebrew, Sanskrit, Anglo-Saxon, Spanish, and Italian; having learned French, Latin, and Greek at school. He read in the different tongues, not only to learn the construction of the language, but to get at the literature of the people. He loved language, and was an accomplished philolo- gist. It was a favorite pastime with him, when his children would gather around him in his library, to interest them in some word, and occupy them in tracing its etymology. He knew the laws gov- erning all languages — how that they proceeded HIS CHARACTER. 301 from the same roots — and it was an easy matter for him to learn a new one. The Italian language was the last one learned. The writer remembers to have seen him, a few weeks before his death, reading from an Italian Pilgrim's Progress. He remarked that he had learned the language with- out the use of a dictionary, and when one was offered him, he replied, " No, thank you ! I do not need it now." One of the finest novels ever written, "I Promessi Sposi," was taken from the library to be carried to him, when it was found that he was too sick to read it. His taste was so discriminating, that his judgment on books was often sought. It is said that when his brother Joseph, who had decided literary tastes, would visit him in his country home, it Avas his wont to read Hebrew and Greek with him, under the shade of the Avide- spreading oaks. He loved to get the truth in its "unshrunken roundness," as he expressed it. He took great pains to instruct his children in the languages. He did not often trust them to any one else ; at least till he had thoroughly grounded them in the rudiments. It is said that those he first instructed in Latin, never had any trouble with it afterwards. For mathematics, he had special aptitude and 302 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. peculiar fondness. He loved so much to solve difficult problems, that he would get the students to give him their originals, that he might have the pleasure of working them. He turned to mathe- matics for recreation when tired of other mental labor. His mind went through the steps so rapidly and so naturally, that it was with difficulty one could be made to believe that in mathematics he was not a specialist. It had such a fascination for him, that sometimes he would work on a difficult problem far into the night before being aware of it. It was his delight to assist the struggling stu- dent. If he did not ask his help, he would seek him out, and offer it. In his last sickness, he sent for one of the boys he had been accustomed to help, to come to his chamber, that he might assist him in his lessons. If we would probe to the bottom of a man's character, we must draw aside the curtain, and study him in the retirement of his home. There he drops the arts and conventionalities of society, and reveals his inner life. In that realm he is the master ; and masters wear no masks. In his de- portment toward wife and child he will inevitably expose the reigning elements of his character. If he is gentle toward his inferiors, patient in the midst of the jars and disorders of the home ; if he HIS CHARACTER. 303 is strong even when chafing under the cruelties of unprincipled men, and if he is cheerful under losses and afflictions, we know at once that the spirit that is in him was born from above. Mr. John B. Williams, a ministerial student at Richmond College, who boarded in his family a part of two years, says : Dr. Brown was one of the most indulgent fathers I ever knew. He was gentle and affectionate, both to his children and his wife, whom he so tenderly loved. He spent much of his time in prayer. It was no uncommon thing to see him in his library on his knees. It was his custom to pray at family worship for his absent children by name. At such times he never prayed for himself The hour for worship Avas always an interesting one. He would read the text in different languages — sometimes Greek, sometimes Hebrew, Latin, or French — and would usually comment on it as he read. The servants always liked him. He never allowed any- thing to excite or worry him. He lived above the ordinary frictions that beset household machinery. An old colored woman who had lived with him a long time, said the reason why " Marse Abram," never troubled about anything was that thoughts were " way up yonder." He seemed to find most ot his enjoyment in spiritual and mental exercises. My life in his home was a most happy one, and his help to me was invaluable, both as a friend and teacher. 304 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. Thanks are clue to Miss Linda Brown, Dr. Brown's eldest daughter, an accomplished gradu- ate of the Richmond Female Institute, for valuable services rendered the writer in collecting details, arranging manuscript, etc. She was much in the companionship of her father, often reading for and studying with him, and the j^icture she pre- sents of his home-life is not in the least overdrawn. Eead what she says : What my father said of his father's devotion to the interests of his children, can be said most truthfully of him. He was as kind and sympathetic as a mother, and at the same time exacted implicit obedience. He rebuked very sharply at times, but I think he never had to correct one of his children for disobedience. Never Avas a father more tenderly loved and revered. He used to tell with a great deal of fatherly pride about his eldest son, Carson. When he was only a little over three years old he would take him out to look at the new building at Hollins, but during its erection he was called to Lynchburg, and told Carson not to go near the building whilst he was gone. So the little fellow would go and sit on the stile, which separated the yard from the new building, and watch the men at work, but could not be induced to go out in the yard. One of the workmen told father on his return, that he tried his best to persuade him to come over near the house, but he would only shake his head and say, " No, papa said I must not go there whilst he was gone." HIS CHARACTER. 305 He enjoyed having his children around him ; and even when they were quite small, preferred sitting in mother's room to occupying his study. Their talk and noise never disturbed him as long as they were in a good humor; but crying he never allowed. He thought fretting was injurious and useless : and we knew by the time we were two years old that he wouldn't stand that. He was a great lover of nature, and would take his children to walk, when he would call their attention to the beauties of nature, to the forms of the leaves of the different trees, and to the flowers ; also to the animals. He would take part in their games, one of which he was particularly fond, called Logomachy, or word making. He was considered as homely by most people, but such was the admiration that his children had for him, they could not bear to hear any one say that their father was not goodlooking. Father was at home with all the poets, and must have read a great deal of poetry in his earlier days, as he repeated from memory, very frequently, line after line, and was very happy in his quotations. His children thought he had a splendid voice, and loved dearly to hear him sing. He used to sing some of Burns' national songs with so much pathos, it was impossible to listen to him and not be melted to tears. One of his favorites was "Scots wha hae wi' "Wallace bled, Scots wham Bruce has aften led, . Welcome to your gory bed. Or to victory," etc. In this connection, it must be stated that he always sang in the morning, on awaking, some 306 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. familiar hymn. It was usually a hymn of thanks- giving and praise. He was very happy in his home-life. His children were named Alexander Carson, Willie, Wimbish, Eddie, Linda, Fannie, Luther, and Minnie. Devoted to his wife, always ready to tell of her good qualities, he gave her the courtly attention of a lover. lie desired no affilia- tion with the details of housekeeping. And it was a blessed relief to him that his wife relieved him of all care in that line. He furnished the means, but she invested it. She was the financier of the household. He was so much occupied with the '' pursuit after truth," that the making of money was a matter of secondary importance to him. Gold had less glitter for him than any one I ever saw. Like Agassiz, he was content for others to make it. He said, not long before he died, in a public speech, near his home, " that the lines had fallen to him in pleasant places." He rejoiced that he had never had a death in his family. He looked for the most of his earthly enjoyment within the folds of his own family circle. He never liked to have his children stay long away from home. One of his daughters was pressed to take a position to teach, and when asked as to his views about it, said, " Why, my child, do you want to go ; are you tired of home ?" No doubt he felt, at tim3s, the tightening hold of disease on him, HIS CHAEACTER. 307 and that his time with his family was limited, and appreciated them all the more on that account. It is a matter of regret that so few of Dr. Brown's letters have been gotten. These are only given as specimens. j^ ,y ^ Peytonsburg, July 10th, 1883. I congratulate you on your marriage ! All that I know of your wife is altogether in her favor. Bring her down to see us as soon as possible. Assure her that my son's wife shall be treated as my daughter. You know how I have rejoiced that my family circle has so long been unbroken by death. You know, too, with what reluctance I have submitted to the partial relaxing of home ties by the unavoidable separations which business necessities have required. Please write to us frequently, and visit us as often as you can. I have long prayed for you as a member of my own household absent on business. I shall not cease to pray for you, but you have now your own household, and must rear your own altar. You will need prayer and Chris- tian principle to sustain you in properly discharging your new duties. May you be a faithful and affectionate husband. * ^ * :^ ^ :{(. :^ Be sure to bring Lillie to see us as soon as you can make an opportunity. Express my parental love to her. Yours with unaltered and unalterable affection. A. B. Brown. Richmond, Va., March 26th, 1884. My Dear Daughter : I thank you sincerely for your truly filial letter, and I welcome you most heartily into your new relation. 308 LIFE OF A. B. BEOWN, T)D. LLI). Eddie lias been a most dutiful son. Pie has in him, in large measure, all the elements of the best of husbands. I im- plicitly rely on your affection, your interest and your sound discretion to aid in evoking and develoi)ing them. Usually, and I suppose, altogether properly, the most inti- mate relations of a young husband and wife are with the wife's family. But you have no near relatives, and you will naturally seek father and mother, sisters and brothers in my family. I trust you will find them. Tell Eddie, and ask him to inform Willie, that Carson is suffering from rheumatism ; I hope not seriously, but I know not to what extent. He is in solitude and his spirits are probably low. I hope that they will keep themselves informed about his condition. * * :^ H^ * In conclusion, I hope you will win Eddie to a more pro- nounced and decided Christian life. The elements of true religion, I doubt not, are in him, but they have been less active, certainly less manifest than I could wish them to be. You and he would greatly delight us by an early visit. Notify us of it, if you can; but if an opportunity suddenly exhibits itself, be not afraid of taking us by surprise. Your father, A. B. Brown. It seems appropriate to introduce here the subjoined paper from the Professor of Greek, H. H. Harris, who is also the Chairman of the Faculty of Richmond College. Among the many friends of Dr. Brown, none knew him better or enjoyed more of his friendship. HIS CHARACTER. 309 When Dr. Brown came to Charlottesville, in 1859, there was in his congregation a certain University student, who was a graduate in the school of Greek, and had pursued a course of post-graduate study. The new pastor somehow heard of the student, sought him out, and with complimentary allu- sions to his supposed attainments, stated that he himself had some little knowledge of Greek, but would like to refresh his acquaintance and get up with any recent advances in philology. The young collegian was highly flattered, and readily accepted an invitation to spend an hour at the parsonage every Thurs- day afternoon. One of Plato's Dialogues — a grand discussion by the most sublime of ancient philosophers — was selected to begin with, and on the appointed day the student, having taken the pre- caution to read over a few pages, went down with a comforta- ble sense of his own importance. After a little pleasant bantering as to whether teacher or pupil should begin the recitation, the so-called teacher was induced to commence turning the Greek into English. But stop a moment, a question, presently another, and then another. " Why is this tense used ? why this peculiar position ? what is the meaning of this root, and what are its forms in the cognate tongues ? Is this sound philosophy? what led Plato into it? how might he have escaped? How does this form of expression com- pare for excellence with Hamilton's close-fitting sesquipedalian terms, or Kant's cumbrous compounds, or Cousin's clear-cut analyses? " Such are samples of the queries which came thick and fast. Some pertained to the usual lines of grammatical 310 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. study, more "vvere entirely new, and many as bright and startling as a flash of lightning. In less than half an hour, as any one who knew the two men might have anticipated, the relation of teacher and pupil was entirely reversed. The one had, indeed, more familiarity with the forms, a sort of speaking acquaintance, as it were, with the Greek words, and could make fair progress on the beaten track of the scholastic curriculum ; the other knew far better what he did know, saw deeper into all he learned, and was ever leaping over the strait bounds of school routine to revel in the rich fields of original research, or roam the breezy heights of speculative thought. At the end of the hour, not more than two dozen lines had been read, but one of the two had learned a great deal. The readings were kept up several months, and usually followed by tea and an hour of social conversation. Thus began a friendship which deepened and strengthened through two years of residence together in Charlottesville, was knit by occasional meetings after our paths diverged in 1861, and ripened into intimacy when they brought us together again alter twenty years. Then was true to the letter what Tennyson had sung : " The path by which we twain did go, Which led by tracts that j)lcascd us well, Through four sweet years arose and fell From flower to flower, from snow to snow ; " But where the path we walked began To slant the fifth autumnal slope As we descended, following Hope, There sat the shadow feared of man." HIS CHARACTER. 311 We had met almost daily in his class-room or in mine, at my home or at his, had sat together in the house of God and taken sweet counsel about the common faith, and our com- panionship ended only when it was my sad privilege to catch his last words and close his glazing eyes. Ended? Nay, rather was it not merely interrupted for a little while, to be resumed in that true spiritual converse which as far transcends the dreams we read in Plato as the dim starlight of heathen hope is surpassed by the full-orbed rays of the Sun of Righteousness ? Others have written of Dr. Brown as a man, a citizen, a Christian ; as scholar, and teacher, and preacher. My part will be to add to the wreath a modest flower, by mentioning some of his prominent characteristics as a personal friend. They will be found worthy of all imitation. First, then, he was critical. Some men cannot see either faults in a friend, or excellencies in an opponent. Dr. Brown saw both in every man. This will seem hardly credible to many who enjoyed his acquaintance. They never heard him speak ill of his neighbor; they never knew him to criticise. But a moment's reflection on his keen insight and his judicial habit will make it evident that he must have discerned in our poor humanity weakness as well as strength, faults intermixed Avith virtues. That he entertained a real respect fliteness was the sterling, hearty, Christian grace of esteeming others better than himself. He always sought, and therefore always found, good in everybody, and habitually talked rather about the good than about the evil that might be with it. Like the miner digging for gold, he allowed no shining grain to escape his notice, but gave little heed to the sand or the mud in which it was embedded. This it was that made his eulogies so appro- priate and so satisfactory to friends, without the addition of any flattery. That he also saw the faults and foibles of his friends is equally true. He did not talk about them to others, but to themselves, on proper occasions ; and this so gently, that his reproof was an "oil upon the head." When Aveakness or mistake had caused a fall and made a wound in the character of one he loved, he would not entrust it to the slow medication of time, to leave an ugly scar ; nor would he plaster over the surface, and expose the system to pysemia. With womanly tenderness he probed to the bottom, poured in the healing balm, and then closed the gash. Oh, for more of such friends, able to see our faults, and yet not make them worse by rude and painful prodding ; but to give us real help in getting rid of them. Secondly, he was sympathetic. With far more truth and depth of meaning than Roscius could conceive, Dr. Brown miuht have said : Homo sum et nil humanum a me alienum HIS CHARACTER. 313 puto. " I am a man, and nothing human count I as alien to myself." No matter what his engagement, he was ready to listen to a cry for help, and no matter what the trouble, he could enter into it. What another might have laughed at as weakness, he pitied, as being himself also weak. What to another might have been unintelligible, and would therefore seem imaginary, he could fully realize. His own lot was, in some outward respects, a hard one ; sometimes misunderstood, often unappreciated, never blessed with a competency of worldly goods, always having to struggle, he was yet not at all soured, but only led to driak deeper of the spirit of the Man of Sorrows, and to become as many-sided in heart as he was in mind. Few others who girded on the lamb-skin, as the badge of a Free and Accepted Mason, ever learned more fully, or practiced more completely, " the principles of our order — friendship, morality and brotherly love." Few were ever more ready to heed the signal of distress, in whatever form or from whatever source it might come. A touching testimony was borne to the universal love in which he was held by the students of Richmond College. A solemn stillness fell on all when the news of his unexpected death spread through the halls. There were no sports, no merry laughing for days ; but all spoke with teai'ful eyes and bated breath, and all followed in sad procession to his burial, each feeling that he had lost a personal friend. Lastly, he was eminently helpful. This follows, of course, from what has been said already. His purse, though never Avell-filled, was never so empty that he would not relieve the 314 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. bodily ^vants of the poor. In his pastorates his advice was sought on all sorts of questions, and proved singularly valuable. In the Faculty of the College there was no better adviser of young men, in the perplexities that often involve them, nor any more frequently called on for help out of difficulties with a Latin construction, a Greek etymology, an equation in conic sections, or a moot point in metaphysics; and the aid he gave Avas free, and at the same time judicious and helpful to a habit of self-reliant work. Nor was there any other to whom his colleagues would apply with more free- dom, or more certainty of valuable aid. One of them used to say that he earned his salary, even if he had done no teaching, simply by his constant stimulation of the other professors. But his chief delight, and his greatest excellence as a friend was in helping any who might be clouded with fears about their spiritual condition, or tossed with doubts about the authority of revelation. Restless as the billows on the surface of the ocean was his tireless activity of mind, running to every zone, catching every breeze, washing every shore ; calm and serene as its unshaken depths were the foundations of his simple-hearted trust in Christ Jesus. From this standpoint he marked the currents of opinion and estimated the winds of doctrine, and so could point out a sure reck- oning for the tempest-tossed, a firm anchorage for the unstable. Let me close by appropriating another canto from England's laureate, in memoriam of his friend : HIS CHARACTER. 315 Heart affluence in discursive talk From household fountains never dry ; The critic clearness of an eye, That saw through all the Muses' walk ; Seraphic intellect and force To seize and throw the doubts of man ; Impassioned logic, which outran The heaven in its fiery course; High nature amorous of the good, But touched with no ascetic gloom ; And manhood fused with female grace In such a sort the child would twine A trustful hand, unasked, in thine, And find his comfort in thy face ; All these have been, and then mine eyes Have looked on : if they looked in vain My chance is greater who remain, Nor let thy wisdom make me wise. As a conversationalist, he was the charm of the social circle; like Addison, he preferred to talk to a single individual at a time ; but, like Dr. Johnson, could entertain a room full, when drawn out from his hiding-place. His conversation was always instructive and suggestive, often gleaming with bright flashes of wit, and sparkling with the efflorescence of truth. If he was talking in a room where there were other talkers, by degrees 316 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. the liiini would subside, and he -would remain the only speaker. At times he would become so deeply absorbed in the topic under discussion, as thought after thought would come trooping up^ to his mind's eye, that he w^ould entirely forget liis surroundings. After one of these intense mental excitements, he would suddenly awake to find that his extraordinary vehemence was an occasion of merriment. Sometimes when he and Professor Hart were on a high controversial tilt, in the dining-hall of the Albemarle Institute, he would pile his plate with biscuits, taking from every servant that offered them ; and sometimes, he would stop in the street with a friend, and gesticulate in the most decisive manner, to the amusement of passers-by. I never knew one to be so completely the slave of thought as he was. Rev. John B. Williams gives the foUow^ing inci- dent which illustrates this fact : " The last time the Dan River Association met with the Hunting Creek Church in Halifax, Dr. Brow^n reached the Church but a few minutes before the introductory sermon was to be preached. It was soon ascer- tained that the one appointed to preach the sermon would not be present, and it was decided to invite Dr. Brown to take his place. He tried, .as usual, to show that almost any body suited HIS CHARACTER. 317 better than he did, but all in vain. At last he consented, with the understanding that he should be allowed time enough to take a little walk, and collect his thoughts before the sermon. He started, and while walking, was so absorbed in his sermon, that he forgot where he was, and was lost in the forest. Some of the brethren suspected that to be the trouble and set out to look for him. They soon found him and brought him back. He walked right up in the pulpit, and preached one of the finest sermons ever listened to." The reader has had abundant evidence in the pre- ceding pages, of Dr. Brown's ability as a preacher. As a theologian, he was sound and logical. He was invaluable to the students of Richmond Col- lege, who came under his influence. He sought to indoctrinate them scripturally, and watched them, as they entered on their fields of labor, with eager interest. He believed in the Bible, in its entirety, and had no sympathy with the new theories that seek to mutilate it. Surely the tes- timony of one so thoughtful, so discriminating, and so learned, is not to be despised. The Bible was his daily text-book, which he studied with ever-increasing assiduity. He read it in many languages, but his Greek Testament was perhaps his favorite book. It is said that no accurate 318 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. estimate can be made of the number of Greek Testaments he wore out in his saddle pockets when a country pastor. Ofttimes, just before leaving home, he would put the different mem- bers of the family to hunt up the etymology of some word that he had neglected to search for in the preparation of his sermon. Read what Dr. Andrew Broaddus, of Caroline, Va., whose style as a writer is as pure and trans- parent as his own Christian character, says : Dr. Brown's mind was pre-eminrutly analytical, and, at the same time, it Avas distinguished by an acumen — a power of penetration and a comprehensiveness of grasp uuequaled in the ministry in any denomination in the State. The thread of his reasoning followed a proposition with unerring accuracy, through the most intricate windings of a laljyrinth, to its ulliuiute conclusion, while, as he went on, his keen eye penetrated to its depth every side passage that opened into the main track of thought. He saw a subject in all its bearings, and could trace it in all its connections, and for- getting that others were not gifted with his intellectual acute- ness, he sometimes pursued an abstruse line of reasoning along which many of his hearers could not follow him. His style Avas eminently didactic. It was copious, but not diffuse ; elevated, but not stilted; accurate, but not formal. Public speakers maybe divided into tliree classes: first, those who, while speaking are thinking only of themselves — who are all HIS CHARACTER. 319 the time sayiug to themselves, " Didn't they think that was sublime!" "They must have regarded that as very eloquent;" " They cannot but think I am a great wit," and so on. Then, there are those who think only of the effect of what they are saying on their hearers, and who are constantly asking, in their own minds, " Will they accept that truth?" " Will they be convinced by that argument?" "Will they be moved by that appeal ?" etc. Then, again, there are those who become so absorbed in the subjects they are discussing, that they are rendered almost entirely oblivious of their hearers, and of their surroundings. This was frequently the case with Robert Hall, and I think, not uufrequently the case with Dr. Brown. Though he was very much annoyed by any disturbance in the congregation, yet, when the people were orderly and attentive he sometimes became so swallowed up by his subject, as to forget where he was, and what he was doing. On one occa- sion I saw him, while preaching, come from behind the desk and stand in front of it on the narrow moulding at its base, holding on to the desk behind him with both hands, so as to keep from falling, and continuing to preach as if he had been standing on the floor of the pulpit. In character and deportment. Dr. Brown was the most unassuming man of prominence I ever knew. He always took the "lowest room," and hence his brethren always delighted to urge him to "go up higher." He never lost the engaging simplicity of childhood, and of him it might be said as truthfully as of any one the writer has ever known, " behold, an Israelite iudeed, in whom there is no guile." It is thought 320 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. by some, that superior intellectual gifts are usually coupled with a cold heart ; that the light of the intellect dazzles, but does not warm. If this be generally true (and on that point I here express no opinion), Dr. Brown's case certainly formed a marked exception. His heart was as warm as his intellect was brilliant. His hearty grasp of the hand and his cordial words of greeting furnished an index of his genial, loving nature. A lady of my acquaintance, who is herself adorned with no ordinary attractions of person, mauneis, mind and heart, says she always liked to meet Dr. Brown on the street, because, instead of bowing or lifting his hat, as he passed on, after the manner of most town-people, he stopped, and, seizing her hand in his cordial grasp, he accosted her with a beaming smile and pleasant words of greeting. In intellect and heart, in motive and aim, in character and conduct, Dr. Brown was a man among a thousand. A. B. Spakta, Va., December 23. He aimed at thoroughness in everything he undertook. His own thoughts, though fresh and suggestive, had to be supported by undisputed authority. On this account his sermons abounded with gems of thought and vivid illustrations of the classic and recondite order. Prof Hart says his imagination was his highest gift. Certain it is, that his thoughts were often lit up by brilliant imagery that captivated the hearei by its forceful applica- HIS CHARACTER. 321 tion. One not accustomed to close consecutive thinking might not always follow him entirely; but he was so eminently a Gospel preacher, that the listener was sure to gain real benefit. His gestures, considered in the light of all prede- termined lines of grace, were awkward — though his most appreciative auditors thought them en- tirely fitted to his thoughts. His appearance to the stranger hearing him for the first time, might not be specially attractive ; but to those who could receive real truth as it came freshly hewn from the quarry of God's providence and grace, no greater intellectual and spiritual feast could be offered than to listen to one of his thoroughly pre- pared sermons. It is a matter of real regret that none of his printed sermons or addresses do him justice, for, though he wrote the line of thought he was to follow, he always trusted to the inspiration of the moment for help in his closing sentences ; and often his best thoughts came to him fresh while on his feet. The following, furnished by the eloquent pas- tor of Court Street Church, of Portsmouth, is a brilliant extract from the celebrated Petersburg speech : Dr. Brown was not only a profound scholar, but he was a profound thinker. He had mastered a vast army of other 322 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. men's thoughts ; but he marshaled, and disciplined, and uni- formed them by his own genius, so that when he led them forth they were as irresistible as the Macedonian phalanx. He discovered many solid and beautiful stones, out of which he built the temple of his thoughts, but the architecture was his own conception, and the polishing and carving were the work of his own hands. Dr. Brown was especially felicitous and impressive in his illustrations. His illustrations were not only strikingly beau- tiful, but they were clothed in the purest and grandest language. One I remember with especial pleasure, as, at the time I heard it drop from his lips, it thrilled me with an ennobling emotion. He was delivering an address on the work of the State Mission Board, before the General Association of Virginia, during its session in the city of Petersburg, in 1871. The idea he desired to impress upon his brethren was that of mutual support. The missionaries were at the front; those of us in the rear should freely give them our support, and he said: "Mr. President — I suppose the battle of Gettysburg decided the fate of the Confederacy. At the time that Pickett's Division made its splendid charge, the angel of history hovered over the scene to write down, a nation is born; but the division which was to support Pickett's failed to respond, and the broken squadrons of the Northern army rallied, and plucked from their hands their hard-earned victory ; and that angel turned away with tears of iron, and with a pen of fate, wrote, the lost cause." A. E. Owen. HIS CHARACTER. 323 But the best has not been told. His strength lay in his inner life. His soul drank deep and copious draughts from the well of salvation. He was not only a Christian in name, but a living embodiment of the religion of our Lord. He spent much of his time in prayer. It was no unusual thing for one of his familj^ to enter his library and find him on his knees. The influence of his piety pervaded the household, calming and subduing all. It is indeed rare to see intellectual and spiritual attainments existing in the same individual in equal proportions. Those who knew him best, hardly knew which to admire most, his mighty, ripened intellect, or his devout, unselfish spirit. The one heightened the other. Hugh Miller says that the literary world would never have known a John Bunyan if his religious emotions had not been so powerfully stirred. Activity of religious feelings quickens intellectual activity. Col. Thomas J. Evans, one of Richmond's most popular lawyers, writes of him in the church and home. It is a loving tribute from one of his best- loved friends : Some men are great ouly ou great occasions and on great subjects. Dr. Brown was great on these occasions, and on what are considered small, as well. This paper will treat of him briefly — and, oh, how imper- 324 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. ' feotly — in the Sunday-school, in the pew, in the social circle, and in his liorae. Great man as he was, he regarded it no condescension to teach a class of young men in the Sunday-school. Always punctual in his attendance, his class followed his example. It is no exaggeration to say, that no class ever had better instruction. He was regularly in his pew, and joined heartily in all the public exercises of the church. No better listener was ever seen in the church. He seemed to drink in everything that was said and done, from the giving of the notices to the bene- diction, inclusive. While others criticised, he always found something good in the sermon, and it seemed a pleasure to him to speak of that good. In going down the aisle, after the congregation was dismissed, he has been often heard, in a short sentence, to make a most valuable application of some point made by the preacher. Yes, in going down the aisle! It was not his habit, as the manner of some is, to rush out of the church, as if anxious to get rid of the preacher, the people. and the house of God. No! He delighted to linger awhile, and then walk slowly down ; stopping, now and then, and shaking the hands of the brethren and sisters, and speaking words of kindness to them. His contributions to the church, and the various boards and organizations connected with it, were systematic and liberal ; and whenever the public collection, for general or extra purposes, was taken, he never allowed the basket to pass by him unnoticed. Though not blessed with wealth, he was HIS CHARACTER. 325 ever generous in his gifts. The last act of his life, in' the House of God, was a generous gift. In the social circle he was charming. Here, as in church, he was a good listener, never monopolizing the conversation. When drawn out, however, he was a wonderful talker. He was not a speech-maker in conversation ; he talked. Full of information and original thought, he never failed to interest and instruct any company of which he formed a part. The writer of this humble tribute remembers to have been in a social gathering, a few years ago, at which there were present two professors from the Theological Seminary (then at Green- ville), two professors from Richmond College, three pastors of Richmond, and one pastor from South Carolina, all of them good talkers. Di\ Brown took part in the conversation. He had to leave earlier than the others, and after he left the opinion was universally exjDressed that he was head and shoulders above them all in conversational power. He enjoyed a joke, even if told on himself. The following was told on him in a small company at his own house, at Avhich he laughed heartily, and said the old sister was right. He had preached for the congregation of another denomination in Richmond, The people were greatly pleased with the dis- course, and as they came out of the house were speaking admiringly of it. On the side walk, just at the church door, some ladies stopped and were praising the effort of the preacher. A young sister said to an older one, " Was not that a power- ful sermon ? " The response was, " Yes, powerful long." He Avas remarkably well posted about public men and pub- 326 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. lie measures, and took pleasure in talking about them to his friends in the private circle. Had he been in Congress he could have discussed, with credit to himself and profit to the country, the tariff or any other revenue question, or public measure, with Tucker, or Randall, or Sherman, or Beck. In his home he "was the Christian patriarch, ruling and reigning with love and intelligence. He was a pattern of a Christian husband and father. He regarded the hearth-stone as the corner-stone of the commonwealth. Others besides his immediate family often enjoyed his home. He was "given to hospitality." He greatly enjoyed the presence of a few friends at his table, which never groaned with a profusion of viands, but displayed frugality and plenty, dispensed with a hearty and unostentatious generosity. He enjoyed his friends. But, oh ! how his friends enjoyed him. The little company would retire to his study, (he was not much of a parlor entertainer,) and there around the cheerful fire draw him out in conversation. It was interesting to see him smoke his pipe, which he did most awkwardly. It was edify- ing and interesting to hear his words, which were well-chosen and flowed freely. He never gave his views upon subjects with which he was not familiar. On these, he would seek the views of others. On a subject which he had mastered, he would go to the very bottom roots, however far below the surface — give us the trunk, then the branches, then the leaves, and the blossoms and the fruit. If the wit and wisdom of Dr. Brown given to such friends on such occasions, co"uld HIS CHAlRACTER. 327 have been published, we should have a book superior to that of Sydney Smith. His library was not large, but was well selected, and the books inside and outside showed that they had been handled and read. He was once asked how it was that he had so small a library. He replied, "I never buy books to ornament the shelves, and I have more books now than I can read with profit to myself or benefit to others. The truth is, that more than half of the books that are published ought to be burned. They are either useless or hurtful ; and yet if men would read even half the books they have they would be wiser if not better men." Dr. Brown was a Free Mason, and was not ashamed of it. He was once asked by a distinguished DD. of his Church — " Brown, how is it that a man of your good sense can belong to the Masons ? " He answered, " Doctor, the feelings of my heart prompt me to unite with any organization of my fellow- men which has for its object the amelioration of human suffering, the cultivation of fraternity among the human race, the elevation of human character, and which teaches and practices lessons of charity." Thomas J. Evans. Richmond, Va., March 4, 1886. In reckoning the work wrought by Dr. Brown, we cannot call to our aid any statistical record which he ever kept. He never kept a diary, and rarely furnished for the press any record of his work. How many sermons he preached, how 328 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. many souls were led to Christ by his ministrations, how many saints were inspired with loftier pur- poses, how many ministers were quickened by contact with him, in all the powers of their being, how many youthful minds were kindled into noble aspirations, and how many scholarly men were cheered in their studies by the force of his exam- ple — these are questions which it would be vain to attempt to answer. Dr. Brown was not a pushing, noisy man. He did his part restfully, and not under the whip of popular a})plause. In estimating his contribution to the improvement of his race, we must look mainly to his character. He set in motion influ- ences which, while silent, were potent and undy- ing. If it is impossible to estimate witli statistical accuracy the actual amount of work which he performed, it is yet more impossible to calculate the influences which silently flowed from his strono; aiid well-rounded life. He wrouorht on the character of his fellow-men with a power, so gentle and silent that not even those who felt it knew its full worth. He always seemed to be uncon- scious of his own strength. He retired from the most thrilling performances of his public life seemingly insensible to the impression he had produced on others ; and that too while they were HIS CHAKACTER. 329 completely overmastered by his power. If he was oblivious of his strength at his greatest moments, it is easy to believe that he was utterly forgetful of those gracious influences which went out from him like convection currents from a heated body. He was not a popular leader. In public enterprises, he rarely took a conspicuous part. He was too sensitive to endure the clash of high debate, and was wanting in that art which is so often found among men ambitious to lead. His strength was in his simplicity and honesty of nature. Like a holy Magnet he attracted to himself the best elements of the community in which he lived, and breathed upon them his own excellent spirit. Weak men drew near to him because they instinctively felt that he could love them. He had so much of the Saviour's kindli- ness of temper and openness of manner that they believed in him with a sort of transforming faith. Bad men were afraid of him, they knew that in him thc}^ could find no sympathy with their evil ways. And so it came to pass that his whole life w^as a sermon — inspiring the good, pouring oil into wounded hearts, and giving rebuke to sin. What he did was well done. He never slighted the smallest task. Even Avith ambition as his 330 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. incentive, ho always struck high, but with the love of Christ as his constraining force, he always did his work with thorough fidelity. He made the most of himself, and did his best for Christ. In that small circle of God's faithful ones he had a place. For two scores of years he stood at his post with quivering nerve and weary limb, waiting for his Lord's coming. When at last the King's chariot suddenly appeared, he entered it with joy, and went up to his crown. LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. 331 SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE BAPTIST GENERAL ASSOCIATION OF VIRGINIA, At Culpepee, on June 1, 1876. The harvest truly is plenteous, but the laborers are few ; pray ye, therefore, the Lord of the harvest that he will send forth laborers into his vineyard. — 3Iatt. ix. 37, 3S. Leaving to the more vigorous and the more adventurous, heights inviting rather to the tourist than to the husbandman, I limit myself to-day to the humbler field of Christian thought, which has been longest the scene of fertilizing culture. This field still promises far the most abundant and the mo§t useful products. I should, in vain, solicit the aid of the Graces in my unambitious task. Genius could, indeed, win them from their favorite haunts in woods and mountains to attend and smile upon the useful. For Virgil, after sporting with them awhile in their resorts, persuaded them to follow him to the theatre of humble toil, and to bestow on the tillage of lands, the tendance of flocks, and the rearing of bees, an elegance unrivalled in ancient literature. And the Christian utilities have often furnished them not only an infinitely worthier, but a not less happy employment. Many precious Christian Georgics, unsurpassed models of reason and sentiment, of diction and rhythm, have shown every excellence of composi- tion to be equally at home amid the very commonplaces and simplicities of the faith. And as I go into my labor, uncheered 332 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. by the company of the Graces, I cannot allege, in apology for their uukinduess to the workman, that they disdain the work. Our passage follows as a change — not a mixture — of figures on a striking delineation by the great painter of the chosen race as a flock in part misled, in part abandoned by incom- petent and unfaithful shepherds, scattered and torn and famishing. This vivid and tcjuching picture did not ade- quately represent that aspect of His work which was then most deeply moving the Saviour's heart ; its pressing, imperi- ous urgency. The hour on which the Son of God had been at least four thousand years converging all the arrangements of Providence was at hand. The zeal of the Lord's house, which had been burning in the bosom of the Son of Mary with steadily increasing glow from its repression or deferment in his twelfth year, was now at its full intensity. His Father's business was ripe, ready, clamorous. And the richest of all imaginations, which certainly manifested its superiority over every other imagination in didactic precision even more than in grandeur, painted it as a white harvest waving its invitations to the sickle. By this image, the Saviour, it would seem, is seeking to impress upon his followers — aye, and upon himself, immediate, unremitting, intense labor for the present conver- sion of eouls; in other words, the main features of the "now" l)]an. Harvest, less than sowing, or tilling, or anything else, admits of no delay. Harvest, beyond anything else, strains the energies of the laborer to highest tension. The life-long har- vester may not indeed find it possible, or even desirable, to maintain one unvarying pitch of utmost effort. But how high, • my soul, is the tone of ordinary endeavor demanded by this figure of severe and unremitting toil ! The labor must be strenuous, for the work is of waitiuir, crying, readiness. The >\ orld is not a wilderness to be cleared, not a fallow, not a plantation, but a harvest. Every human SERMON BEFORE THE GENERAL ASSOCIATION. 333 being on eartli, of rational years, is to be reached as soon as possible, and without preliminary, by the herald of the cross. Every human heart should be summoned and assaulted — not besieged — with the claims of the gospel. It is perilous to abandon the child to habits of cold indifference or active resistance to Christianity till the schoolmaster prepares him for an intelligent and (vain hope!) dispassionate investigation of all the subtleties of the Athanasian creed. It is cruel to bid the frontier village wait for the missionary till the chaotic elements of its society stratify — till law and order spread their shield over him — and till Satan sweeps and garnishes and fortifies. It is folly and semi-infidelity to spend your strength in building up for the savage idolater a conscience that shall tremble at the full indictment of the law, and an intelligence that shall gi apple with all the refinements of apologies for the faith designed for polished and fastidious infidels. But how much worse is it to neglect him altogether ? It is as well a violation of sound reason as a recreancy to Christ to wait for heathen systems to die out, whereof they exhibit no very encouraging symptoms, that you may embrace their period of decay as a favorable time for the introduction of the gospel, when it is evident that no time is less favorable to the recep- tion of the truth than that season of indifference or despair which ensues on the disintegration of a national religion. Preparatory work will, in the providence of God, be done ; but work done to-day, with an eye single to the one great end, is the only legitimate preparation for to-morrow. And all waiting to be pioneered by science, or towed along by com- merce —all pusillanimous hovering on the rear of conquest — all pile-driving to lay a foundation for the temple of God, is exploded by the single word harvest. Earnest, immediate work, directly expended on human souls, is the only suggestion I find in the figure. A succession 334 LIFE OF A. B. BFvOWN, DD. LLD. of sketches from the hand of the Great Des'.Grner prcgen'.s other aspects of Christian kibor, Avhich it would be worse than wasted ingenuity and patience to force upon this passage. It may not, liowever, be superfluous to observe that the Avork couched in this imagery exerts far more of cultural and dis- ci]>liuary influence, both on the laborer and on the field, than is even glanced at in the illustration itself. Labor for the immediate conversion of souls is not the one single and sufil- cient gymnastic of the Christian worker, but it is the exercise most extensively and most liighly conducive to spiritual devel- opment. The gospel, as preached to sinners, is by no means the exclusive aliment of the growing saint, but it is a diet con- taining all the elements of life, and, as is witnessed in all genuine revivals, is ever appetizing and ever nutritious. It furnishes society no forms of government, but materials better than all forms, at home with any form which does not repress it, and quietly tending to crystallize or rather to grow into the best forms. Oh, then, with the sharpest sickles Ave can com- mand, but with no needless loitering about grindstones or plying of paddles, with the very minimum of .shadings and vacations that brain and muscle will tolerate, with no aflTecta- tion of graceful strokes — for who but the giants can be grace- ful in the performance of plain, hard work? — let us move forward in the field Avhite to the harvest. But is the demand for evangelistic effort clamorous now as when the Saviour uttered the words of our passage? The field here had in immediate view is Palestine, if not only Galilee ; but this representation, like others constructed Avith divine skill, solicits reference to a Avider sphere. The great commis- sion expressly points to the Avider sphere, and enjoins the precise kind of eff"ort already indicated. The demand of the larger field is certainly as real, it is probably as intense, as that of the section to Avhich attention is here directed. Christ SERMON BEFORE THE GENERAL ASSOCIATION. 335 had as yet no official laborers to aid him, the statement in our passage being the preamble to the resohitiou to send forth the apostles. But the whole body of his disciples whom he called laborers, and called to be laborers, was working Avith the ac- tivity of vital, nascent leaven ; or, to speak in accordance with the figure here commended to us, every disciple was busy reap- hooking the corners of the field, or gleaning the straggling heads of grain which escaped the majestic sweep of the Great Toiler's scythe. But I will discount all labor save that of Jesus only. If he had been the only preacher, it is doubtful whether the evangelization of Galilee, to say nothing of its immeasurable superiority in kind, has in extent and degree, ever been equalled. Christ found his nation in the very hush and gaze of eagerest expectancy. He was interviewed by numberless caterers for the public hunger, and his every utter- ance was seized and circulated as the most sensational news. His march was thronged, blockaded, waylaid by anxious list- eners. His teachings were so strikingly original, so wide apart from what man ever spake, so sharply and distinctly pic- turesque, so stinging to the conscience, and yet so grateful to the heart, that every memory became their record, and every hearer could render them with the accuracy of a stenographic reporter. Surely, then, we are entitled to appropriate to the present field, with great if not increased emphasis, the language of our passage : The harvest truly is plenteous, but the labor- ers are few. Pardon the offence against homiletic symmetry in this too protracted explanation and vindication of the Master's imagery, and follow me in further considering the subject which he brings before us as it seems naturally to dis- tribute itself into three divisions, viz. : the vast dimensions of the harvest field, the frightful inadequacy of the laboring force, and the divinely indicated source of supply. I. The population of the earth is not in itself immeasurable. 336 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. Fi;_aires may at ?oine day state it with approximate accuracy. But the imagination will never conceive it with full vividness, and the heart will never adequately respond to its peril, which will continue to baHle arithmetic. Perhaps the field rather gains than loses in impressivenet^s on imagination and heart by its stubborn refusal so far to submit to accurate measure- meut. The indefinitely vast is universally recognized as the chief element of the sublime. The grandest master of rhythmic eloquence would have disgusted or amused where he has profoundly awed, if he had subjected the vague hugeness of Satan's figure to the tailor's tape, or had substituted for a wilderness of burning marl, stretching "nine times the space that parted day from night to mortal men," the definite reve- lations of the surveyor's chain. This element of grandeur will, however, alwa3'S remain to our subject; for if definite statement ever be reached, overwhelming indefiniteness in its conception will still continue. Immensely the larger part of tlie bewildering array will be totally lost to heart and fanc)\ Commodore Maury, an authority pre-eminent for ability and painstaking accuracy, states the population of the globe at 1,350,000,000. Johnson, the publisher of the mammoth atlas, who certainly had access to able and careful authorities, reduces the estimate to — he is not particular to say what — between 1,000,000,000 — that is ten thousand times ten thou- sand ten times repeated — and 1,200,000,000. Now Maury, the leader of mankind in his department of science, Avas an humble and devout Christian, and an ardent friend of missions. And it is perfectly safe to say that, if he had felt compelled to reduce his estimate to the lower number, neither his prayers nor his pecuniary contributions for the conversion of the world would have been lessened. And that, if Johnson was indifferent to the spiritual interests of mankind, the assurance that he ought to have added from 150,000,000 to 350,000,000 SERMON BEFORE THE GENERAL ASSOCIATION. 337 to his enumeration would not even have tended to change his indifference into zeal. Nothing strikes and appals me more in the uncompassable proportions of these amazing statistics than that the population of twenty-five New Yorks or five hundred Richmonds, with an aggregate death rate of some ten thousand a week, is summarily dismissed, as if its reten- tion would savor of finical minuteness amid so overwhelming round numbers. I call these numbers overwhelming. Ah ! the misfortune from the necessity of their nature is, that they so little stir and overwhelm. The most prodigious of them are pronounced with the tithe of a single breath, and contract themselves into . a linear inch or two on the printed page. They coalesce, they run into each other like the segments of a steamboat table, or like the sections of an extensible fishing rod, each section except the first and last nesting, telescoping into another of ten times its magnitude. To fold them into portable shape, how easy ! Yet we pass over them in their condensed form with much less impression than we would dash across a prairie on a lightning train. To expand them for full impression on sense or imagination is a feat that, in the case of large num- bers, presents almost or altogether insuperable difficulty. The grandeur of the Centennial Exhibition is not half so difficult to grasp. If, disregarding the clear, varied and permanent impressions which weeks of earnest scrutiny alone could give, you would be content with a striking idea of its mere vastness and magnificence, this you might gain in a comparatively short time. You cannot in a short time familiarize your con- ceptions and your emotions with one billion three hundred and fifty millions of immortal souls. The imagination demands time, and, like the reason of the philosopher, dealing with the infinity of God, the more it is exerted, the more time it will demand. The school-boy will go trippingly through his tril- 338 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. lions and quadrillions, and think he knows all about them. But an acute metapliysician tells us that five is as large a number as we can grasp by direct intuition, and that larger numbers are distinctly conceived by piecing together parcels of this or a smaller dimension. And an able writer suggests that the one thousand eight hundred and seventy-six feet Avhich measure the front of the main Centennial building, can only be realized by comparing them with some nearly equal known space, or marking them on the ground If you would realize our work-field, since you cannot fix it before you on actual vision, as Christ did the scattered sheep of bis flock» you must laboriously, and, with meagre success, spread it before your imaginations. Number, l)y long habit, is most easily conceived in association with the measures of space. Then imagine the inhabitants of the world brought together. Twelve hundred times the area of the Centennial grounds, four times the extent of the original District of Columbia, were every square inch of it available, would afford them only scant and thronged standing room. Fancy them — delightful dream ! — all assembled to hear the word of God. The largest county in your State would scarcely contain the houses in which more than one million of preachers should address each more than one thousand hearers of age to attend to the gospel. StiU these millions are running into each other, and the mind glides over them without adhesion with far more than the fiicility with which the cheated eye sweeps across the deceptive face of unbroken w'aters. Yet they exhibit every diversity to awaken our interest and assist our calculations. God marshals them before us clothed in a fadeless livery, recognized at a glance by all who are not perversely color-blind. And they, themselves, indefinitely variegate the procession by their own peculiar titles to recognition in an endless difference of laws and governments, of languages, histories and traditions, of SERMON BEFORE THE GENERAL ASSOCIATION. 339 religions and ceremonies, of creeds and opinions, of manners and customs, of diet and dress. Wheel the grand muster of nations through every evolution that fancy can suggest, the scene will grow before you. But especially study the attitude of the world to enlightenment and Christianity. Assemble the nations, diversified as before, and arrange them in ascend- ing ranks according to civilization. Place lowest eighty mil- lions of degraded savages, scarcely above the beasts and reptiles they worship. Place next one hundred and twenty millions of fierce and godless nomads madly surging agaiust each other, and against civilization, in deadly struggle for land and pas- turage. Put still higher some eight hundred millions of half- civilized human beings, most of them in abjectest poverty and misery, groaning under iron despotisms of mind and body which have been growing stronger and harsher for from twenty to forty centuries. Surmount the array with civilized men. Now a division of most painful interest is to be made. A line, inclusive of nearly all the highest level, exclusive of nearly all the lowest, but jag'ged and eccentric as the light- ning's path, shall run through the scene, and separate what, with utmost license of language and in the very extravagance of charity, we call Christian nations from unvaried and unmit- igated heathendom. This line reveals a proportion startling to the extent of dismay. Three-fourths of the human family are still, in this last quarter of the nineteenth century, in utter and ruinous ignorance of the saving truth ! With much of sorrow and with something, I trust, of remorse for our former "inhumanity to man" in his greatest need, we dismiss our imaginary assembly, and remand to their respective positions on the earth's surface the millions, most of them starving for lack of the bread of life. Now geographical magnitudes scarcely less prodigious, and much more appalling, confront us. Weeks and months of difficult and often perilous 340 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. journey await us as we set out in any direction from our centre in search of the more distant and the more hopeless. And then for months spent in reaching their abodes, we have years to spend in reaching the understandings, the consciences and the hearts of even a few. Ah ! I have not moved you with numbex-s. I was fearing it. I might have known it. The four hundred millions of China, persistently and skilfully paraded in their tear-compelling plight before Christendom, have been scarcely equal contestants for sympathy and aid with the few thousands of the Sandwich Islands. And this surely has not been because numbering more, the Chinese have, in the scales of spiritual worth and promise, weighed less. Despairing of the attempt to expand reason and fancy and heart to the dimensions of these wide-stretching and bewilder- ing numerals, let us try another course. Let us stand face to face with a single one of their constituent units. And though it presents itself cased in rags, crushed and dwarfed under despotism, and all crimsoned with sin, we feel irresistibly impelled to uncover before it. A soul! It is the image, though the fearfully marred and distorted image of God. A soul ! It is the mirror, if not indeed the constituent of all other grandeurs ; and, save God, grander than all it mirroi-s. It is varied and wide as the earth, and deep as the unfathom- able sea. The certain possessor of immortality, it is the prob- able heir of a constantly and eternally accelerating growth. And, oh, deepest dread ! oh, highest hope ! It shall continue forever to sting itself into racking spasms of keenest remorse, or to thrill under the ever-brightening vision of God. The sons of God shouted for joy when first the material universe, touched into harmony by its great Creator, poured upon their ears its full-voiced anthem. With still higher rapture do they shake the upper welkin when one sinner repenteth. But only the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls, the infinitely loving SERMON BEFORE THE GENERAL ASSOCIATION. 341 Father of spirits, feels an adequate joy when a single dead soul is made alive and a single lost soul is found. From this point of view, my brethren, look out on your work, so dizzying in the multitude, so staggering in the magni- tude of its objects. And remember that while you look, death is reaping and hell is garnering. Men are lost, and lost to deep and eternal perdition, without the gospel. Banish from your minds that fond but wretched delusion, so paralyzing to the zeal of the preacher, so drugged with false and fatal secu- rity to the hearer, that man is saved by anything which he really believes. Men may worship after the manner which some call honesty and sincerity ; their Avay may seem to them right ; but unless it be God's chosen way, their end is death, though they be as sincere as the chief of sinners when he per- secuted the church of Christ. Hero -worshippers may laud and magnify the brilliant spectacle of conspicuous zeal, whether it be salutary or destructive, as boys gaze with delighted won- der on a mighty conflagration, whether it burns out a jungle or burns down a city ; but no zeal shall win the approval of the universal Judge, except zeal according to the knowledge of saving truth. The Saviour did indeed say to a certain individual, "According to thy faith, so be it unto thee." But that faith was perfectly right in object, and astonishing even to himself in degree. Latitudinarians strangely and to their own hurt Avrest this Scripture, when they pervert it into a proposition which stultifies the Redeemer's purpose of living and dying to be the object of a fiiith unto salvation. Hesitate not, in the discharge of your duty to Christ, to give the world that without which there is no salvation, from fear of a possible aggravation of its guilt. In preaching the gospel we do not impose, we only present a great and perilous responsibility. In withholding it, we clearly assume responsi- bility for the blood of souls. How strange that men, who 342 LIFE OF A. B. BKOWN, DD. LLD. know that every new opportunity and blessing is burdened with new obligations, should shrink from proffering the greatest good, lest it be possibly converted into a curse. But we can- not, in obedience to a craven and cruel fear, which would brand every blessing as a snare, consent that our children and our country shall sink into savagery ; and we will not, in dis- obedience to the gracious Master, deny to the perishing mil- lions of earth the indispensable cup of salvation lest they madly dash it from their lips. II. I pass to the second division— the inadequacy of the supply of gospel laborers. This may be the more briefly dis- patched as having been largely implied in the preceding view. If we discount from the three hundred and fifty millions of nominal Christians the millions of the superstitious who have no knowledge of salvation, the infidels who have no belief in it, the grossly criminal and vicious who have no hope of it, the tens of millions of the frivolous and worldly who have no care for it, the array would shrink like Gideon's army when sifted by the Almighty. There need be no hesitation in saying the number of earnest Christian workers, viewed in comparison with the immense field, before which our imaginations and hearts have just now sunk prostrate and discouraged, is alarm- ingly small ; yea, but for the promise of the ever-continued support of Him in whose might one shall chase a thousand, it would be ludicrou.sly inadequate. We want earnest preachers of the gospel, wholly devoted to their work — and w^e want them in multitudes — men whose enthusiasm for their mission, and whose facility in their task, shall make preaching a luxury — men to whom, in the seasons and aspects of labor which cannot be a delight, prenching shall be a controlling duty — men whose thorough equipment for their sacred office shall, with the blessing of heaven, make preaching a grand success — men who, laboring exclusively SERMON BEFORE THE GENERAL ASSOCIATION. 343 for the spiritual good of their race, shall produce a larger and better effect on the harmony, the purity, the culture, and, finally, the material interests of society, than any other class of agents. Such men will, in their official relations, ahjure politics, only demanding of statesmen, as our Baptist fathers did, full liberty of conscience for all. Thank God, I stand to-day freely enlarged on the very site of the Culpeper prison, from which, a little more than one hundred years ago, Ireland, looking out on the blue hills to the north and the wilderness on the south, put up this only petition to civil government : "Ou the mountains LET me labor. In the desert LET me tell How He died, the matchless Saviour, To redeem the world from hell." I repeat, we need a great increase of ministers, even for this country and this State. We do indeed want a great increase of the ability and zeal of the Christian ministry of our coun- try — confessedly respectable as that ministry now is. But we should still greatly need more preachers. We do not properly sustain those we have. But preaching must stimulate to the support of the present ministry, and to a demand for an in- creased ministerial force. In this sense, John Kerr's remark is certainly true, that the best preparation for preaching is preaching. I cannot enlarge on this point. I say, on thorough conviction and with a full heart, that there is great lack of the preached word in our beloved Commonwealth ; that I do know our monthly preaching can never fully indoctrinate our people; and that, in a few miles of our country churches, are neighborhoods deplorably in want of the gospel. Preaching is teaching. If we would teach, we must have smaller classes of pupils, and get into closer, freer, more fre- quent contact with them. The propagation of the gospel is, in some respects, like the propagation of light by radiation. 344 LIFE OF A. B. BIIOAVN, DD. LLD. It is more like the diffusion of heat by convections — the spreading of fermentation by contact. We want not hxboring preachers alone. Christ demands the co-operation of the whole Christian body. His few labor- ers at the date of the pronunciation of our passage were all unofficial men and women. Whatever may be the doubt con- cerning an apostolic succession, there can be no doubt of a continuity of the laity, as it is called, or an unbroken succes- sion of believing men and women. If there is a controversy about rank and precedence between this continuous body and lordly prelates, the laity may, without breach of modesty, allege, "Before apostles were we are!" Preceding the apostles in itinerant labors of evangelization on the first persecution — summoning Peter before their tribunal to render account of the first preaching of the gospel to the Gentiles — concurring with the apostles in what is falsely called the first general council at Jerusalem, they may claim that it is now no humil- iation to the tallest of the clergy to bow to the majesty of the people. The great teaching force of this body, when earnestly and consciously exerted, and the greater unconscious influence of their active piety in their churches and in their business, are simply incalculable. I have already deplored the com- parative inefficacy of attacks on sin at long range. The highest effect results from the grapple of man with man. And just here is the advantage and the superiority of the people with what may be disparagingly called their small arms. The world will not be converted till there is a great increase of this laboring force in all lauds. But what crying need of preachers before this high vantage ground shall be reached ? I may select from the bewildering and saddening number of l)laces where spiritual laborers are deplorably scarce, a few which we are urged to supply by the highest and dearest immediate interests, or by solemn assumption and committal. SERMON BEFORE THE GENERAL ASSOCIATION. 345 The Chinese are streaming into the Western and South-western portions of our country in currents of annually increasing volume. Laborers not a few are needed to convert these por- tentous barbaric waves into an overflow, freighted with spiritual fertility. Sanctified patriotism would further counsel the copious impregnation of the foreign source of so perilous a deluge with the salt of truest conservatism. Here our most precious secular interests unite with distinct committal and solemn pledge to demand a large re-enforcement of the Chinese mission, at present so disproportionate to the work as to move the heathen to derision, and Christendom to humiliation and mourning. Within our midst are millions of half-civilized Africans. Shall we pause till we decide whether jSTorthern or Southern Christians are most able or most bound to minister to their spiritual needs, and stand upon the order of our going to them, till a ground-swell of ignorance, sensuality, agrarian- ism, superstition and fanaticism shall wreck our entire Christian civilization ? Interest and duty combine to urge the sending of laborers to the children of Africa in this country. Duty, philanthropy, and in the case of many of us, solemn engage- ment, concur to demand the support and re- enforcement of David and others on the continent of Africa for the preaching of the gospel to a people that, notwithstanding their deep degradation, receive it with more readiness than any other people under heaven. The laborers are very few who are prepared to meet the hordes of Catholics that are coming to this country, and in yearly increasing numbers to this State. Patriotism appeals to us here again. But when we look towards Italy, how many considerations impel us to heed its cry for the pure gospel. More than half of the law that con- trols us, the history that guides us, the literature that is our delight and our unapproached model, is derived from that classic land. And the Italians of to-day are in their possibil- 346 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. itios greater than the Romans when they marched to the con- quest of the world. Tlie Italians, ■with their infusion of Gothic blood, are in endowments ^vhat the Greeks were in the })ast. They are a ])e()]ile beyond all others beautifvil in person and versatile in genius ; a people beggared by the most splendid church establishment of the world ; a i)eople many of whom are maddened into assassination and brigandage by the most grinding of despotisms; a peojile whose proverbial fraud and dissimulation are not excused certainly, but greatly palliated, by a telegraphic espionage, whose wires all converge in the Vatican, and by the auscultation of the secret throbbings of their hearts in the confessional. Among this people of noblest gifts and possibilities is the centre of the great ramifying can- cer on the body of Christianity. How few are engaged in its extirpation ! Here is the finest strategic point of so-called Chi'istendom, the citadel of the Papacy. AVith what interest do we watch the little forlorn hope as with sublime daring they thunder their defiance at its gates! Ah, let us cultivate this interest. Few of us, my brethren, are susceptible of being greatly stirred by a direct contemplation of the vastly extended harvest field. We are more likely to catch the contagion of zeal from sympathy with those loftier spirits that see, and those deeper and tenderer natures that feel, the necessities of man. Most of us who have heard that exquisitely graceful tribute to Dr. Tupper's recent articles on missions, but not more graceful than just, have felt first a greater sympathy with the workers, and then a deejjcr interest in the work. I confess, my interest in the Chinese has been greatly increased since a former pupil of mine, the heroic, the enthusiastic Lottie !Moon, has consecrated her pre-eminent aptitude for the lan- guages to the blessed office of announcing to the sorrowing Mar}s and Marthas of China, the Master who is come and calleth for them. And my high and warm personal regard SERMON BEFORE THE GENERAL ASSOCIATION. 347 for that noble type of the Christian man, Geo. B. Taylor, -who has left his Virginia brethren scarcely his equal in talents and acquirements, in the vigor, the accuracy and the facility of his pen, in the earnestness of his piety, and the depth of his devotion to friends, gives me higher concern for that grand object which appears above every other to concern him. We love heaven itself better, because friends and kindred are triumphant there. Shall we not love the mission fields more because there our friends are earning their croAvus ? And shall we not, must we not, if we are real Christians, rise up to sympathy with Christ who tasted death for every man, and descend with Him to sympathy for every son of Adam for whom He died ? III. Whence must come the supply of the fearful destitu- tion of laborers in the world-wide harvest field ? It is eas-y to delude ourselves into reliance on the great economic principle of the spontaneous tendency to the equation of supply and demand. The dominion of this principle is limited to the spheres of imperious material needs, or active natural and cultured desires. But even in these spheres, the political economist will tell us that not simple desire, but ability to pay for its object, constitutes real and effective demand. Where scarcity of bread prevails, and money (or its equivalent) is at command, price ascends and waves its invitation to a wider circle of supply ; where famine rages, the effective demand still existing, price mounts by long and rapid strides to the mast-head, and unfurls the flag of distress to a still more distant horizon. Supply moves to the scene of remote anxietv or urgent suffering in gentler undulations, or in higher climbing billows, according to the violence of the disturbing causes, and then ebbs away after more than meeting the demand. Ah, me ! little or nothing of this takes place in regard to man's great intellectual and spiritual wants. Call man, if you 348 LIFE OF A. B. BilOWN, DD. LLD. pleiOse, an iuciiiisitivc being. In his deepest ignorance his quest of knowleilge is capricious, irregular, almost profitless. The ignorant masses Avill not be enlightened till truth is gently urged upon their feeble and blinking vision, by a benevolence which is above them, and which graciously con- descends to them. Man, if you please, is a religious animal. But he is a sinful being, and will not come to the light where it shines upon him, lest his deeds should be reproved. In the case of the heathen, it must be manifested to them -who seek it not. Many of the heathen Indians on our Western frontier, and all the ruling elements in Japan, seek after our secular knowledge. They nauseate our religion, its true support. Some iulluences auxiliary to direct effort for the diffusion of knowledge and home evangelization. A man cannot be a Christian at all without exerting some unconscious, uninten- tional Christian influence on the unconverted around him. Christians of a low type of Christianity, and even infidels, will somewhat help to sustain the preaching of the gospel in their own country, because they believe it will conduce to their own prosperity in advancing the general good, because their persons and property will be safer, and their taxation for the repression of crime and the relief of beggary will be lightened. But these aids will not help in foreign evangelization. Foreign missions, in their success, do powerfully and favorably react on the material prosperity of Christian nations. But the planter, the manufacturer and the merchant, will not invest with reference to gains apparently so remote. Their plan, whatever ours may be, is emphatically the "now" plan. The chief reliance everywhere, the sole reliance for most of the field, is the highest and purest Christian benevolence, kindled first from heaven, and reinforced continually in answer to earnest prayer. The salvation of the world comes not from the universal spread of primary education. I hail SERMON BEFORE THE GENERAL ASSOCIATION. 349 with delight the increase of secular knowledge. It is a possi- bility, yet a perilous possibility of good. It is a great instru- ment which we must hasten to utilize for good, and to save from perversion. General education is no substitute for the gospel. If we would preserve the healthy balance of all the powers of a people, the more education we have, the more and not the less we need the earnest, effective and deeply spiritual Sabbath-school, pulpit and press. Shall we look to the higher education? It is invaluable for the full exposition of divine truth, and for the thorough intelligence of that exposition. But the higher education more needs Christianity than Chris- tianity needs it. The ancient classical languages with all their freightage of history, philosophy and poetry, constituting them the noblest instruments of culture, and the great bulwark of consecration, would, probably, be abandoned to utter neglect but for the interest which the higher Christian thinkers take in them. The relation of Christianity to our higher culture is even still more direct. The main current of modern scepticism is materialistic to the denial of the immortality of the soul. Let it gain ascendency in the higher departments of educa- tion, and the human mind, and its sublime philosophy, become a matter of anatomy and chemistry. The soul will grow to be too mean a thing for severe and serious discipline ; and science, for a while, patronized as an engineer for the con- struction of roads and machines, will finally die of starvation in the house of its false friends. The higher education, then, far from dispensing with Christian laborers, is one of the many applicants for their increase in number and effectiveness. Theological schools will do much to supply the demand for laborers. But they need the highest order of God-given material on which to operate. Then, brethren, we are shut up to prayer as our only recourse. The most candid of the rejecters of revelation tell us, on purely rational grounds, that 350 LIFE OF A. B. BROWN, DD. LLD. prayer is the irrepressible instinct, the inevitable necessity of a soul, awake to a great need, and alive to the existence of an infinitely wise and loving personal God. "VVe have reached a point where ])hil()sophy recognizes the necessity, and revela- tion imposes the duty of prayer. Andrew Fuller used to say — perhaps, -with an excess of self-depreciation — that he had little religion or devoutness that was not extorted by distress. Doubtless, he had more of them in that state. Thank God, that Andrew Fuller and C'arcy and their brethren, became sorely distressed about India, and cried to the Lord in its behalf. Great blessings seem to have been bestowed in answer to those prayers. Why should we doubt that He will answer prayer ? • To say that He will not be affected by any- thing we do, is to say that He will neither reward nor punish human conduct. If it must be admitted that He regards anything of our state, what will He be so likely to regard as the heart's desire of His children ? Surely, every right prayer is the reflection of the S})irit from the human soul. Nature mirrors back on God His image ; devout S2:)irits echo back His voice. But they have never sent back the full response. It is just here that advocates of the simple passivity of the human soul under divine influence err in theory, and all the Christian world has erred in practice. Christian hearts have not fully answered the divine touch, else the God who has promised to hear prayer would long since have sent forth the needed supply. He has foreknown from eternity our prayers, and has made arrangements, and pledge to answer every right and enjoyed prayer, without the slightest swerving of the laws, either of spirit or of matter. I conclude with two assumptions implied in our prayer : 1st. The Lord's harvest is our field, else to ask for laborers Avould be an impertinence. The field is doubly ours. All hnmnn beiufrs are our brethren. The unity of the human race SERMON BEFORE THE GENERAL ASSOCIATION. 351 wliich is abundantly established by sober and impartial science, is not, indeed, the foundation, but the necessary con- dition of the whole remedial scheme. Then the work has been committed to us. Faith is to come by hearing the word of God from the lips of men. 2d. We undertake to act in the line of our petitions. Prayer is desire intensified by its entertainment and expres- sion. To pray, and not to act in the direction of our prayers, would be, if it were not an impossibility, an absurdity and inconsistency. If we pray we must act in response to our prayers. Infidelity will scoffingly say, that this will be the only answer they will receive, just as it mocks at trusting in God on the day of battle, and believes only in keeping the powder dry ; we have a totally different conviction. God moves ; prayer intensifies and insures action. Pray, believing that prayer acts on God, as well as reacts on yourselves. When there shall be much of this kind of prayer, the king- dom of God shall come — " His v^'ill be done on earth as in heaven." THE END. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. Form L9 — 15ni-10,'48 (B1039) 444 AT LOS ANGELES l Hatcher- t95 Sketch of the ajl2 life and writings of •B. Brovm» BX 6495 B81rI2 AA 000 780 275 4