^w?5Ui)n li«^ ! ' ■ ; ■ :i ■i' ■ll] liii 1 i if % r' 111 } ill vm ' ':' i, PRINCETON, N. J. WicMn^e^//y (mT- ^'n^(ifU- U. /hvn.ltirjjh Shelf... Division Serticn .... >kj^ Numlnr ^^- p X J»^. <^ k^Z^T-aeA^ Jf- ,','-J'o'5/( ^:>t_ ^'(S^ % lilOTorial i)olttuu. THIRTY-FOUR SERMONS: RT. REV. JOMTHAN MAYHEW WAmWRIGHT, D.D., D.C.L., PROVISIONAL BISHOP OF THE DIOCESE OF NEW YORK. EDITED Bl^ HIS WIDOW NEW yOEK: D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 346 & 348 BROADWAY. LONDON: 16 LITTLE BRITAIN. 1856. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by D. APPLETON & CO., in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. THIS "MEMORIAL VOLUME" IS ^Ebicateb to PETER WAINWRIGHT, ONLY BROTHER OF THE AUTHOR OF THE SERMONS. THE TWO WERE UNITED, THROUGH LIFE, IN THE CLOSEST BONDS OF SYMPATHY AND AFFECTION ; AND TO THE LAST, ON EARTH, A brother's LOVE ADMINISTERED TO THE WANTS OF THE DYING SAINT. A. M. W. CONTENTS. PAGE Preface, 5 Address at the Funeral of Bishop Waiitvvright, . 13 A Sketch, in outline, of the late Bishop Wainwright, 23 SEKMONS. The Position and Prospects of the Church of England, 93 Psalm xlviii. 12, 13. — Walk about Zion, and go round about her ; tell the towers thereof. Mark ye well her bulwarks, consider her palaces ; that ye may tell it to the generation following. A Plea FOR Missions, 114 EccLEsiASTES xi. 1, 2. — Cast thy bread upon the waters : for thou shalt find it after many days. Give a portion to seven, and also to eight ; for thou knowest not what evil shall be upon the earth. Inequalities in Wealth the Ordinance of God, . . 147 Deuteronomy xv. 11. — The poor shall never cease out of the land. The Confessing or Denying of Christ, . . . 197 Matthew x. 32, 33. — Whosoever therefore shall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven. But whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven. The Harmony and Efficiency of the Gospel Scheme op Salvation, 211 1 John ii. 1, 2. — My little children, these things write I ur.to you, that ye sin not. And if any man sin, Ave have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous : and he is the propitiation for our sins : and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world. VI. COJSTENTS. PAOB The Love of God in the Incarnation of Christ, . 222 1 John iv. 9. — In this was manifested the love of God towards us, because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him. The Duty and Advantages of Prayer, .... 234 Job xxi. 15. — ^\^lat profit should we have if we pray unto him ? The Supper of the Lord our most precious Privilege, 246 1 Corinthians xi. 26.— For as often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord's death till he come. The Laborers in the Vineyard, 256 Matthew xx. 16. — So the last shall be first, and the first last : for many be called, but few chosen. The Nature and Reasonableness of Self-Denial, . 268 Ldke ix. 23. — And he said to them all, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me. The Witness of the Spirit in the Soul of Man, . .280 1 John v. 10. — He that believeth on the Son of God hath the wit- ness in himself. OuB Share in the Sins of Others, . . . . 290 1 Timothy v. 22. — Neither be partaker of other men's sins. Heinousness of Sins of Omission, 302 Matthew xxv. 1-4. — Then shall the kingdom of heaven be hkened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom. And five of them were wise, and five were foolish. They that were foolish took tlieir lamps, and took no oil with them. But the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. The Giving of our Hearts to God, . . . . 315 Proverbs xxiii. 26. — My son, give me thine heart. The Ordinary Means of Grace All-Sufficient, . .328 Luke xvi. 31. — If they hear not Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rose from the dead. The Power of Christ's Resurrection, . . . 343 Philippians iii. 10. — That I may know him and the power of his resurrection. CONTENTS. vdi. PASS The Folly akd Dangers of Delay, . . . .354 EccLESiASTEs xi. 4. — He that observeth the wind shall not sow, and he that regardeth the clouds shall not reap. Purity op Heart, its Attainment and Reward, . 364 Matthew v. 8. — Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. The Nature and Essentials of Spiritual Worship, . 37V John iv. 24. — God is a Spirit : and they that worship him, must worship him in spirit and in truth. Our Accountability for our Thoughts, . . . 390 Acts viii. 21, 22. — Thy heart is not right in the sight of God. Repent, therefore, of this thy wickedness ; and pray God, if perhaps the thought of thine heart may be forgiven thee. The Fruits of the Lord's Chastening, .... 402 Hebrews xiL 11. — Now, no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous ; nevertheless, afterward it yieldeth the peace- able fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby. The Blessed Saviour's Invitation to all, . . . 414 John vi. 68. — Lord, to whom shall we go ? thou hast the words of eternal life. The Death of the Righteous, 424 NmiBERs xxiii. 10. — Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his. The Intluence of Divine Grace, .... 436 John vi. 44. — No man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me draw him. The Christian's Dependence upon God, .... 446 Ephesians vi. 10. — My brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. The Necessity of Christ's Death, . . . . 457 Luke xxiv. 26. — Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory ? Neither Riches nor Poverty Desirable, . . .472 Proverbs xxx. 8, 9. — Give me neither poverty nor riches ; feed me with food convenient for me ; lest I be full and deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord ? or lest I be poor, and steal, and take the name of my God in vain. VUl. CONTENTS. FAOB Obedience the Test of Christian Knowledge, . . 483 1 John ii. 3. — And hereby do we know that we know him, if we keep his commandments. The Holy Spirit grieved ox account of our Sins, . 495 Ephesians iv. 30. — And gi-ieve not the Holy Spirit of God, where- by ye are sealed unto the day of redemption. The Danger and Guilt of the Love of Riches, . 504 PRO^^:RBS xxviiL 20. — He that maketh haste to be rich shall not be innocent. Christian Nurture of Children, 519 2 Timothy iii. 14, 15. — But continue thou in the things which thou hast learned and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned them ; and that from a child thou hast known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus. ' God's Favors bestowed according to our Faith, . 532 Mark vi. 5, 6. — And he could there do no mighty work, save that he laid his hands upon a few sick folk, and healed them. And he marvelled because of their unbelief Our Responsibility for our Faith, .... 544 Romans x. 10. — With the heart man believeth unto righteousness. Preparation for Death and Judgment, . . . 553 Amos iv. 12. — Prepars to meet thy God. PREFACE. The Sermons of Bishop Wainwriglit contained in tlie present volume (witli two exceptions * ) have been taken from the large number of manuscripts, which were left by the lamented author at his death, to all appearance just as they had been rapidly penned by him for the immediate service of the i3ulpit in the regular discharge of his duties, from week to week. Under the constant pressure of parochial work and care, — always interested and engaged in the general service and business of the Church, — never permitting himself to be absent from his place, when he could possibly attend at the meeting of any Society, Board of Trustees, or Committee of which he was a member, * These are the Sei-mons on page 114 and on page 147, wliich were printed under the author's supervision ; one in the year 1 828, the other in 1835. PEEFACE. Dr. Wainwriglit could iu general devote but little time to tlie preparation of the sermon written in tlie closet. The true expression, the completeness, and the finish of the composition, he very often — perhaps commonly — left for the sermon to be preached from the pulpit. These manuscripts then, especially with their further privation of the graceful, impressive manner, and the commanding presence of the living speaker, could not be expected faithfully to portray what he truly was, — one of the most distinguished preachers in the Amer- ican Church. Therefore in presenting to the Church this me- morial, they who have it in charge feel deeply the difficulty and delicacy of what they are doing, and the responsibility for it, to which they will be held. They do not know that the Bishop, could he have been consulted, would have given his consent to the publication of any one of these discourses ; and they do know that if consenting, he never would have suf- fered them to go to the press, without the most full and severe revision. Alas ! his instructions and aid we could not have • and it became the task of friend- ship and affection to answer, as in the circumstances it might best be answered, the demand not to be disre- garded, of the many who had known and loved him during his life, for some such memento as this volume is designed to give. A few manuscripts have been PKEFACE. Y selected, of sermons written at different periods of his ministry, and have been prepared for the press, not of course as he would have selected and prepared them, for that could not be done by another — but as care- fully as possible, — and they are now published, not with the expectation of representing to strangers the learned divine, or the eloquent pulpit orator, — nor of illustrating his plans and habits of doctrinal and prac- tical teaching, and his fidelity in following the Church, from year to year, in her annual round of services ; thus preaching the Gospel in its fulness, rightly di- viding the Word of Truth, " and giving to every man his portion of meat in due season ; " but as a remem- brancer to his friends, — to those who have known him long and well, — ^in whose hearts the slightest touch of the chord of association and sympathy, cannot fail to awaken clear and beautiful memories of the man, the Christian, the friend, the pastor, — gentle and honorable and faithful in his life, and sublime in his martyr-like death. As a preacher. Bishop Wainwright was distin- guished for elegance, and grace of style and manner ; but he was even more distinguished for simplicity and directness of thought and speech. He affected none of the obscurity which some call " dc])tli " / nor did he lose himself and his hearers in boundless abstractions, and consider it ''^ hreadth'''^ of thought. With true g PREFACE. humility, sometimes, perhaps, running mto excess, as any ruling principle or feeling is apt to do, he studious- ly avoided subjects which he deemed too high, either for the grasp of his own mind, or for the direct prac- tical instruction of the humblest portion of his flock. This is illustrated by an anecdote which his friends have heard him relate of himself in connection with the late Daniel Webster : " During my residence in Boston," said Dr. Wain- wrifrht, " Mr. Webster, several times in the course of our frequent conversations, suggested subjects which he wished to hear treated from the pulpit, and I have taken advantage of the suggestion. On one occasion he said to me with more than common earnestness, ' There is one text which I have often thou^'ht of as opening a grand subject, and I should like to hear it treated.' ' What is that, Mr. Webster ? ' Turning to me with his eye kindling under his overhanging brow, and speaking slowly in his deep tremulous tone, he said, ' There is one lawgiver.^ I replied : ' It is a noble subject, and I will write upon it for next Sunday.' ' You cannot.' ' Why ? it is but Wednesday, and I shall have ample time.' ' You cannot ; that sermon will cost you the best fortnight's labor you ever under- took.' I thought, nevertheless, that I could accomplish the design ; and upon returning to my study, I under- took it, dwelling upon it and making notes. But the PEEFACE. 1) more I meditated, tlie larger grew the subject, and I put myself seriously to tlie task for the remainder of the week. Saturday came, and the mighty idea had stretched beyond my narrow grasjD ; and I gave the subject up for the time, saying to myself, Hooker has bent that bow, and Webster could, were he to try, but I cannot." Now his very appreciation of the greatness of the theme, here unconsciously shown, is an evidence that in his humility he underrated his power to grasp it. Many an inferior man would, without hesitation, have essayed the bow of Ulysses, and to his life's end would probably have told the story of his success in bending it. The real difficulty presented to Dr. Wainwright, no doubt, was that of adapting the treatment of such a theme to his habitual manner of seeking, in every thing he uttered from the j)u]pit, — ^the instruction and the edification of the plainest among the j^eoj^le. His tastes, formed and disciplined under a profound sense of the duties of his office, led him to a different class of subjects ; and when several years afterwards his friend, Washington Irving, suggested to him as a text the words, '"''My son^ give me tliy lieart^'^ which, al- though not really inferior in its demands upon intel- lectual resource and power, to the text proposed by Mr. Webster, was yet more within the range of his ordinary meditations. Without difficulty, and in a 10 PREFACE. very sliort time, tlie excellent sermon was prepared, wliicli is to be fomid on the 315tli page of this volume. It is believed that in whatever other aspect the sermons here printed may fail to portray the preacher, this feature of humility, of simplicity, and of practical directness, will be clearly seen. And it is also believed that this i^ the feature which the preacher himself would have chosen to be the chief and prominent one in any and every memorial of him upon earth. Surely it is " his witness in Heaven, and his record on High," that " ill simplicity and godly sincerity " he preached the Gospel of the common salvation. This " Memorial Volume " owes its title to a sugges- tion of an old and particular friend of Bishop Wain- wright, the venerable Bishop of Connecticut. The Memoir is from the pen of another old and tried friend, the Bishoj) of New Jersey. The Funeral Address, now published by special request, was preached by an associate and fellow- laborer, whose respect and affection for the Bishop were the growth of an almost daily intercourse of twenty years. The work of conducting the volume through the press, was committed to the Rev. Dr. J. A. Spencer, who, with filial reverence, has faithfully devoted his excellent taste and judgment to its accomplishment. PREFACE. 1 1 And the publication is hallowed to every true heart by the tender and ever-watchful care and oversight of one, whose all of life is bound up with the sacred memory of the departed. E. Y. H. New Yoek, Easter Fven^ 1856. ADDRESS DELIVERED AT THE FUNERAL OF IN TEINITT CHUECII, N. Y., ON THE 23d OF SEPTEMBEE, ISM, BY EDWARD Y. HIGBEE, D.D. A BURDEN is laid upon me tliis day heavier than I can bear. My own spirit is not yet schooled to the weight of this affliction. How can I then, my Brethren, speak as your teacher and your comforter ? Could personal grief and an- guish be suppressed — could I for the time forget' that my faithful affectionate friend, my associate and companion of many years lies there upon the bier ! — could the mind be arrested and occupied alone by the great public calamity which has befallen us — the hereavement of the Church in the death of the Bishoj) — still, so imexpected and so crushing has been the blow, that it must needs benumb and paralyze the suf- ferer. As one suddenly hurled from some high cliif into the sea, I only hear the confused mournful sounds of death amid the waves, save as those sounds are overborne by God's awful 14 ADDRESS. voice, saj'ing to all Iniman hearts and all human tongues, Be still! he still! Pardon me, then, Brethren, if my words are few, and oh, above all, pardon those few poor words when you find them all inadequate to the scene and the occasion. How utterly vain, this day, seem all human plans and hopes and expectations. Even in the best things, where the aim and the motive are true and wise, as when faithful men and charitable men conscientiously and earnestly devise good for humanity, for religion, and for the Church, how often does a higher power mysteriously interpose, confounding all their counsels, apparently bringing to nought all their pur- poses, and teaching them that God alone reigneth. Two short years ago, this Diocese of E"ew York, deeply afflicted for a long time in having been deprived of the ser- vices of her chief pastor and head, succeeded in electing one of her most eminent Presbyters to the office of Provisional Bishop. Sound in the faith of Christ, of godly conversation, true to the principles of the Church, of indefatigable, self- sacrificing habits of industry, of gentlest, most courteous manners, of the kindest, most conciliating, most charitable spirit, an accomplished scholar and gentleman, tried by the test of time, proved wortliy by the good report of those who had best known him from youth to age, Jonathajst Mayhew Wainwright was chosen to his office amid the congratula- tions of the Church at large, not only in the United States, but in England, and with the highest anticipations, on the part of the great body of the clergy and laity of this Diocese, of the prosperity and peace of the Church which, under the divine blessing, would be the result of their choice. His nearest friends, particularly, knew that these antici- pations were well founded. They believed in his disposition and his will to use his all of strength in the service of his high calling. They had observed what that strength was, ADDRESS. 15 physical as well as intellectual. Tliey knew liis remarkable powers of labor and of endurance. They liad long known his persevering parochial diligence. They had marked in him that constant devotion to a round of duties wiiich would be likely, even in early life, to break down the bodily if not the mental energies of an ordinary man. It is true, that the habit of his life was to seek instruction and refreshment in a varied and liberal range of study — that no department of letters, or of the arts, was without interest to him — that in the highest circles of learning, taste and re- finement, no one was more welcome than he, — and that strangers to him sometimes did not understand how entirely these studies, tastes and habits were made subservient to a single end, namely, his faitliful ministry of the Gospel. And it is also true, that he was known as a social man — cheerful, and genial, and joyous, in the midst of the friends who de- lighted to gather around him at his hospitable home and elsewhere. And this, too, led strangers often to mistake his character. For he did not " disfigure his face that he might ai^pear unto men to fast" He did not ostentatiously enu- merate and proclaim to every one he met the accomplished or anticipated varied and weary labors of the preceding or succeeding hours — his presence punctually, at the precise time, wherever his public duties called him — his habitual rising to his work before the dawn of day — his midnight vigils of business, of study, and of devotion — his intervening visits in sunshine and in storm, far and near, through the streets and lanes of the city, to the cellars and the garrets of poverty, misery, sickness and death. His nearest friends and associates, together with the objects of his care, alone knew these things. And well did they know the thorough- ness with which he made all the requirements of his sacred ofiice, from the least to the greatest, the business and the pleasure of his life. 16 ADDEESS. Again, his friends knew liow in him the character of tlie true Christian and that of the true patriot seemed to be united and blended into one. Thej knew his views of the rehation which tlie Church bears to the advancing prosperity of this new country, and of the duties of the Church arising out of that relation. He claimed and he sought for the Church the same pro- gress which distinguishes our land at large. He favored no empirical ideas of progress, such as would set aside or change established princij^les or divine institutions, but a progress which, keeping ever in view the spirit, the temper, the dis- position of the time, the place and the people, would adapt its admimstration of spiritual truth to the present reality and rational prospect of things, at the same time preserving in- violate its allegiance to the unchangeable laws and ordi- nances of our God and Saviour — a progress which would ever place Christianity in the van of civilization — which would make answer to the resounding axe of the hardy pioneer with the voice of the morning and the even song of prayer and praise and thanksgiving to " the Lord our strength and our Redeemer" — a progress which, when the rich men of the world are changing the prairies and the forests into great cities, would overshadow those cities with the benign spirit of the everlasting Gospel, and plant therein, in every square and street, schools, and hospitals, and temples of the living God — a progress which cries to any Church found lagging behind the mighty march of her enterprise, " Woe unto thee ! Tliy candlestick shall be removed out of its place ! " — and which to this land and nation is ever uttering the solemn ad- monition, "It is as a Christian country alone that thou art to fulfil thy high destiny, and to maintain thy place among the nations of the earth : it is through the Church of God in the midst of thee — it is through the truth and charity of the Gos- pel, implanted in the hearts and controlling the lives of thy ADDEESS. 17 children, that thou art to become ' the last and the noblest offspring of time.' " Again, above all, we believed Dr. Wainwright to be one who never, in theory or in practice, separated the doctrines and institutions of Christ from the charity of Christ. Natu- rally kind and benevolent, the excellent gifts of nature were elevated into Christian principles ; and he understood, and acted upon the understanding, that the doctrines, and ordi- nances, and discipline of the Gospel were given for good, and not for evil ; for peace, and not for strife ; for humility, and not for spiritual pride ; for edification, and not for de- struction ; to make man gentle, and forbearing, and merciful, and forgiving, to his fellow man ; to " set the desolate in families," and "• to satisfy the poor with bread ; " to raise up the fallen, and not to crush him into a lower depth ; to reform the erring, and not to become an instrument of ^persecution to him ; to restore the sinner to forgiveness and peace, and not to bind him hopelessly over unto death. He preached Christ, not as calling down fire from Heaven upon ofienders, whether in faith or practice, but as " all the da}^ long stretching forth his hands to a disobedient and gain- saying people." A steadfast defender of the institutions of the Church, he yet remembered that those institutions were given only for the good of humanity — that they were made for man and not man for them — and therefore he cherished and defended and applied them, never in a sectarian spirit, or in a sectarian manner, but in their divine and catholic meaning, as they were fitted to heal, to comfort, and to save. His disposition was to be no man's enemy on account of any difierence of opinion, or even of faith. He treated no man harshly, or bitterly, or vindictively, because he deemed him a bad Churchman, or even a bad Christian ; but patiently, consid- ^2 18 ADDRESS. erately, tenderly, that he might lead him to become a better Christian and a better man. We saw him in this light, and we believed that he was a true servant of Him who was manifested not for the despair but the hope, not for the death but for the life, of the world ; in humility, and fear, and love, — a representative of Him who " doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the children of men" — a true minister of "the faithful and compassionate High Priest who is touched with a feeling of our infirmities " ■ — a true Missionary of Him who came to " seek and to save that which was lost." We believed that the charity of Christ, the end and aim, the substance and reward of Christ's religion was in his heart, and that for the diffusion of that charity far and wide in the Church, he would " labor mito death." And has it not been so ? Have not these anticipations been fulfilled ? I need not attempt to portray him to you, my Brethren, in the glorious light of the two years of his Epis- cojDate. The record of what he has been, and of what he has done, of the meekness and humility with which he has borne his great office, of the full and free offering of himself, body, soul and spirit, upon the altar of its service, of labors unsur- passed since the days of the Apostles, is known to you all. And the fruits of what he has been and of what he has done, the fruits of truth and peace, will remain in the hearts of thousands of the old, the young, the rich, the poor, the cler- gymen and the laymen of this Diocese. And now look upon him where pale and silent he lies wrapped about "with grave-clothes." There is the result of his work to himself! He has labored unto death / No, no ! that is not the result to him. Tliis day a crown of life is given to the laborer unto death. " Tliey that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars, for ever and ever." ADDKESS. 19 One of tlie morning papers of this city, yesterday, in an- nouncing liis death used the following touching words — " Since the period of his election he has known but little rest. We have often seen him wrapped in an ample cloak, waiting in severe storms the arrival of conveyances to take him to and from the city. The clergy respected him, the laity sup- ported him, his friends honored and loved him." " Waiting, waiting, in severe storms." Aye, in every part of the Diocese has he been seen waiting in the summer's heat, and in the winter's cold ! 'No, not waiting, but every where on the great highways, and aside from the thorough- fares of travel, in lonely vales, and along bleak hills, braving the inclement seasons, and wet with the unhealthy dews of night, he has been seen pursuing his way, by any conveyance which might be presented to him, from one distant point to another to visit the populous town, or the humble country church, or the obscure school-house, hastening to bestow his blessing, whether on the " great congregation," or the " two or three gathered together " in God's Kame. No consideration of personal convenience or comfort, no mere weakness and languor and pain, no private interests or social invitations, no anxious remonstrances of his friends, and they have been many, were ever allowed to interfere W'itli his official duties, from the greatest to the least. My last Avords to him were an earnest entreaty that in case of his recovery he would abstain from what I considered an excess of labor and self-sacrifice. He replied that he had not been conscious of any excess, but that if it should please God to restore him to health he would try to follow the advice of his friends, and then his mind ran off upon what alone seemed to be of interest to him, his pastoral and Epis- copal plans and duties. Among the minor duties of his office, the last I believe performed by him, was his attendance at a meeting of the 20 ADDRESS. Executive Committee of " The General Sunday School Tlnion." His mortal sickness had even then seized upon him. But though in fever and in pain, he refused to leave his place though the session continued until midnight. On the following even- ing there was an adjourned meeting of the same Committee. His illness having increased, he was unable to leave his room. He therefore sent a request to the committee, as he wished to meet them, to come to his house. They did so, and there, almost in his chamber of death, lie gave Ms counsels to that most important institution of the Church. " Feed my lambs," therefore, may be considered as the last exhortation that we have heard from his dying lips. Alas ! our " master is taken from our head to-day." The Held misses the strong laborer. The shield of the warrior is pierced in the battle. Alas ! alas, my brethren ! but not for liim. His cares, his pains, his conflicts are over. The rough consuming toil, the weary way, the heat and the cold are past. The midnight watcher is relieved. The tempest no more beats upon his head, and the rude wind is still. The good soldier fell with his face to the foe, and with his armor on. The faithful laborer hath gone upward, not deserting the harvest, but bearing his sheaves with him. We, my brethren, are the desolate. His bereaved family are the desolate. Lord God of the widow and the fatherless, do thou comfort and sustain them ! "We his flock are the desolate. We are left to wonder, and mourn, and tremble under the chastisement of the Almighty. Brethren, I am not here to interpret for you this bereave- ment ; but perhaps you will permit me to say, that it surely reminds us of a truth which in our self-sufliciency and pride we too commonly forget,— namely, the sovereignty of God, the sovereignty of God alone. It warns us against any undue reliance upon an arm of flesh. " The Lord keepeth the city, or the watchman waketh but in vain." " The Lord ADDEESS. 21 sitteth above tlie water-floods, and is King for ever." So tliis day, afar off from the conncil-cliamLers, the conven- tions, and the homes of our wisdom, our wishes, and our aftections, doth he design and accomplish our healthful chas- tisement ; and so yonder, even under the apj)arently destruc- tive pressure of death, " doth he give his beloved sleep." He alone can make " all things work together for good to them that love him." Let us therefore resign ourselves, our wisdom and knowledge, our jDlans and prosj^ects, our hopes and fears, ourselves, our all, entirely and absolutely into his hands who fulfllleth his own gracious purposes concerning us in his own way, and in his own time. Again, we are surely taught to renew this day the exami- nation of ourselves, " and that not lightly and after the man- ner of dissemblers with God." To examine not our neighbo7'S, but ourselves^ — ourselves, every one himself^ and for himself, individually, and personally, looking to " the plague of his own heart, searching out the sin which God would rebuke and chastise, and in dust and ashes under the rod pleading for pardon, pleading for grace to correct and amend every sinful habit, every harsh and wrong disj^osition, every imagi- nation and thought and feeling which are not in harmony with the righteousness and truth of the Master whom we serve. And now, brethren, we are about to perform the last offices for our beloved friend and Bishop. With Avhat fitting memorial shall we honor his closing tomb ? Can we do better honor to his memory ? can we more really and truly promote our own well-being ? nay, can we more earnestly and fully express our faithfulness to his Lord and ours, than by resolving now that we will plant deej) upon his grave, with united fraternal hand, the heavenly virtues of charity, peace, and brotherly love ? that henceforth, day by day, and year by year, we will tend and cherish the trees of Divine 22 ADDEESS. promise tlience arising — fairest of all tilings that adorn the green eartli — until tliej shall " fill the land, and the hills be covered with the shadow thereof," their fruits increasing and maturing unto eternal life. And oh, if there be in any heart one germ of unfraternal feeling, root it out and destroy it this day. If there be among us any remaining incarnation of the demon of party strife, bury it in the profoundest darkness of death. Let it lie in the dust and ashes of a sepulchre, from whose doors neither man nor angel shall ever roll away the stone A SKETCH, IK OUTLIITE OF THE LATE, LOVED AND LAMENTED, BISHOP WAINWRIGHT. " I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan : very pleasant hast thou been unto me : thy love to me was wonderful." It is a pleasing fancy, wliicli the elder D'Israeli has pre- served, somewhere, in amber, that portrait-painting had its origin, in the inventive fondness of a girl, who traced, upon the wall, the profile of her sleeping lover. It was an outline, merely. But, love could always fill it up ; and make it live. It is the most, that I can hope to do, for my dear, dead, brother. But, how many there are — the world-wide circle of his friends, his admiring diocese, his attached clergy, the immediate inmates of his heart, the loved ones of his hearth — ■ from whose informing breath, it will take life, reality, and beauty. I never felt, so tenderly, the sacred trust of a surviving friendship, as when Mrs. Wainwright announced to me her 24 MEMOIE. purpose of piiblisliing a Memorial Volume of her liiTsband's sermons : and requested me to furnisli the preliminary sketch of my faithful friend, of five and tliirty years. In an instant, he was vividly before me : as I saw him, first ; and, as I saw him, last. As I saw Mm, first., in 1819, when he had just removed to New York, in the fresh bloom of tw^enty-seven ; alive to every tasteful theme, and every genial impulse : and, yet, sedate and thoughtful, in his youth. And, as I saio him, last, when, in the kindness of his heart, he had come, to be with me, at the consecration of Christ Chajjel, in Elizabeth : and, hastened, from me, when the service was completed, with his sunniest smile, to resume the work, which he had only in- termitted, for my sake ; and which, in little more than two months, brought him to a grave, to all, untimel}' but himself. Alas, how life divides itself; The left, and the departed : Like funeral files, in double rows ; The dead, the broken-hearted. JoNATUAN JVIayiiew WAiNWKiGnT was bom in Liverpool, England, on the 24th day of February, 1792. Peter Wain- wright, his father, was an English merchant, who had estab- lished himself, not long after the war of Independence, in the city of Boston. Here, he married Elizabeth, daughter of Jonathan Mayhew, D.D., a Congregational minister. Dr. Mayhew was a descendant of Sir Thomas Mayhew, one of the early settlers of the country, and the first Governor of Martha's Vineyard. He was a Unitarian, in doctrine ; and bitterly opposed to Episcopacy. He took an active part, against its introduction, into America ; and was engaged, in an extensive controversy, with Archbishop Seeker, the Rev. Dr. Thomas Bradbury Chandler, of New Jersey, and others. An anecdote, related by a venerable Presbyter, still spared to the Church, which he has served so long, illustrates well the MEMOIE. 25 relation, wliicli Dr. Mayhew held, toward the Church ; and sheds a half-prophetic ray, upon his grandson's course. The Rev. Dr. Eaton, now, more than forty years ago, was dining, with a friend, at Cambridge. In the room, was a portrait of Dr. Mayhew ; with an inverted mitre, in one corner. " What a pity," said the guest, '• that Dr. Mayhew should have felt such enmity, toward the Church, as to have a mitre, upside down, inserted, in his portrait ! " " Oh, well," said the lady of the house, " perhaps his grandson, Jonathan Wainwright, may turn it back, again." " And wear it, himself," said Dr. Eaton, happily. The grandson had then lately graduated, at Harvard University ; and had no thought of entering the ministry. Peter Wainwright had returned to England ; and was in business, in Liverjiool, when his three children were born. He was, himself, a decided Churchman. Mrs. Wainwright held the theological views of her father. She Avas a woman of marked intellectual ability, a fine j)oetic taste, and sin- gular powers of conversation. Jonathan was their eldest child. Eliza was married to Dr. Walter Channing, one of the most eminent physicians of Boston ; and is deceased. Peter survives, beloved and respected, by all who know him. The first school, to which Jonathan was sent, was taught by the daughters of the Pev. Mr. Lewin, a Dissenting Minister, in Liverpool. From them, he went to the school of the Pev. Mr. Hughes, a clergyman, at Puthven, in ISTorth Wales. To his instructions and example, he always ascribed his attachment to the Church. ]S"o doubt, much was also due, to the influence of his excellent God-mother, Mrs. Hartwell ; Avith whom, he often spent his holidays, at Holyhead. In 1803, Peter Wainwright returned to America, with his family. Jonathan, then eleven years old, was sent to the Academy, at Sandwich, on Cape Cod ; at first, under the 26 MEMOIR. tuition of the Eev. Mr. Burr : and, afterwards, of Mr. Elislia Clai^p ; under whose direction, he was prepared for College. A letter, written, while here, when but little more than twelve years old, illustrates well the saying, "that the child is father of the man." It is one, of only two, of his boyish letters, that have been preserved. It is addressed to his excel- lent God-mother, " Mrs. Hartwell, Holyhead, Anglesea, K. Wales, Great Britain," and dated " Sandwich," " August 1st 1804." A boy's chirography and a boy's orthography attest its genuineness. " Dear Friend, I presume the Corsican upstart has not yet performed his promise, in comeing, to j)ay you a Visit. I guess, he has got quite sick of the notion ; and I think, he did well, in not trying to come, and steal our Good Old Eng- lish Roast Beef ; for, if he does, he will be sure to have his head kicked, for a foot-ball, by the Brave English Yolunteers ; and our good old English Wooden Walls would send all his little dung-boats, to Davy's Locker, very soon. But, I think, there is not much danger of his comeing ; for. Queen Ann's pocket-piece scares him, so, accross the little ditch, that, I be- lieve, he has given over all the notion of it. His threats pass by us, like the idle M^ind, which we regard not ; but, on the other hand. Squire Dibden, with his keen little songs, gives the little gentleman such a shakeing, that I am affraid we shall loosen all his joints, if he has got any ; for he is nothing but skin and bone. He is not like our true English Tars ; he has no Eoast Beef and Plumbpudding, to make him fat ; he lives upon nothing ]5ut frogs and soup meagre, and a few mice, that he and his friend Talley catch, upon the broken walls of Aristocracy. But, I must conclude, as my pen is very bad. Give my love to Mrs. Jackson, Mr. Jack- son, Dr. Lloyd, John Gething, and all my friends there ; and tell J. G. that the boat he gave me exceeds all the other boats here, in sailing and handsomeness ; and that I shall not MEMOIE. 2*7 know how to repay his kindness, till summer. I remain your true British friend, Jonathan WAm^viiiGHT. P. S. Pray overlook my mistakes, this time, as I am in such a hurry." " Great Britain, for ever, For it makes little Bony quiver ; Huzza, huzza." " Britains strike home ; Huzza, huzza." Was there ever a more real boy's letter : the " very bad pen," and the "P. S.," to plead "such a hurry," included? And, yet, who that knew him well, does not see all the man, in it : his hearty Britishness ; his love of freedom and con- tempt for tyrants ; his genial good humor ; his native cour- tesy ; his grateful acknowledgment of any favor ; his joyous sense of every enjoyment, however small ; his exuberant good nature, so that " a dinner of herbs," with him, would have a relish, which many a sumptuous feast fails to imjDart ; his simple-hearted atfectionateness ? And, then, his appre- ciation of the power of music, in his allusion to " Squire Dibden : " a hajopy confirmation of the wisdom of the Board of Admiralty, in distributing " his keen little songs," among the sailors, as an incentive to patriotism. The other letter, of his childhood, written four years later, is a fit companion ; though it shows great progress, in every way : well written, well spelled ; and manly, far beyond six- teen. It is addressed, to his brother, Peter ; and is dated, " Sandwich, July 10th, 1808. " My dear brother, I am very glad, that you have begun to send me a few lines, and hope you will continue to do so. It will not only be very agreeable to me, but also useful to you ; as a facility in expressing one's self in literary cor- 28 MEMOIR. respondence is almost indispensably necessaiy to a mercliant, and a yeiy great and necessaiy accomplislmient to a gentle- man, who wishes to know more than how to hand a lady into a room. Politeness is, indeed, a very desirable accomiilish- ment ; I mean, that politeness which consists in making every body around you comfortable : not that flummery, that ex- crescence of gentility, that sure indication of an empty, brain- less, scull, which bows, and scrapes, and says a thousand pretty things ; but is destitute of all that elevates and dig- nifies human nature, of all that true politeness springing from a good and refined education, which softens the rough and honest coloring of nature. To make a bow, and hand a lady into the room, with propriety, is desirable, and I would have you cultivate it ; but, remember, that it will not go down, unless there be the addition of a stock of good sense, w^itli those whose good opinion is worth obtaining. You will also derive great benefit from cultivating chirography, which is an art in tJie highest degree elegant and useful. I feel very sorry that your taste had not led you to form some ac- quaintance with Latin and Greek. You would never have repented it. The French language is, still, in your way. Make yourself thoroughly acquainted with that. Be per- fectly acquainted with history and geography. I do not know, whether being 21 years older than you, may give me the title of lecturing you, in this manner. But, I think the title of a brother, anxious for your welfare, may. The reeds, you were so kind as to buy me, answered very well. I am much obliged to you, for your trouble. Have you cleaned the gun ? If not, I wish you would. Your affectionate brother, and true friend, J. Mayhew Waenweight. I expect another letter soon. Also, one from Ma." Here, we have, again, the man, anticipated, in the boy : MEMOIE. 29 the sterling good sense ; the habitual regard to the favor- able opinion of others ; the high standard of attainment and accomplishment ; the just estimate of education, and, espe- cially, in the classics ; the admirable definition and exposition of true j)oliteness, the instinctive practice of which made him, always, a perfect Christian gentleman. The grave eulogy on " chirography " calls to mind many a good-natured rap, on the knuckles, for my shocking bad hand. But, the charm of the letter is its fraternal, almost, paternal, aifection- ateness ; a charm, which beautified his life. I have seen the numerous letters of a life-long coi'respondence, with his brother, Peter : and I have never seen brotherhood, in more perfect beauty. How truly, in this case, the survivor dies. From the Academy, at Sandwich, young Wainwright went, in 1808, to Harvard University, at Cambridge ; where he graduated, in 1812. Of his College life, no details have been obtained. Il is believed, that, during his academic life, he indulged the love of Sacred Music, which was a passion, in him, by acting, gratuitously, as the organist of Christ Church ; at which, he worshii^ped. Soon after his graduation, he was appointed a Proctor of the University, and Instructor in Ehetoric. He held this office, for several years ; and dis- charged its duties, with entire acceptance. The combination which was, in him, of sterling sense, and exquisite taste, with a fine musical ear, made him eminent, through life, for his eftective delivery ; and, especially, for the manner, in which, he read the service of the Church. I never knew a better reader. How many hours have I listened to him, with de- light, in the early years of our acquaintance. Spenser, Mil- ton, Cowper, Akenside, Gray, came " mended, from his tongue." Not long after he had graduated, he entered the oflice of the late William Sullivan, Esq., of Boston, as a Student of Law. But, the study was not congenial to his taste ; and he abandoned it. Determining to devote his life 30 MEMOIE. to the work of the Sacred Ministry, he became a candidate for holy orders ; and pursued his theological studies, chiefly, under the care of the Rev. Dr. Gardiner, Rector of Trinity Church, Boston. In 1814, while thus occuj^ied, he was in- vited to St. Johns, IS'ew Brunswick, to take charge of the Academy ; and of the parish, when he should be ordained. He visited the place : but the arrangement failed ; and he returned to his office in the University. " You cannot think," he writes to Peter, " how glad I am, to get back." Indeed, in entertaining this proposition, at all, which must have been very distasteful to one, in whom, the social instincts were so strong, he was influenced, by the highest human motives, filial and fraternal affection. " The only thing, that could induce me to stay there," he writes to his brother, " would be, that it should afford a good situation for you, by and by ; and for Ma and Eliza." In the year 1816, he was ordered Deacon, in St. John's Church, Providence, Rhode Island, by Bishoj) Griswold. His first parish, to which he was called, while yet a Deacon, was Christ Church, Hartford, Connecticut. AVhile here, he was admitted to the Priesthood, by Bishoj) Hobart ; who, in a vacancy of the Diocese, had proyisional charge of it : and he was instituted Rector of the Parish, by the same Prelate, on the 29th day of May, 1818. It was his first love ; and he was entirely happy, in it. And the more, when the light of human endearment came in, upon his hearth, to brighten, and to sanctify, it. He was married, in August, 1818, to Amelia Maria, the daughter of Timothy Phelps, Esq., of New Haven. She survives him, with eight children. Six went before him, into rest. Tlie closest intimacy, from the fall of 1819, their house always open to me as a home, enables me to say, that a fonder or more faithful wife and mother, I have never known; nor a brighter and happier hearth, or better ordered Christian household. I have spent MEMOIE. 31 no hours more happily, beyond the circle of immediate love, than, by that pastoral hearth. Thongh but a short time Rector of Christ Church, he made his mark, there. He estab- lished the Sunday School. At first, it was in union with others. But, he soon withdrew. lie was constant in his per- sonal attendance ; and very happy in his instructions to the children. The first Missionary association in the parish was organized by him. And he travelled in Massachusetts, as an agent, to form auxiliary societies. So early was his devotion to Sunday Schools and to Missions. In the year 1819, the Rev. Thomas Church Brownell, one of the assistant Ministers of Trinity Church, in the city of New York, was chosen Bishop of the Diocese of Connecticut ; which, since the death of Bishop Jarvis, in 1813, had con- tinued vacant. To the vacancy, in Trinity Church, thus created, Mr. Wainwright was called, on the 25th day of No- vember, in that year. I have, before me, the letters of Bishop Hobart and Bishop Brownell, addressed, to him, on the subject of his removal, to New York : and they make out a case of clear and imperative duty. He yielded, to it ; and went, at once. I was a member of the parish, and a candi- date for holy orders ; and well do I remember the welcome, which he met, and the acceptance, which he secured. A kindredness of tastes and sentiments, combined with our en- gagement in the same sacred pursuit, drew us early together, in the closest and most congenial bonds : and, from that time, till the very moment of his death, our friendship ripened and grew mellow. His labors, in this parish were assiduous, and well directed ; and conciliated, for him, the highest respect and confidence : while his bland and winning manners, at- tractive to all, were especially influential with the young. During his connection, with this mother of our Churches, he declined an invitation to the Rectorship of Grace Church, in New York. But, when the call was repeated, he deemed 32 MEMOIE. it liis duty to accept it. This was in 1821. With all the considerations which bound hini to tlie position, which he held, so happily, it was natural, that he should yield to this renewed invitation, to a joarish, second to none, but that, with which he was connected, in imj)ortance, and influence for good. Ti'inity Church, with its chapels, was in the nature of a Colleo:iate Church. The Rector was the Pastor. The assistants, pastors, also ; but, of course, in a secondary and limited relation. They preached, in rotation, in the Church and Chapels : and discharged the sacred office, in its imj)ort- ant functions, towards the young, the children, the poor, and all the general interests and objects of Christianity, under the direction of the Kector. To a man of Mr. Wainwright's physical and intellectual energy, and of his enlightened and enlarged benevolence, there would be an inevitable feel- ing of restraint. He was, with all his gentleness and yield- ingness, a man of independent mind : and bold and resolute, in action, however mild and affable, in manner. He needed, to make full proof of his ministry, a separate j^arish. He had it, at Grace Church ; and he made it the scene of the most assiduous industry, and of the widest influence. He spent, here, thirteen years of the very vigor and lustihood of his life ; from twenty-nine to forty-two. They developed, in him, the fullest and best proportioned manhood. They demonstrated, what a city Pastor can do, who combines sound judgment, with earifestness and zeal. They made a mark, on the whole Church ; and they made him, in the eyes of the whole Church, a man of highest mark and likelihood. Yery few of our clergy have ever held a position so elevated, so widely regarded, so variously and deeply influential, as Dr. Wainwright, during his Rectorship of Grace Church. It was when he had been there, two years, that the Trustees of Union College conferred, on him, the honorary degree of Doctor in Divinity : as, was, subsequently, done, by his own MEMOIE. 33 Alma Mater, at Cambridge. Of Dr. Wainwriglit's labors, during this period of liis life, I cannot give report, so well, as in tlie language of one, who was his catechumen and parishioner ; and who is such a seal of his devoted ministry, as he may well rejoice in. I speak of the Eev. Dr. Haight ; who, every body knows, in wide and varied usefulness, as, in entire and unreserving self-devotion, has no superior, of his order, in the Church. " In addition to the ordinary public duties of the Sanctuary, which he discharged, with fidelity and with fervor, his pastoral course was marked by great attention to other duties ; which, at that period, were not universally observed, by that class of Divines, with which he was con- nected. We refer to the exposition of Holy Scripture, in lectures, especially during the season of Lent ; the religious instruction of the young ; and the cultivation of a missionary spirit, among the people, at large. In the first of these duties, he was pre-eminently successful. His primary series of lectures, which excited, at the time, great interest, was on the Gospel Karrative, harmonized. To prepare his peoj)le, for a more profitable attendance, on his exj^osition, he made out and j)rinted an outline of the subjects : and advised and encouraged them, to form the Harmony, for themselves ; tljat they might have the very passages before them, on which he lectured, for use, then, and, for reference, afterwards, in their private study, at home. This was done by many of his parishioners ; and added much to the interest and value of his instructions. He was remarkably happy, in his lectures : which, though carefully prej^ared, were not written ; and never failed to secure the attention of his auditors. This practice, he continued, to the close of his life, even after his elevation to the Episcopate. The last course, which he de- livered, was during the Lent season, following his consecra- tion, in St. John's Chaj)el, ]!^ew York. He was attentive to the duty of catechising the lambs of his flock : and always 34: MEMOIE. took a deep interest in tlie Sunday School. Several of our clergy, wlio are now occupying prominent positions in the Church, were engaged with him, as catechists, at this j)eriod." " In the fuliilment of this part of his pastoral trust, he pre- pared and preached a course of sermons, on Christian Educa- tion ; which were so well received by his congregation, that they were published, by request. They were earnest, able, discourses ; and well calculated to produce a deep impres- sion, on his auditors. The same feeling, which led him, to be thus careful of the interests of the young, more immedi- ately under his pastoral care, impelled him likewise to seek the welfare of the children of the poor, in his neighborhood. Accordingly, the charity-school of Grace Church was estab- lished; and continued, in successful operation, under his auspices." " We referred also to his agency, in the work of Missions. At the period, of which we are now speaking, our Church had not manifested any special interest, in the exten- sion of the blessings of the Gosj^el, beyond the bounds of her organized dioceses ; whether, at home, or abroad. Missions, in the broad, full, sense of the term, was comparatively a strange topic ; and, on some accounts, and, in certain quarters, not a popular one. " The subject, however, had taken hold of the mind and the heart of the Kector of Grace Church ; and, when called upon, to preach, before the Directors of the Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society — then, a feeble association, with hiit four missionaries, in the whole field, and a revenue of only two thousand dollars — he pronounced a discourse, which electri- fied the Church ; and aided very largely in awakening, in the minds of Churchmen, that higher sense of their responsi- bilities and duties, which, we trust, has been gaining strength, as years have rolled on." " This eloquent sermon was preached, on Tuesday, May 13, 1828, in St. James' Church, Philadelphia." "Three months after the preaching of this MEMOIE. 35 Missionary Sermon, anotlier, of like character, was preached, by him, in Christ Church, Hartford, on the occasion of form- ing the African Mission School Society, August 18, 1828 ; which was also published, at the request of the Directors," " In instructing his parishioners, in their duty, in this great work of spreading abroad the comfortable Gospel of Christ, and in animating them to its performance, he made use, not only of the teaching of the pulpit ; but of other modes of ac- cess, to their understandings, and their hearts. Among these, was that of missionary meetings for addresses, and other exercises ; which, at that time, in New York, were accounted novelties, which were not to be received, without very close scrutiny. In these pastoral labors, in which, to use his own language, ' he found his highest and best plea- sures,' among 'a people, with whom, his intercourse was every way delightful; and who received his ministrations with an uniform and aifectionate attention, which it was his daily and most ardent prayer justly to deserve ; ' he passed thirteen years of the prime and vigor of his life." A frequent and familiar inmate of his house, during the whole of this period, I venture to express the belief, that there never was a hapj)ier pastoral connection. He had collected an exten- sive library, admirably chosen. He found, or made, the leisure, amid his numerous and arduous duties, to be much among his books. He cultivated, most ardently, his love for Sacred Music, which was carried to great perfection by his choir : and made it tell, most beneficially, throughout the land, in increased attention, to the subject, in his " Music of the Church." His hearth was the centre of the most refined and generous hospitality. And, strangers, of every clime, w^ere attracted, about him, by his cultivated tastes, his wide and varied information, his elegant manners, and his kind and sympathizing heart. With all this, he was, "in sim- plicity, a child." A brief run into the country, a visit from 36 MEMOIE. an old friend, a social supper on some cold meat and a potato, would overflow liim, with delight. Two passages of his life, during this happy pastorship, were aside from the even tenor of his way ; and out of sym- pathy with his j^eace-loving nature. They were controversial, in their character. And they involved a serious difference, with his Bishop. There are few, living, to whom they would, now, recall themselves. Yet, they claim a place, even in this sketch, in outline. His most loving friends need not regret the record. The magnanimity of his concession was more than overpayment of his error. I relate them, in the lan- guage of him, to whom I have already expressed my obli- gation. "There are two subjects," "in connection with Dr. Wainwright's first residence in New York, which deserve a passing notice. His churchmanship was put to the test — and a rather severe one — ^by the action of his Diocesan, the Et. Kev. Bishop Hobart, in publicly expressing, in a pastoral letter, his disapj^robation of the Clerical Association, of the City of New York, which Dr. Wainwright had joined. On the appearance of the Pastoral, Dr. Wainwright, at once, withdrew, from the Association ; giving his reasons, for his action, in a letter to that body. ' The good, anticipated from our Association, is not, in my estimation, so large, in amount, as to make adherence to it a matter of conscience : while the evils of pursuing a measure, in op230sition to the j)romulgated sentiments of the Bishop, and, thus, run the hazard of making it a point of party distinction, are so great, that the duties of Christian humility and forbearance enjoin me to desist.' In the close of his letter, he speaks of his withdrawal, as a painful act ; 'a sacrifice, required by a solemn sense of duty.' It may be well, here, to add, that the course, taken, on this occasion, by the lion-hearted Bishop of New York, received the warm, and almost, unanimous approbation of the Clergy and Laity ; as a wise measure, looking to the future welfare MEMOIE. SY of the Diocese and the Church, Tlie other point, to which we alluded, was the connection of Dr. Wainwright, with the New York University. At its inception, he took a decided part, in favor of the new institution : believing, that it could be made — in accordance with the professions of its founders — • a University, properly so called. Bishop Hobart, w^ith that sagacity and knowledge of men and things, by which he was so eminently characterised, foresaw, that it would not. Dr. "Wainwright, however, under the influence of a naturally sanguine temperament, hoped better things. But, as soon as he saw, that it would only be a rival institution to Columbia College, under a different preponderating religious influence, he withdrew, from his connection, witli it. On his elevation to the Episcopate, he w^as re-elected a Trustee of Columbia College — which office he had resigned, at the period, of which we are now speaking — and zealously devoted himself, so far as he was able, to a vigorous support of its position and influ- ence." In both these cases, there w^as the same ardent desire to do the highest, and the most extensive, good ; the same childlike simplicity of confidence, in the sincerity of others ; the same prompt and generous sacrifice of private judgment, to the claims of duty ; the same nobility of nature, in ac- knowledging and retrieving an error. He was a man, whose " failings leaned, to virtue's side." At the end of those thirteen, years of happiness and use- fulness, in the Rectory of Grace Church — alas, no longer of the things, that are ! — a change passed over his life. The ancient parish of Trinity Church, in Boston, had been more than a year, without a Kector ; and was suffering greatly, from the vacancy. The venerable Bishop of the Eastern Diocese was advanced in years, with gathering infirmities ; there were divisions, in sentiment and action, among those of the same household ; and there was a general state of unsatisfactoriness, in the Church, in Massachusetts. Under 38 MEMOIR. these circumstances, liis prominence in the Church, his emi- nent success, as a preacher and as a j^astor, and his well- deserved reputation as a man of peace, averse to all extremes ; and the consideration, peculiarly attractive to Boston people, that he had been a Boston man, directed attention, strongly, to Dr. AVainwright. The urgent call of the Yestry of Trinity Church was seconded and enforced, by several represen- tations, from Clergymen and Laymen, of the highest con- sideration, in the Church. It seemed to be a call of duty. It was, certainly, a sacrifice. He went. He was welcomed back, to the haunts of his youth, with the utmost cordiality. His old friends rallied, about him. New friends were ga- thered, to them. The parish was encouraged, and reinforced. A better organ was needed : and he was sent to England, to procure its construction ; with a most liberal provision, for his personal expenses, abroad. It was the land of his birth. It was the land of his heart. Scarcely any one ever went abroad, with a better j^reparation, for the highest enjoyment. Scarcely any one ever more completely realized his most sanguine exj)ectations. His letters, to his beloved wife, run over, with delight. He went, from England, into France, Switzerland and Germany ; and returned to Boston, after an absence of eight months. The acquaintances which he formed in England were numerous and valuable. Many of them continued their correspondence with him, till his death. A most interesting result, of his visit to Europe, was the inti- mate acquaintance, under circumstances of peculiar con- fidence and tenderness, with the venerable Dean Pearson, the biographer of Claudius Buchanan and of Schwartz, and the friend of Middleton, and Ileber, and of all good men. The numerous letters, from this interesting family, show, how completely their American friend was domiciliated, in their hearts. A recent letter, from his son, the He v. Hugh Pear- son, Yicar of Sonning, affords a touching j)roof of their aflec- MEMOIR. 39 tionate respect. It is addressed to Mrs. "Wainwriglit. " It was a great gratification to me, that yon slionld wish to have a memorial of Sonniiig, to connect with the memory of the dear Bishop. In the repairs of my Chnrch, wliich were going on, when he was last, in England, tlie ivy was removed, from the tower. Bnt, we had carefully taken up some roots, from the churchyard wall, which closely adjoins the tower ; and packed them in moss. So that I think, they will survive the voyage. I hope you will receive the little-box safely." How beautiful an emblem of the love of Christian hearts, the clinging, climbing ivy ; for ever upward, and for ever green. Dr. Wainwright did not remain long in Boston, after his return, from Europe. His parochial and social relations were, indeed, all that could be desired. But, the chief ground of his removal, there — and so it was distinctly understood, by the Yestry of Grace Church ; whose deportment, in a transac- tion, which cost them such a Pastor, and such a friend, was most generous and graceful — was the promotion of the gen- eral welfare of the Church. This was more easy to be de- sired, than done. His presence was less influential, than had been hoj^ed, in reconciling discordant interests, in the Dio- cese. And, worst of all, he found himself forced into a posi- tion of partisanship, which it had been the yearning of his heart, and labor of his life, always to avoid. After his re- moval to Boston, some changes had been introduced into the parochial arrangements of Trinity Church, New York; by which a more positive position and definite responsibility were secured, to the assistant ministers, and a pastoral care, in one or other of the Chapels, assigned to each of them. The yearning for him, which was still alive and active, in his old parishioners and friends, led to his being invited, as an assistant minister of Trinity Church ; a little more than two years, after he had gone to Boston. He declined the invita- tion. But, when, a year later, in January, 1838, after fuller 40 l^EEMOIE. conviction, that the general aim of his removal to Massachu- setts, in the pacific influence of his character, upon the unset- tled condition of affairs, would not be realized, the invitation was renewed, it was not at all to be wondered at, that it was accepted. And, great as were the regret and disappointment of his Boston parishioners and friends, at losing him, from among them, thej acquiesced, in the decision, as justified, by high considerations of duty to the Church, with the same no- bility of spirit, as had been manifested, in Grace Church, four years before. In returning to ITew York, to the Parish, which had brought him, from his first care, eighteen years before, the congregation of St. John's Chapel were, more es- pecially assigned to him ; with general duty, in Trinity Church, and both the Chapels. In this connection, he con- tinued seventeen years : laboring most faithfully, most as- siduously, most successfully, for the souls, committed to his care ; and foremost in every good word and work, whether in his parochial relations, and the promotion of learning and benevolence, in the great city, where his post had been ap- pointed, or in the wider sphere of the diocesan, or general, organization of the Church. The mere enumeration of his more public trusts and duties is appalling. He was, many yeai's, a member of the Standing Committee, of the Diocese of ]!^ew York. He represented the Diocese, in the General Convention, of 1832. He was Secretary, of the House of Bishops, from 1841, until after his consecration, in 1852. He was, for several years, Secretary of the Board of Ti'ustees of the General Theological Seminary. He was in the direction of Trinity School, the oldest Church-School, in America ; of the Society for the promotion of Religion and Learning, in the State of New York ; of the New York Bible and Com- mon Prayer Book Society ; of the Protestant Episcopal Tract Society ; and of the General Sunday School Union, of the Church. These are but some of his ecclesiastical trusts. In MEMOIE. 41 every enterprise for tlie promotion of Letters, Science, and Art, in every philanthropic enterprise, his was a leading mind, and his an nrgent hand. For, he accepted none of these positions, for the mere compliment, which they in- volved. He engaged in their responsibilities and duties, as a conscientious obligation : and he worked, I personally know, in every one of them, as if he had no other. No one, that did not live with him, could imagine the variety and extent of these labors of love. How, he found time for them, and, yet, neglected no immediate j)astoral duty, nor was wanting to any social or domestic claim, would be, to any other, than an inmate of his house, a matter of just surprise. It was by constant, cheerful, systematic industry, on a high religious principle. He was never, in a hurry. He never seemed overburdened. But, he rose early. He laid his work out, carefully. He pursued it, constantly. His heart was in it. It was with him, as it was with Jacob, in the service of his love, for Rachel. In the midst of all this multifarious care and work, how pleasant he was, how playful ! Always, time, to be happy, with an old friend. Always, time, to be social, with those whose claims were just, upon his social- ness. Always, ready to enter, heart and soul, into any thing, that made for Christian cheerfulness and fellowship. A more delightful companion, in the unreservedness of familiar love, I never knew. There were those, who, from the moderation and love of peace, which were such marked characteristics of Dr. Wain- wright, inferred indifference, in him, to great principles, and a slack Churchmanship. And, there were those, who saw, in him, the man of elegant letters, and the eloquent preacher, without the nerve, the vigor, or the materiel for learned dis- putation, and sharp controversy. An occurrence, during his later residence, in New York, disabused all such. The orator of the New England Society, in New York, at the Anniver- 42 MEMOIE. saiy of the landing of the Pilgrims, at Plymouth, in Decem- ber, 1843, was that eminent lawyer and most eloquent speaker, Kufus Choate, of Massachusetts. In the course of his oration, he had spoken of the Puritan exiles, in the reign of Mary, as having sought an asylum, in Geneva, where " they found a state, without a King, and a Church, without a Bishop : " a sentence, which was received, by the audience, with " long continued, and tumultuous, cheering." At the public dinner, on that day, Dr. Wainwright was called upon, to reply to the toast, " The Clergy of New England." He did so. In the course of his remarks, he repeated the sentence, above quoted ; and was interrupted by loud cheers. " Now, Sir," he continued, addressing the presiding officer, " notwithstanding this strong burst of approbation, to the sentiment, were this a proper arena, should even the orator of the day throw down his gauntlet, I would take it up ; and say, THERE CANNOT BE A CuUECH, WITHOUT A BiSHOP." And, when an eminent Presbyterian Minister, of the city of New York, the Rev. Dr. Potts, addressed a letter, to him, in " The Commercial Advertiser," of that city, calling him to account, for what he had said ; and declaring himself ready to debate, with him, the position, that " there cannot be a Church, without a Bishop," Dr. AYainwright promi3tly re- plied : " You have seen fit to give me, what I offered, to no one, at the New England dinner, ' a challenge and a defi- ance.' I quote your words — ' I will hold myself to prove, that this proposition ' ' is pregnant with innumerable evil consequences, theological, social and civil ; and, that it is un- scriptural, uncharitable, schismatical, and anti-republican, in its character.' I deny your assertion, in all its length and breadth ; and hold myself ready to maintain my denial, the moment you will enable me to do so, by advancing the argu- ment, on which you found your assertion," Here was a trumpet blown, with no " uncertain sound." From that time, MEMOIR. 43 none could doubt, as to the Cliurclimansliip of Dr. Wain- wriglit, or his bravery, or his vigorous ability, or his available and various learning. "What Dr. Ilaight has written, states well the course and issue of the controversy. " On one occa- sion, only, do wo lind Dr. Wainwright appearing, as a con- troversialist : and, then, it is with great credit, to himself, and with honor and advantage, to the Church ; whose principles he triumphantly defended. We refer to his letters to the Eev. Dr. Potts, a distinguished Presbyterian Divine, of ]^ew York, on the question, whether there can be a Church, with- out a Bishop. In this controversy, he ably maintained the doctrine of the Church : exhibiting a full acquaintance with the facts of Ecclesiastical History, and an accurate know- ledge of the Presbyterian standards, by which, he drove his antagonist oif, from the old platform of his denomination, and compelled him to take, substantially, that of the Congre- gationalists ; very much to the chagrin and annoyance of his co-religionists. This controversy attracted great attention, at the time ; from the circumstances in Avhich it originated, and from the high reputation which both the combatants enjoyed, as scholars and divines : and was the means, doubtless, un- der God, of strengthening the position of the Church." It was obvious, at the time of it, that the whole country was deeply interested, in this discussion. The papers of Dr. Wainwright contain conclusive evidence, that it pervaded all sorts and conditions of men, in the letters, which came in to him, from every quarter ; encouraging and commending him. The unquestionable ability, which he displayed, was beauti- fully set off, to those who knew him privately, by his humility and modesty. A striking illustration of his unwearied industry, and of his zeal in the cause of education, in its best and highest sense, is not generally known. When his eldest daughter had left school, he deeply felt, that her education was not complete ; 44 MEMom. that the system was imperfect. Under this conviction, he established a class, for young ladies, to be attended, with his own daughters ; to carry out a full course, in history, litera- ture and philosophy. It was composed of young ladies, of the highest position and influence. Many of them are, long since, wives and mothers. And, among the stores of his vast and varied correspondence, there are no letters more touching, or more precious, than those, in which, these daughters of the Church express their deep sense of their in- debtedness, for his instruction. JSTor, was his interest in edu- cation, limited, thus. In the absence of the Kev. Dr. Muh- lenberg, the admirable Founder and Head of St. Paul's Col- lege, from the country. Dr. "Wainwright removed his family to Flushing ; and took the charge of it. Well, do I remember the day, when, at Mr. Stuy vesant's delightful country-seat, at Belleville, he came, to meet me, to consult me, as to this un- dertaking. How his heart melted, and his tongue glowed, as he dilated, on the power and value of Christian nurture and training. In truth, his sympathies and tastes were essentially academic ; and he would have graced any one of the Col- leges, at Oxford, or at Cambridge. His papers contain out- lines of many courses of lectures, prepared by him, on vari- ous subjects ; on History, on Eloquence, on Architecture. He was an elegant and various scholar. And, what does not always go, with scholarship, it set his heart a-glow, so that his words burned. In the year 1848, he had a severe attack of Avhooping- cough. In his devotion to his work, he had gone on to preach, through it. The consequences became so serious, that his physician required a total intermission of all public duties. The Vestry of Trinity Church, wdth characteristic liberality, voted him one year's leave of absence ; continuing his salary, and providing, liberally for his expenses, in going abroad. He was absent, from September, 1848, to October, MEMOIR. 45 1849 ; being accompanied to Europe by a portion of his family. They remained at Rome ; where, as it turned out, they were exposed to the horrors, if not, the dangers, of the siege : while he went, in company with one of the merchant-princes of New York, his most aiFectionate and faithful friend, to Egypt and the Holy Land. His letters, to Mrs. "Wainwright, are most graphic and interesting. I do not know a traveller, with a keener eye, or readier hand. In the simplest way, he puts you, into his position : and you see, as he saw ; and hear, what he heard. Nothing is exaggerated, or overdrawn. It is an unaifected household narrative ; such as might have occupied the winter evenings, by his own fire-side. Two beautiful volumes, " The Pathways and Abiding Places of our Lord," and " The Land of Bondage," embody, in part, his observations, on these journeyings. They were elegantly printed, by the Appletons ; and are widely and favorably known. His literary labors were very numerous. He pub- lished many Sermons and Addresses, by request of those, at whose instance, they were delivered. He edited many valuable books. He superintended, with great care and labor, the American edition of the Illustrated Prayer Book. And he was, with the Eev. Dr. Coit, the chief working mem- ber of the Committee, of the General Convention, to prepare the Standard Edition of the Book of Common Prayer. Dr. Coit had made it a condition of his superintending the revi- sion, that Dr. Wainwright should be associated, with him. In his report, to the Committee, in 1844, Dr. Coit thus speaks of his labors, in that connection: "You well know his deep interest, in the trust committed to us ; and, how, of his gener- ous, unprompted, will, he exerted himself, among his friends, to secure us a sum of money, which would enable us to print a new book, with a press, under our entire control. Dr. AVainwright, with the same kindness, which led him to exert himself, otherwise, for our benefit, again came forward ; and 46 MEMOIR. gave his pledge, to cany a new book, through tlie press ; and revise it, with me. And he has redeemed that pledge, nobly. A new fount of type has l>een cast, for our express use ; sheets of his beautiful illustrated edition of the Prayer-Book have been placed, before me, to be prejiared, as copy, so that 1 might start, with all the advantage of his former valuable labors, ready to my hand ; and he has revised, with me, the proofs of our own book ; word for -word, capital by capital, italic by italic, point by jjoint, with the most unwearied as- siduity and patience, the live-long day, and to late hours of the night. The issue is now to be laid, before you ; but, I cannot do this, as in my own name : and, therefore, beg, that, if you attribute any merit to it, you will award a full moiety, to him. Your censure, when you think it necessary, I am willing to bear, singly : for, I can remember many errors, mto which I should have fallen, but for my associate's eru- dite and tasteful skill ; and, many more, from which he has rescued me, when they were actually committed." ISTo one, who has not been conversant with proofs, and proof reading, can begin to estimate the immense amount of labor, involved in such a work. Nor, will any one, who is competent to make this estimation, who shall carefully examine " the Standard Prayer-Book," fail to accord, to Dr. "Wainwriglit, and his distinguished surviving associate, the highest praise for taste and accuracy. Tlie whole Church will ever be their debtors, for this work and labor, which proceeded of love. " Many and many a free, earnest, and, sometimes, spicy, con- versation, did we have, together," writes Dr. Coit, in a letter, of recent date, " in our labors, over the Prayer-Book. But, while he would contend, fo)', what might be called, a literary opinion, to the very uttermost, the moment, I could sat- isfy him, that he was contravening the express will, or the fairly implied wish, of the Church, he yielded, like a little child, to the dictates of a venerated parent. I had supposed, IVEEMOIR. 47 as perhaps others might, that, while he woukl hij great stress, iipoii ritual matters, he would treat those of doctrine, with less attention. The result most agreeably surjirised me. He guarded every comma, in the xxxix Articles, as a Yestal would have watched the sacred fire." Dr. Wainwright, in addition to these labors, for the Prayer-Book, published two manuals of Family Devotion. In their devout and blessed use, his name has become a household word, at many a hun- dred hearths ; and his pious memory will be embalmed, in the social incense of the family altar, through generation after generation. The year 1852 was a marked era, in Dr. "Wainwright's honorable life. The venerable Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts had resolved to celebrate their third Jubilee, (the one hundred and fiftieth Anniversary,) on the fifteenth day of June, in that year. At a general meet- ing of the Society, on the 20th day of February, it was unan- imously resolved, that, "his Grace the President be requested to address a communication to the Bishops, of the United States, inviting them to delegate two or more of their num- ber, to take part, in the concluding services of the Society's Tliird Jubilee Year ; which will end, on June 15th, 1852." Tlie Archbishop of Canterbury transmitted the Resolutions of the Society, enforced by his own earnest request, to the Kev. Dr. "VValnwright, as Secretary of the House of Bishops. At an informal meeting of the Bishops, held in IN'ew York, on the 29th day of April, the Right Reverend Dr. McCoskry, Bishop of Michigan, and the Rt. Rev. Dr. DeLancey, Bishop of Western ISTew York, were requested to be present, and participate in the solemn services, proposed to be held, in "Westminster Abbey ; and, when Resolutions, of the most grateflil love and cordial sympathy, had been adopted, by the Bishops present, Dr. Wainwright, as the Secretary of the House of Bishops, was appointed, to convey them to the 48 MEMOIE. Archbishop of Canterbmy, as President of the Society. For a time, it was doubtful, whether the Bishops, designated, coukl execute the high and holy trust, committed to them ; and it was, then, deemed a becoming act of respect, to the venerable Society, and its Most Reverend President, that the Secretary should, in person, bear the resolutions, which had been adopted. ISTever shall I forget the day, on which he came to Riverside, to announce, to me, his mission. It was one, that filled and thrilled his heart. He sincerely regretted the possibility of the failure of the Bishops, to discharge their catholic errand. He expressed, with genuine humility, his own inadequacy to a trust, so high. And, yet, in all the depths of his simple-hearted, cordial, nature, he rejoiced, as well he might, in the enjoyment of an opportunity, so precious. He went. The Bishops sailed, soon after ; and were there, in time. Tliey bore themselves, as two such Bishops would, well and worthily of the occasion. And none rejoiced so much as they, that Dr. "Wainwright was the sharer of theii* joy ; ov bore such testimony to the grace and dignity, with which he did his part, in the great mission of the daughter, to the mother, Church. On every suitable occasion, he made the halls of England vocal, with his fervent Christian elo- quence : and, every where, the honor which his office claimed, and which his person every way conciliated, was freely j^aid, to him. Upon him, as well as upon the two distinguished Bishops, of our Church, the University of Oxford conferred the honorary degree, of D.C.L. It was a happy providence — happy, for both the Churches, and for himself — which sent Dr. Wainwright to England, in 1852. He had been twice, before. And, every where, he had made the most favorable impression ; as quantities of English letters show. But, now, he had an occasion. And he used it, nobly. I select, from many, two or three suffi- cient testimonies. "Who does not remember Archdeacon MEMOIR. 49 Sinclair ; who, so happily, presented, to onr eyes and hearts, the love of onr dear English mother, at onr last General Con- vention. Who, that saw him, who that heard him, will not feel, at once, that, from snch sagacity, from such ability, from such integrity, Avords are realities. I select, from a long and loving letter, which shows the truest estimation of my dear, dead, friend, a single passage. " You may remember, that, before the Episcopal Delegates, arrived, from the United States, a public recej)tion Avas given him, by the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, in Foreign Parts. His address, to the Society, was worthy of the man, and of the occasion. It was most able, dignified, and eloquent ; and made a deep impression, upon all, who heard it. Unhappily, it was not projjerly reported ; and, now, is lost." The other illustration of the mark, which Dr. Wainwright made, upon the strongest minds, and truest hearts, of his own native land, is supplied, by one, who stands, in the fore-front of England's sacred chivalry ; and does honor, even, to the honored name of Wilberforce, the able, the accomplished, the energetic. Bishop of Oxford. "My dear Bishop, in asking me to put down, in writing, my impressions of the late Bishop "Wainwright, you have set me, what, if only I could make my feelings inspire my words, would be, indeed, a labor of love. My acquaintance with him dates, from his arrival in England, in 1852, as the pre- cursor of your Bishoj^s, who attended our great festival of the Society, for the Propagation of the Gospel. I, then, saw much of him : in London, in the full stream of business, and in the excited atmosphere, which hung over it ; at the Bishop of London's palace, at Fulham, in the calmer and j)leasanter eddies of that busy life ; and, again, amongst the lakes of Westmoreland ; and, once more, where I had peculiar j^lea- sure, in receiving him, for his own sake, and as your Church's honored representative, at Cuddesdon Palace. At all times, 4 50 MEMOIE. and in all places, lie was, evermore, the same man. Ener- getic, bnsiness-like, self-restrained ; yet, with a gentleness of touch, and a ready quickness of tender and honorable feeling, which played, like lambent light, around some massive rock. When I was alone with him, and the great interests of the Church of Christ were under our discussion, how would he kindle, with his subject ! How did he join, in my longings, to see our common Church accomplish, with a new vigor, her great work of evangelization, through the earth ; bearing her clear witness, against the debasing cor- ruptions of Rome, on the one hand ; and, on the other, against that sure preparation for infidelity, the exalting of the religious feelings of the individual, against the Sacraments, and testimony, and authority, of Christ's true Apostolical Church. How did he thirst, to bring home, with living power, to every sinner's soul, the Cross and Name and Work of Christ, the Lord. I had promised myself, please God, many years of brotherly intercourse, with him. But, God has or- dered it, otherwise. We, in England, had just begun to see, what kind of Bishop he would make, when he was taken, to the rest of God's saints ; and that presence of the Lord, for which he longed. May we, by God's grace, be kept, as he was, faithful to the end ; and follow, in God's good time, thither, whither he has gone, before." Who would forgive me, if, to these two, I should not add a third : the expressive tribute of him, of the eagle eye, and lion-heart, the admirable Bishop of Exeter. He writes, from Durham ; where he was, then, in residence, as Prebendary. " My dear Dr. Wainwright, my daughter has delivered, to me, your message. Be assured, that, if you derived any pleasure, from your visit here, you conferred, by it, much greater pleasure, on him, who received you. I shall remem- ber, as long as I am permitted to remember any thing, the opportunity which God has, this year, given, to us, of culti- ]viEMom. 51 vatiiig the feelings of mutual affection, between tlie two great branches of the Reformed Church ; that of the American United States, and that of the British Isles, and our Colonies. This would have been my fixed and rooted sentiment, who- ever had been the representatives of your Church, among us. But, I will not be prevented, by any fear of wounding your delicacy, from saying, that the high qualities of the Bishops of Michigan and Western Kew York, and of yourself, have made me, and all the English Churchmen, with whom I have communicated, cherish that sentiment, with incalculably in- creased force. I venture to trouble you, with a letter to Dr. Berrian, in answer to one, which I have recently received. Perhaps, he will converse with you, on the principal matter, contained, in it. If he does, pray let me have the great benefit of your judgment, upon it ; as he has promised to give me his. Can you tell me how I can best transmit, to your two Bishops, the earnest invitation of the Warden of the University of Durham, to them, to visit this j^lace, in the last week of this month ; when there will be an interesting meeting of the Archaeological Society. Your Bishops will have aj)artments, in the Castle, the ancient residence of the Palatine Bishop of Durham. Farewell, my dear Sir ; and believe me, with very sincere regard and esteem, your faith- ful friend, and Brother in Christ." From the passage of the Canon of the General Conven- tion, of 1850, " of the election of a Provisional Bishop, in the case of a Diocese, w^here the Bishop is suspended, without a precise limitation of time," there were several unsuccessful at- tempts, to elect a Provisional Bishop, for the Diocese of Xew York. On the first day of October, of that same, event- ful, year, 1852, a very short time, after his return, from that most honorable mission, to our mother Church of England, Dr. Wainwright was chosen, to that office. How well, and wisely, for the Diocese, and for the whole Church, his Epis- 52 MEMOIE. copate, brief, as it was, sufficed to show. And, such was the instantaneous impression in every quarter. I have about me piles of letters, addressed, to him, on the occasion : not only, from the Diocese of New York, but from the whole American Church, and from the Church of England ; and, not, from Churchmen, only, but from the most distinguished ministers, of almost every denomination. 'No one, who bears in mind his fearless outspeaking, at the ISTew England Dinner, against the very suggestion, that a Church cotcld be without a Bishop ; and the clear, bold, uncompromising, defence, by which he triumphantly maintained his ground, in that most memorable controversy, will ascribe such letters to doubtful- ness in him, or a misjudging partiality, in them. No. They knew their man : and honored him, and loved him, as he was. And the secret of it is, that he was, himself, as Daniel was, " a man of loves." And they, in honoring him, did honor, to themselves. Dr. Wainwright's name had been often mentioned, in connection with the Episcopate, in several Dioceses. He had been often conferred with, on the subject. He had always held himself ready, for such service, as God should please to call him to. But, when the election was a fact ; and the fearful responsibility of accept- ing, or refusing, the most honorable trust, on earth, was brought home to his heart, he shrunk from it ; and trembled, like a little child. And, it was, in that childlikeness, which was, through grace, his nature, that he found the strength, which God is, to the weak, that trust in Him ; and which made his brief Episcopate so glorious. And his childlike- ness continued, through it, all, A simpleness of heart, too like a child's, for worldly wise men to believe, was real ; and, therefore, misjudged, often, as affected and artificial. But, no one could be, much, alone, with him ; no one could be with him, in his family ; no one could see him, with children ; no one could be of his company, on a holiday ; no one could MEMOIR. 63 cnjoj the comfort of his familiar correspondence : and not feel, and own, him, as, of the childlike, which Jcsiis loved ; and set np, as our pattern ; and declared, make np His King- dom. Blessed ones, in their meekness, and gentleness, and lovingness, they have His Kingdom, even, here ! The tenth day of ISTovember, 1852, the day on which Dr. Wainwright was consecrated, was a glorious festival. " Re- garded," the Church Journal says, " as the happy termination of Diocesan contests, which had lasted, with great acrimony, for years, this occasion was honored, by the presence of ten Bishops : and, for the first time, since the establishment of the American Episcopate, an English Bishop united, in con- secrating an American Prelate. This happy commencement of reunion and peace, celebrated, as it was, with uncommon splendor, and the united devotion of thousands, was fondly looked upon, as the inauguration of a long Episcoj^ate." As no ceremonial could have been more magnificent, celebrated, as it was, in a company of worshippers, which filled every standing spot, in glorious Trinity, and, with all that music could impart, of sweetness and solemnity, there were personal relations, involved, in it, of the most gratifying character. The Consecrator w^as the Yenerable Presiding Bishop, him- self, whom he had succeeded, as an Assistant Minister of Trinity Church : and who had been to him, through all the years, that followed, as a father, to a son. Of the Bishops, associated, with Bishop Brownell, in the consecration, one had been for the third part of a century his most immediate friend ; and all the rest, but one, knit with him, in the closest bonds of intimate affection. That one, a Bishop of the Church of England, the Right Rev. Dr. Fulford, of Mon- treal ; glad to return, so soon, the tokens of that Catholic and Apostolic love, of which Dr. "Wainwright had been, so recent- ly, the bearer, to his o^\ai most reverend Metropolitan. It mav be doubted, if " the laying on of hands" was ever, more 54 SIEMOIE. emphatically, tlie pouring out of hearts. How beautiful, he was, as he knelt, in his meekness, to receive the trust of an Apostle ! With what a manly fulness, fervor, and solemnity, he made his solemn promise of conformity ! How his heart heaved, and swelled, with its concluding words : " So help me God, through Jesus Christ ! " And, what an " Amen " went u]5, from that subdued and melted multitude ; that God might grant it all ! I have alluded to the joy, which was felt, in England, on his election and consecration. A few, of many, expressions of it, are due, not, to him, so much, as to the Catholic love, to which it testifies. A matter of im- portance, to the two branches of Christ's Church, not only, but, to the two nations. When I ventured to say, in Eng- land, in 1841, when an American Bishop first officiated at the altars of that Church, in addressing the Venerable Primate, Archbishop Howley, that the bond, which knit the Churches, was the bond, to hold the nations, " in unity, peace, and con- cord," he gave the full assent of his meek wisdom ; and added, with an earnestness, that kindled his serene and saint- like features, '"'' Esto jperjpetua ! " The most immediate house- hold friends of Bishop Wainwright, in England, were the family of Dean Pearson, spoken of, before. At his first visit, in 1836, a son of theirs, now a most useful and exemplary clergyman, travelled with him, on the Continent. It was a critical period of his life ; and he considered Dr. Wain- wright's companionship, as influential, for good, on its whole future course. The correspondence is that of the most loving friends. On the first intelligence of the election. Dean Pearson writes : " I need not tell you, with what heartfelt pleasure, we read the fulfilment of our anticipation of your approaching elevation to the Episcoj^al dignity." " The tes- timony, so largely and cordially borne, to your superior merits, must be gratifying, in the highest degree, not only to yourself, and your attached wife, family, and transatlantic MEMOIK. 55 friends ; but, to your mimerous admirers and friends, in the old country : who recognize you, as a genuine descendant of the English race, both in Church and State ; and rejoice to see talents and qualifications, which would have raised you to distinction, in the Mother Church and country, rewarded and elevated, in America. The proceedings of your Conven- tion, and the spirit, which pervades them, are eminently wise and Christian : and your own brief address, appropriate and characteristic of yourself, and of your qualification, for the 'good,' and exalted, office of a Bishop; as well as full of hope and confidence, with regard to your discharge of its responsible and solemn duties. Your friends have only to add their prayers, to your own, that the great and Divine Master, who has so evidently called you, to the highest station in His service, may continue to bestow upon }' ou His manifold gifts and graces ; the spirit of wisdom and under- standing, the spirit of power and of love and of a sound mind : the spirit, so largely bestowed upon His AjDostles ; especially, upon those, of whom we know most, by their in- spired writings : the venerable and holy Peter, the divine and beloved John, and the richly endowed, energetic, and labo- rious, Paul." — " How much should we have enjoyed the day of your consecration ; and our dear Hugh, in taking part, in the sacred and interesting service." " I hope some of the Colonial Bishops were able to be present ; and, that every thing holy, united, and edifying, combined, to render it a memorable and gratifying day. I had no idea of the extent of your Diocese, and of the number of your Clergy. May great grace be upon you all ! " — " I have kept my letter open, till the return of dear Hugh, from the great ceremonial of yesterday, the funeral obsequies of the Duke of Wellington. ITothing could exceed the grandeur, and the deep and solemn interest, of the whole scene. The choir of one hundred and fifty voices, in surplices. Tlie first burst of Dr. Croft's 'I 56 MEMOIE. am tlie ResuiTection and the Life,' without the organ, was most magnificent and imj^ressive. Goss' anthem ; the chorus, ' His body is buried, in peace ; but his name liveth ; ' and the Mornington chant, to the funeral Psahn. Besides the wonderful assemblage of distinguished persons, present." — " You, also, have lost a' great man, in Mr. Webster ; and, with him, I suppose, your great conservative leader. May the good providence of God unite us, Mother country and Transatlantic children, more and more closely, every year ! Our mutual welfare, and that of the whole world, are mani- festly interested, in the union. I must now say, farewell : as I have to write, by this day's mail, to my dear, and, nearly, oldest, friend, the Bishop of Calcutta ; who still enjoys health, and continues his Episcopal labors, after twenty years' resi- dence, in India. May you be preserved, in equal health, and vigor, and usefulness, to the same period of your Episcopate, in America ! " Alas, it was but two and twenty months ! At a little later date, the excellent Dr. Hook addressed him, as his way is, a most emphatic and whole-hearted letter. " I heartily thank you, for your kindness, in writing, to me. I had received the 'Nevr York papers, which contained an ac- count, first, of your election, and, then, of your consecration. I am preparing to publish these accounts, in the shape of a tract, for distribution, among my people. I think the Chris- tian spirit, evinced, in the proceedings, relating to the elec- tion, w^ill go far to reconcile our people, to Synodical action. The result was sublime : and I read the account of it, with tears in ]ny eyes. The conduct of the defeated party, in making the election unanimous, and the speeches made, were such as to call forth thanksgiving to the great Head of the Church, who vouchsafed such wonderful grace, to the Con- vention ; and blessed the Church, with so good a Bishop. The consecration must have been grand and impressive. But there have been other grand and impressive consecrations. MEMOIR. 57 The temper of the Convention, and the proceedings of tlie election, were uniqne. I am ghxd, the Bishop of Montreal was enabled to be present ; and I wish, that others conld have attended. The Bishop of Montreal and I were school- fellows, together, three and forty years ago, at Tiverton ; where Bisho]) Bull was educated." — " I lieartily congratulate the Church, on the happy event, of our being able to regard you, as one of our fathers. And I humbly pray, that the blessing of God may rest upon your labors ; while I commend myself, to your benediction." About the same time, the Venerable Archdeacon of London, Dr. Hale, writes to him, from the Charter House, of which he is Master. " I rejoice, for the sake of our Church, that you have been raised to the Epis- copate. If I oifer you, what is commonly called, congratu- lations, it is not because there is that, in the Episcopal office, which may gratify ambition ; much less, afford ease and repose : but, because, he, who is called to that office, is one highly honored, by ' the Shepherd and Bisho]3 of our souls ; ' and is intrusted with the greatest number of talents, to be employed, for his Master's, use. It is difficult for ns, who enjoy the blessing of an Established Churcli, to realize all the difficulties, with which, the voluntary system has to con- tend. Possibly, if your cares are greater, the rewards of your labor are, proportionably, sweeter. I look back, with great pleasure, upon the few brief hours of conference, which I had with you, here. AVhat greater pleasure, can there be, than in learning, and comparing, the condition of two branches of Christ's Church ; having a twin-like resemblance, to each other, in external features ; united by one faith and discipline : and, yet, so nnlikc each other, in their temporal and civil relations." I must add one tribute, from a layman w^ho is foremost, in every good word and work, Alexander J. Beresford Hope ; in Parliament, heretofore, from Maidstone. " Short as has been the acquaintance, which, thanks to the 58 MEMOIE. excellent Bishop of Lichlield, I liad the privilege of making, with you, I cannot resist troubling you, with one line, to say, with wliat deejj gratification I read that most interesting ac- count of your consecration, in the Morning Chronicle ; and to offer yon my warmest and most respectful congratnlations, npon it. The gathering of Bishops, and, specially, the inter- communion, with our succession, through the Bishop of Mon- treal, must gladden every heart. From the short conversation, which I had, with you, at the Society for the Propagation of the Gosjiel, I learned, with gratification, that you were anxious, for the establishment of the Cathedral system, in America. If the services of English Churchmen, in advanc- ing that, or any other, scheme, for the good of the Churcii, in America, should seem, to you, desirable ; and, that I could, in any way, be useful, in assisting it, I trust you will make use of my services : poor, as I know, they are." What can be heartier, or happier, in conception, or expression, or con- clude, more fitly, these heart-pourings, from the Sister Church, than tlie following, from the zealous and devoted Bishop of ISTewfoundland ? " Among numbers, who will congratulate you, and themselves, on your election, to the high and honorable office of Bishoj) of the chief city of the mightiest Republic, the world ever saw, there may be many, more immediately interested ; but few, if any, more sincerely rejoiced, and rejoicing, with, and, for you, (though, with trembling,) than one, whom you may have forgotten : but, whom the remembrance of jour kindness makes bold, to ad- dress you ; and to beg you to accept the assurance of his best wishes and prayers, in your behalf — that you may faith- fully serve God, in your high office, to the glory of His Name and the edifvino; and well-o-overnino^ of His Church ; and, so may be found perfect and irreprehensible, at the latter day, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. It would have been a great gratification to me, and I should have esteemed it a high IVIEMOIE. 39 privilege, to have attended, with my brother, Montreal, at your consecration. I am truly thankful, that the English branch of the Church Catholic was represented, and permit- ted to assist, on that interesting and important occasion. Your late visit to England, with your excellent brethren (and, I am privileged to add, my kind friends,) Bishops McCoskry and De Lancey, will, I am persuaded, with God's blessing, tend greatly to chain together more closely, and to join to- gether more firndy and fondly, the Sister Churches. I had the pleasure of forming, an acquaintance, and, I trust, some- thing, moi-e, with Bishops McCoskry and De Lancey, at Buffalo, last tall ; and I esteem it one of the happiest inci- dents of a very happy holiday." N'o one better deserves a holiday, than the self-denying and hard-working Bishop of Newfoundland : and, that no one can enjoy one more, or make others happier, in its enjoyment, I can vouch, from the fragrant memories of one, which he passed, many years ago, at Riverside. Bishop Wainwright participated in but one General Con- vention ; that, in N^ew York, in 1853. It was the same, which was honored and blessed, by the presence of the English Del- egation, from the venerable Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, in Foreign Parts, to our Board of Missions : the Rt. Bev. Dr. Spencer, late Bishop of Madras ; the venerable Ai"chdeacon of Middlesex, Dr. Sinclair ; the Reverend Ernest Hawkins, Secretary of the venerable Society, and, for many years, its most efficient working man ; and the Rev. Henry Caswall, Yicar of Fighildean, an American, in orders, and in one half of his kind heart. "Who did not regard it, then, as providential, that Dr. Wainwright was the Provisional Bishop of IsTew York ? Who, else, could, so well, have discharged the relation, thus created, between the sister Churches ? How dignified he was, in his courtesy ! How beautiful, in his hospitality ! And which of his brethren ever can forget 60 MEMOIR. his constant and assiduous attention, in sujiplying tliem with every comfort and convenience ? Yery few men, that I have known, knew how to do every thing, so welL JSTone, that I ever knew, who did his "spiriting," so gently. Immediatel}", after liis election, Bishop Wainwright en- tered fully, upon the duties of his office. He knew, how long the Diocese had been without the services of its Diocesan. He knew, how critical the moment was, which introduced a Bishop, under the new Canon. He knew, no doubt, that some inight apprehend, that he was not a working man. l^o doubt, he solemnly remembered, that " the night cometh, when no man can work." " Anxious to serve faithfully that Diocese, which, by so large a vote had called him, to preside over it, Bishop Wainwright refused," says the Church Journal, " to moderate his Episcopal labors, by any consideration, for his own health. This enormous Diocese is too heavy a burden, for even the most vigorous man, in the flower of his age ; and the determination to do, what no man of his years could rea- sonably expect to perform, has hurried the devoted Bishop to his grave. In spite of the repeated and jjressing remon- strances of his friends ; in spite of several premonitory warn- ings, that he was altogether overtasking his strength, the in- defatigable Prelate was no sooner restored, from one attack of sickness, than he pushed forward, into a fresh round of la- bor." It might be well inscribed, upon his monument, " the zeal of Thine house hath eaten me up." He projected, at once, a complete visitation of the whole Diocese, with its three hundred Clergymen, before the next Convention; a period of eleven months. And he accomplished it. It was my grea.t pleasure to be with him, when on a visit, to my beloved friends, at Troy, at his first Visitation. It was, in the evening. He preached, and administered confirmation. And, then, he addressed the confirmed persons. I did what I could, to prevail on him, not to make the address. MEMOIE. 61 It seemed, to me, always, a superfluity. In his case, with such an immense Diocese, it would be a great bur- den. But, he did it. And he did not do it, very well. " You have spoiled my address, for me, this time,'' he said : " for I was foolish enough, to be embarrassed, by your pres- ence. But, I wdll not give it up." He did not. And the result was, two sermons, at every confirmation. His wdiole heart was in his work. He had always been a laborious man. He felt himself more than ever bound to labor, now ; that he was to be an example, to the pastors, as well as, to the flock. He did not consider his advanced age. He did not consider the difference, in the kind of work. He did not consider the entire change, in his manner of life ; uncertain hours, irregu- lar meals, unconscious occupation, a constant drain, upon his spirits, and his strength. Above all, he did not consider, what even St. Paul considered, the hardest, and the heaviest of his burdens, " the care of all the Churches." High and holy, as his motive was, it must be owned, that he was imprudent, in his zeal. An instance, or two, out of many, will serve, as an illustration. The first is supplied by one of his most de- voted presbyters, the Rector of the parish of his first Yisita- tion, now the efiicient Domestic Secretary of the Board of Missions. " I remember, at one of the Bishop's visits to Troy, he came, after an accident, at Copake, which caused a pain- ful lameness. He not only laid the corner stone of St. John's Church, on Saturday, when severely suffering ; but, insisted on preaching and confirming, the next morning, in St. Paul's. He w^as so lame, that he preached, sitting in his chair ; and, nev- er, with more earnestness, or effect. In the confirmation, the candidates came to him, one by one, as he stood, at the centre of the chancel rail : and the scene was very touching ; as, on bended knees, they severally received the laying on of hands, with his earnest blessing. After the service, though evidently suffering much, he refused to have a physician called ; and in- 62 MEMOIR. tended to persevere, witli the other duties of the day. I sent, however, for mv family physician : who no sooner saw him, than he discovered the signs of erysipelatous inflammation ; and positively enjoined rest and remedies." "His forgetful- ness of himself, and his earnest devotion to his duties, were thus signally illustrated ; as in all the self-consuming labors, which, so soon, terminated his earnest and useful Episcopate." An- other, and a striking testimony, to the same effect, is fur- nished by one, who knew him well, the E.ev. Dr. Coit, now, Eector of St. Paul's Church, Troy. " With Bishop Wain- wright, a deep conviction of duty was always overmastering. Satisfy him, that any thing was his duty ; and he feared no consequences, in its performance. This was not the impres- sion of many, I know. For, he was so reluctant to displease or pain any human being, as, often to be thought, vacillating or timid. Perhaps, I, myself, had the same opinion ; with others, who have not known him, intimately. But, as I came into closer contact with him, and watched his conduct, under trying circumstances, I became satisfied, that duty was, with him, an all-prevailing word. Those, who knew him, only, at a distance, presumed, that he would have an easy Episcopate. I knew, he would have a hard, because, an uns]>aring, one : and, was not at all surjjrised, when he became a martyr, to his self-devotion. The last recollection, which I have, of him, fully sustains the impression, which I had slowly, but surely, formed. I saw him, at Christ Church, Troy, on the evening of Sunday, June 11, 1854, for the last time. He had held an ordination, in my own Church, in the morning ; and went to Christ Church, in the evening, for a confirmation. The next day, he went to Glen's Falls ; and, on Tuesday morning, was to meet several of us, at the station, in Troy, to go down the river, to attend the quarterly Convocation. At the station. Bishop Otey told us of his sudden illness ; and, that he was going straight home. One of the Clergy insisted, that some MEMOIE. 63 of lis should accomj^any him. ' No,' I said ; ' I know the Bishop better than yon do. He will be vastly better pleased, to have us go to the Convocation ; and do our duty, there.' I mentioned this, in a letter : and he replied, at once, that 1 had done just what he preferred." " So, to the last, my recol- lection of him is, that he was unfailingly true to duty ; with- out regard to himself." Bishoj) Wainwright's last public ministrations were at Haverstraw. The memorandum of his visitation, there, made by the Missionary, the Rev. J. Breckenridge Gibson, will pos- sess a sacred and peculiar interest. " The Bishop reached Haverstraw, on Saturday evening, August 26, at T o'clock. I met him, at the boat, with my little boy ; and he rode home, in my carriage. Although he looked fatigued, he seemed well ; enjoyed his tea : and, after a short evening, spent in talking over our Church affairs, he retired, quite early. One incident, I cannot forbear mentioning ; as it illustrates his kind interest in little children. Remembering that I had two little boys, though he had seen them but once, and, that, a year before, he had thought of them, on his way, to the boat. While we were sitting, at the tea-table, he left it, for a mo- ment, to go to his carpet-bag ; and brought them a paper of candy. A trifling circumstance : but, the proof of no ordi- nary kindness of heart, in one, so occupied with the highest responsibilities. On Sunday morning, the Bishoj) rose, at six ; and came from his room, looking perfectly well : and, he said, feeling so. After breakfast, he rode, with me, about a mile and a half, to the humble room, in Avhich our services were held. He, there, addressed the children of the Sunday School, in a most earnest and affectionate manner. He, then, returned, to my house ; and remained there, till the hour of morning service. We met, in the First Presbyterian Church. He read the ante-communion service ; and preached, from Romans x. 10: 'With the heart, man believetli unto rio-lit- 64 MEMOIR. eousness.' Tlie power of the sermon, and the eloquence Avith which it was delivered, were manifested, by the manner, in which it was listened to, and the effect which it produced. The place of worship was large ; and filled with a congrega- tion, representing almost all shades of religious opinion. The breathless attention and deep interest, shown, sometimes, in tears, were highly gratifying. After the sermon, the Bishop explained the holy rite of Confirmation. He esjjecially en- deavored to do aAvay the erroneous impressions, of those, without the Church, as to the use of the word, ' regeneration.' He confirmed thirteen persons ; and addressed them, most solemnly and affectionately. There had been a great change, in the weather, during the service ; the wind having become damp and cold, and the sky overclouded. As we were riding home, the Bishop regretted, that he had only a thin coat. He felt rather chilled. After dinner, of which he partook, with an excellent appetite, he retired to his room, and rested, till half past four. The afternoon service was in the Central Presbyterian Church. This, also, was crowded, with an at- tentive and interested congregation. He preached a most excellent sermon, with great animation and fervor, from 1 St. John ii. 3 : ' Hereby, we do know, that we know Him, if we keep His commandments.' A deep impression was, evi- dently, made, on the minds of the listening congregation. After the sermon, he gave out the 40tli Hymn ; and, then pronounced the greater Benediction. Our little flock look back, to their great privilege, in, thus, receiving, as it were, his dying blessing ; with thankful, though with saddened, hearts. The Bishoj), then, thanked the Pastor and Trustees of the congregation, for the use of their Church ; alluded to the spirit of Christian courtesy, thus manifested : and said, in words, which will be ever in our ears, that it was im2)ossi- ble they could all meet again, on earth ; but he hoped that all might, before the Throne of God, to receive the sentence. MEMOIR. 65 '"Well done, good and faithful servant, enter tliou into the joy of thy Lord.' On our way home, the Bishop again spoke of the chilliness of the atmosphere ; although lie was rather more warmly clad, than in the morning. lie retired early ; not seeming much fatigued. Indeed, he said, that his labors, that day, had been comparatively light. He rose, on Mon- day, at five. Breakfast was prepared ; and there was ample time. But, he declined it : saying, that he was used to eat- ing, at any hour ; and it would not hurt him, to wait for his breakfast, till he reached New York. He added, that he had recently gone, from Catskill, to New York, without any nour- ishment. I drove him, to the boat. And, as he stood, on the bow, he seemed, in spite of the previous day's work, like one in full and vigorous health ; and fresh, as though he had passed a day of rest, instead of one of toil." But, it was not so. The chilliness, which he had felt, on Sunday, was " the beginning of the end." And, it came, very soon. The Church Journal has briefly narrated its fear- ful progress. " Tlie next day, his fever began. On Wednes- day evening, he was brought down to the Depository, to at- tend a long and important meeting of the Church Book Soci- ety. The following (Thursday) evening, an adjourned meet- ing of the same was held, at his residence : he presiding, un- til the end of a long debate ; though scarcely able to sit up, at all. This was his last act of Episcopal business. His last letter was, from dictation, to the Bishop of New Hampshire ; requesting him to act for him, in consecrating the new Church at Champlain, which had been appointed, for Sep- tember 14tli. As yet, however, no serious alarm was felt, until, at length, his family, becoming alarmed, at the increas- ing danger of his symptoms, sent for Drs. Hosack and Wilkes : who remained, in constant attendance, on him, throughout ; and did all that science could do, to preserve a life so valua- ble. But, all was in vain. The stupor, which is the charac- 5 66 MEMOTB. teristic of the typhoid tjj^e of fever, settled upon him, more and more deeply, from day to day. Nourishment, he, almost wholly, refused. Until, at length, in a state of un- consciousness, he quietly passed away, to a better world." " He died, on the Feast of St. Matthew, the Apostle, Thurs- day, September 21, 1854; in the sixty-third year of his age." After all, it was a beautiful and glorious death. In the two and twenty months of his Episcopate, he had averaged more than one sermon, a day. He had consecrated 15 Chm'ches. He had ordained 37 Deacons, and 12 Priests. He had confirmed 4127 persons. And, all this, as nothing, to that, which came upon him, daily, "the care of all the Churches." His work seemed but just begun. And, yet, he had settled, and harmonized, a Diocese, which had been long distracted : and had given to the whole Church, till every eye and heart was filled, " assurance of a " Bishop. It was a beautiful and glorious death, to die. His last public acts at a Missionary Station, one of the old landmarks of the venerable Society, in England ; but never before visited by a Bishop. His last texts, so well fitted to be the last : " With the heart, man believeth unto righteousness ; " and, " Hereby, we do know, that we know Him, if we keep His commandments." His last words, so impressive : a solemn charge, as it were, to all his hearers, to be, with him, at the throne of God. And his last hymn ! What could have been more touching ? So swan-like ; and so sweet ! "Lord, dismiss us, with Thy hlessing; Fill our hearts, with joy and peace ; Let us, each, Thy love, possessing, Triumph, in redeeming grace : 0, refresh us, Travelling, through this wilderness. MEMOIE. 67 Thanks, we give, and adoration. For the Gospel's joyful sound ; May the fruits of Thy salvation, In our hearts and lives, abound : May Thy presence. With us, evermore, be found ! " As his last act of personal kindness, the overflowing, al- ways, of his gentle and most loving heart, was that sweet thonghtfulness, as to the Missionary's little boys, so, the last labor of his love was for the children of the Church, in those two sessions of the Church Book Society, which exhausted, what the fever had left, in him, of life. And, though one yearns, for the last words, wdiicli that dark typhoid pall shut in, his death was, like liimself, serene in silence. For the last five hours, he lay, surrounded by his darlings ; his wife and his eight children, with their faithful friend and physician, Dr. Hosack, while the life-stream ebbed away. The scene was quiet. All was composed : except, when, now and then, a gush of sorrow would break forth. " My beloved, you are going to be with Jesus ; to be for ever happy. Do you rest in Him ? " The closing eyes half opened. The venerable head moved its assent. Tlie mother and the children im- pressed their farewell kiss, upon that noble brow. And, all was still. The spirit was with God. How, the funeral scene, that followed, contrasted, with the consecration scene, not tAvo years passed. The same magnifi- cent Church. The same dense throng, crowding its walls. The same beloved one, the magnet of all hearts. But, now, funereal sorrow, funereal gloom, funereal stillness ; until bro- ken, by the pathetic accents of the venerable Rector of Trinity Church, as with solemn step and slow, he preceded, what was mortal, of his friend and Bishop, with those sublime and com- fortable words, "I am the Eesurrection and the Life." The lesson was read by the Bishop of Illinois ; who had been his 68 MEMOIE. youthful parisliioner, in Grace Church. The remainder of the service was bj the Bishop of New Jersey. All, tliat music could lend, of tenderness and solemnity, to such a scene, was lovingly contributed, by Dr. Hodges, and those whom he directed : and, worthily, to one, who has done more, • than any other man, to make Church music, what it should be. None, that heard it, will evei- lose the sense of deep, and, yet, triumphant, sorrow, in that voice from heaven, " Write, From henceforth, blessed are the dead, who die in the Lord : even so, saith the Spirit ; for they rest from their labors." Here, let me drop the impersonal, so hard to keep, when heart has knit itself with heart, and close my sketch, in out- line, with the few words, to which, on the day after the fune- ral, I gave utterance, in my own pulpit, in the midst of my parishioners. They were heart-words. And hearts were melted by them ; till they flowed, like water. " Beloved, in the one and twenty years, that we have lived, and loved, together, how few of you, there are, with whom, I have not wept ! Is there a house, of yours, to which I have not come, in sorrow, or in sickness, or in death ; to lay my heart, by yours, and soothe its throb bings, with the sympathy of mine. To-day, I bring my sorrow, to your door. To-day, I come to you, for sympathy. My heart, for the last week, has been beside the dying, and the dead. And, I now come, to you, from the very grave, which opens, nearest to my own. When Jesus came, where Lazarus was laid, he could not speak. He could but weep. Yes, ' Jesus wept.' And you will let me say as little, as I may, to you, this morn- ing ; and rather listen to my dear, dead, friend, than, to him, whom he has left, to loneliness and lamentation. My brethren, life is short, to lose a friend, of five and thirty years. To him, who is to live the longest, there is not time enough, for such another. And, such an one, I buried, yesterday. I MEMOIE. 69 was, yet, a candidate for boly orders, and, but twenty years of age, when, in 1819, the Rev. Mr. Wainwright came to JSTew York, as one of the Ministers of Trinity Church, wliere I was a parishioner. lie was but seven years older. And peculiar sympathy, intastes and studies, soon made that diifereuce, as nothing. And though, officially, my pastor, we from the lirst, were personal friends. We read, together ; we studied, together ; Ave thought, and felt, and, almost, lived, together. And, from the time, that I left jN^ew York, in 1821:, until he had none, upon earth, his house was as wel- come to me, as my own ; and always was, as home, to me. When my first-born son was to be new-born, in Holy Bap- tism, he took the vows, and ever tenderly regarded the relation, of a sponsor. He succeeded me, in the only Rector- ship, I ever held, till I was your Rector ; that of Trinity Church, Boston : and was thus knit in, more closely, with my heart, through the fond love of mutual friends. At the eventful period of my consecration, I was his guest ; and leaned upon his friendship, and was encouraged by his love. In all the troubles and sorrows, that have befallen me, his was the sympathizing heart, and his the Avord of consolation. He Avas in England, when more than my life was perilled : and, in the noblest presence, that the Venerable Society for the Propagation of the Gospel ever had assembled, he stood up ; and with a voice, which rang, the kingdom, through, and had an echo, here, asserted his own perfect assurance of his friend's integrity. ISTot quite two years ago, I laid my Avhole heart, with my hand, upon his venerable head ; Avhen he was conse- crated, to the office of a Bishop. Tliere Avas nothing, that he did not do, except neglect his duty, to be Avith me, at the consecration of this Church, on Avhich, his heart Avas fully set ; and, which, our necessary postponement of it, alone, prevented. The last time, that I ever saw him, was when he came, to be Avitli me, at the consecration of another Church, 70 MEMOIE. in the uortliern portion of tlie Diocese : when we parted, with purposes, and plans, and promises, of a re-union, here ; which never was to be. And the last line, to me, that his true hand ever traced, was the assurance, that, though he must be in a distant quarter of his Diocese, his spirit would be with us, when God fulfilled our prayer ; and took this temple, for His own. You will deeply feel, my well-beloved, with what anxiety of heart, I took my pilgrimage, to his sick chamber, when I first learned, that his sickness threatened death : and only reached it, though I went, at once, when so little of him was left, that even his two devoted physicians failed to arouse his consciousness. You will feel deeply, how my heart was pierced, when, in the midst of academic duties, on Friday last, the tidings of his death came, suddenly, upon me : and, as I hastened out, into the bright and balmy day — as bright and balmy, as if death had never been — I felt myself alone, on earth. And you will deeply feel, with what yearnings of the soul, I stood, among the darlings of his heart, by the bright hearth, which God had darkened, by his death ; with what grief, too deep for tears, I said, over his dear remains, the words, which consecrated them for the Resurrection, 'earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust;' and, how, when I passed the coffin, as it left the Church, and laid my hand upon its head, in token of the fond embrace, which, as, I trust, awaits me, where he is, the man was melted ; and, like Joseph, I went out and wept, alone. Too literal, in me, the words of mourning David, when the brother of his heart was taken, from him : ' I am distressed, for thee, my brother Jonathan ; very pleasant hast thou been, imto me ; thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women. How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war perished ! ' — ^But, of myself, and of my grief, enough. Let me ask your prayers, beloved, for as bright and happy a home, as ever lighted its hearth-fires ; now, dark and deso- MEMOIR. Tl late : a widowed mother, weeping, with her fatherless. Let me ask your prayers, for a Diocese, bereaved of its Bishop : who had knit all hearts into his own ; and God's blessing, on whose labors, gave as fair a promise, as the Church has ever seen. Let nie ask your prayers, for the whole Church ; which mourns, in him, one of her wisest counsellors, and one of the most valiant leaders of her host : ' decus atque columen ' / her pillar and her pride. And, for the lesson of his death, accept but this : the beauty akd the glory of self-sacrifice. From the happiest home ; from the widest circle of devoted and admiring friends ; from the serene and quiet duties of the pastoral life, in which his heart delighted, among a peo- ple, who had called him, to them, five and thirty years, before, he went, at the call of duty, to the cares and toils and trials of the Episcopate : in the lai'gest and most laborious of our Dioceses ; and, at a time, when a most painful provi- dence had made its trials infinitely trying, and its labors, im- measurably laborious. But, he went, at the call of God, and in His strength. And, in less than two years, he restored the waste places of Zion ; and set his vineyard in most j^er- fect order : and, the very next week, expected to rejoice, with his assembled Clergy and Laity, in the account which he was to render, to them, with such joy, as theirs, who bring the vintage, home. But, he had overtasked his strength. At sixty, one, with peril, enters on an untried course of life. He entered upon his, with the ardor of one, half his age. He forsook his happy home. He divorced himself, from his beseeching friends. He gave his days, to labor, and his nights, to care. Again and again, he was prostrated, in his work. Again and again, his friends admonished him of his danger. Again and again, I implored him to work less, that he might work longer ; and, so, more. It was all in vain. Tlie vows of God were on him. The zeal of His house had eaten him up. Again and again, when he had hardly rallied, 72 MEMOIE. from entire prostration, lie returned prematurely, to the rescue. And, in the midst of the herculean labors, which he had wrought, and which he had planned, he entered, on Thursday last, into the only rest, of which his zealous heart would hear ; and sweetly sleeps, in Jesus. A gallant and a glorious death, was his. His feet, on the field. His face, to the foe. His armor on. His spear, in rest. The crown of life falling, mid-fight upon his brow. ' His body is buried, in peace ; but his name liveth, for evermore.' " JSTo other deaths, but those of Bishop Hobart, and Bishoj) "White, have agitated the Church, so deej)ly. l^one other has called forth such testimonials of honor, gratitude, and love. The address of his associate and dear friend. Dr. Hig- bee, at the funeral was as true, as it was touching, in its elo- quence ; and swayed the hearts, of all that vast congregation, as the heart of one man. " I seek not to j)ortray him, to you, in his labors, in the Diocese ; bringing; to these labors, his whole life and soul, yet, in meekness and humility. The record of his toil, during the two years of his Episcopate, is known to you, all : and the fruits of his labor will remain, in the hearts of thousands of the young, the old, the rich, the poor, clergymen and laymen, of this city and this Diocese. And, tliere^ is the result, to him. He did labor, unto the death. But, no ; thank God : that is not the result, to him. ' They, who are wise, shall shine, as the brightness of the firmament ; and they, who turn many to righteousness, as the stars, for ever and ever.' One of the morning papers of this city, yesterday, in announcing his death, used the follow- ing touching words. ' Since the period of his election, he has known but little rest. We have often seen him, wrapt in an ample cloak, waiting, in severe storms, the arrival of con- veyances to take him to and from the city. The clergy re- spected him. The laity supported him. His friends loved and honored him ! ' — ' "Waiting ; ' ' waiting, in severe storms ! ' MEMOIR. 73 Aje ; in every part of tlie Diocese, has he been seen ; wait- ing, in tlie summer's heat, and in the winter's cokl. No ; not waiting. But, every where, on the great liighways, and aside from the thorouglifares of travel, in lonely vales, and among bleak hills, braving the inclement seasons, and wet with the dews of the night, he has been constantly seen : pursuing his way, by any convenience, wdiich might be presented to him, from one distant point to another, to visit the populous town, or the humble country church, or the obscure school-house ; hastening to bestow his blessing, wdiether on the great con- gregation, or on the poor, gathered together, in God's name. No consideration of j)ersonal convenience or comfort ; no mere weakness and languor and pain ; no private interest or social invitation ; no anxious remonstrance from his friends, and they were many, were allowed to interfere with his duties, from the least to the greatest. My last words, to him, were a remonstrance, in case of a recovery, against this ex- cessive labor. His reply told me, that he w\as unconscious of any excess ; and, then, his mind ran off on past and pro- •spective duties. Alas, our master is taken, from our head, to-day. The field misses the strong laborer. The shield of the warrior is pierced, in the battle. Alas, my bretliren ! Alas ; but, not, for him ! His toil, his pain, his conflicts, are all over. The rough toils, the weary way, the heat and cold, are past. The tempest no more breaks over his head ; and the rude wind is still. The good soldier is fallen ; ' with his face to the foe,' and his armor on. The faithful laborer has gone upward ; not deserting the harvests, but bearing his sheaves, with him." This is real eloquence. And, as true, as it is touching. "When I say, that, to such a pen, I leave the portraiture of Bishop Wainwright, as a preacher, I say what will be more than satisfactor3^ The Rev. Dr. Higbee selects and arranges the sermons, for this Memoeial Volume — the title is the beautiful suggestion of our most venerable 74 MEMOIE. and beloved Presiding Bishop — and will premise an intro- duction. From every quarter of tlie Church, and from the Cliurch of Enghind, letters, the most aifecting and aifectionate, came in, at once. Commemorative sermons were preached, in every pulpit, of the Diocese ; and, in not a few, beyond it. Resolutions of sympathy and admiration, to fill a volume — from almost every parish, as well from the numerous asso- ciations, with which the Bishop was connected — were sent to Mrs. Wainwright. Of the letters, and of the resolutions, I select but two. Tlie Venerable Archdeacon Sinclair writes, as follows : " Among the friends of the late Bishop Wain- wright, there are not many on your side of the Atlantic, and there are none on mine, who feel more deeply, than I do the grievous loss, which his family and the Church have sus- tained, by his death. I read the sad intelligence, unexpect- edly, this morning, in the newspapers ; and my immediate object, in writing to you, is to say, that, when a plan is brought forward, by the members of the Church, in New York, for evincing, by some public testimonial, the high esti- mation in which they held him, I should consider it a favor, if you would add my name, to the list of contributors. You may put it down for any sum, which may be given, by those, among the clergy, who are best able, in this way, to express, their feelings of respect and affection, in which, I know that all j)articipate. Long and extensive, as my experience has been, I scarcely ever knew so wise and good a man as Bishop Wainwright ; none, so well adapted, to the arduous office, to which Providence had called him. May God direct the Church, in the choice of his successor ! For my own part, I so highly valued his friendship, that one of the motives, which miglit have induced me to revisit the United States, would have been, to enjoy, once more, the privilege of seeins: him." MEMOIE. 75 Six days, after tlie decease of Bishop Wainwright, the Convention of the Diocese assembled, for its stated annual session. With what deep disappointment, and heartfelt sor- row ! They had anticipated a joyful meeting, with their be- loved and honored Bishop. They came, to weep together, over his grave. What follows is from the Journal of their proceedings : " The Convention was called to order by the Secretary ; and the Senior Presbyter, present, the Rev. William Berrian, D. D., took the chair ; pursuant to the fifth Rule of Order. The following Preamble and Kesolutions were submit- ted, by the Pev. the Secretary ; and were unanimously adopted. Whereas^ This Convention has assembled, this day, under circumstances of peculiar solemnity, by reason of the recent decease of its late honored Pt. Pev. Father in God, the Pro- visional Bishop of the Diocese : Therefore, Resolved^ unanimously, at this, the first oppor- tunity of passing an order, that a Committee of nine be ap- pointed, to consider and report what proceedings it is proper for this Convention to take, to testify their sense of the loss, which the Diocese has sustained, in this sore bereavement ; and to do honor to the memory of their late beloved Father. jResol'Ved, That the aforesaid Committee consist of the following Clergymen and Laymen : the Pev. Drs. Higbee, Tyng, Brown, Lewis, and W. L. Johnson and the Hon. Luther Bradish, the Pev. Martin Lee, Washington Lwing Esq., and Professor Pobert W. Weir. Resolved, That the Committee have leave to retire from the sittings of the Convention. Subsequently, on motion of the Pev. Dr. Higbee, the Rev. Dr. McYickar was added to the Committee, and made the Chairman. Septemher 'iStk. On motion of the Secretary, the reading of the Report of the Standing Committee of the Diocese was 76 MEMOIE. postponed, to give opportunity to hear the Report of the Committee, appointed yesterday, to consider and report what proceedings it is proper for this Convention to take, to testify their sense of the loss, which the Diocese has sus- tained, in their sore bereavement, and to do honor to the memory of their hite beloved Father. The Rev. Dr. McYickar, Chairman of that Committee, in their behalf, presented, and read, the following Report : The Committee appointed to consider and report what proceedings it is proper for the Convention to take, to testify'- their sense of the loss, which the Diocese has sustained, in the death of their late Provisional Bishop, and to do honor to his memory, herewith report the following Preamble and Resolutions : Whereas, It hath pleased Almighty God, in His wise providence, to visit the Church of this Diocese with sudden and sore bereavement, by withdrawing from the scene of his earthly labors, and from the Episcopal charge, so recently committed to him, our late Right Reverend Father in God, Jonathan Mayliew Wainwright, D. D., D. C. L., Provisional Bishop of this Diocese ; Therefore, Resolved, That, as becomes Christian men, and members of Christ's holy Church, we do bow, in humble submission, under this chastisement of our Heavenly Father's hand ; and, both, as a people, and, in our individual ap- proaches to the Throne of Grace, do beseech Him to sanctify, unto us, and to the Church of his love, and to tlie late Bishop's bereaved family, this most unexpected and afflictive disj^en- sation. Resolved, That, in view of the many, long, affectionate and faithful services, rendered to the Church of Christ, in this Diocese, during more than twenty years of his ministerial life, as Pastor and Bishop, by our late deceased Iriend and brother, and of the manifold gifts, both of nature and grace, which rendered these services so widely acceptable, and him- self so admired and beloved, we would here record our thank- MEMOIE. '11 fulness, for the same, to the great Head of the Church ; and pray, that He woukl send forth many such Laborers, into His harvest, sanctiiied, and fitted, for their work. Besolved, That the untiring, self-sacrificing labors of our late Provisional Bishop, during the period of his, alas ! too short. Episcopate, demand, from the Diocese, at large, a pecu- liar expression of their gratitude, reverence and love ; and it is, hereby, earnestly commended, to the wealthier members of our communion, that some worthy memorial of the same, whether in the form of an educational endowment, bearing his name, or of external monument, erected, (if agreeable to the Yestry of Trinity Church,) in its new and spacious Chapel, to which, it is well known. Bishop Wainwright looked forward, as his spiritual home, should perpetuate the memory of his devoted and unremitting toil, in the service of his Master, and in the care of His fiock. Resolved, That the Church, at large, in the Diocese, owes to the memory of its late Provisional Bishop a special debt of gratitude, in the mission of love and peace, which, during his two years' Episcopate, so pointedly, both, marked his course, and blessed his labors. He poured oil upon the troubled waters. Every Avhere, he souglit peace, and en- sued it. And, on his dying couch, his latest labor was, re- conciliation. For this, the Church owes, to his memory, a debt of gratitude, best paid, by each member of it, in his own appropriate sphere, going forth in the spirit of love, and doing likewise. Resolved, That, amid our demonstrations of public sorrow, at the loss we have sustained, we forget not the private griefs of his bereaved family ; but would, hereby, express to them our deep and heartfelt s^nnpathy, for their bereavement ; our aflectionate and reverential memory of him, whom they mourn ; and our earnest prayers, at the Tlirone of Grace, for their consolation and support here, and their blessed re-union hereafter ; where tears are wiped away from every eye. Resolved, lastly. That the above Pesolutions be adopted by the Convention, entered at large on its minutes, and a 78 MEMOIR. copy of the same be respectfully communicated to the family of the deceased Bishoj), and also to the Yestry of Trinity Church. (Signed) JOHN McVICKAK, EDWARD Y. HIGBEE, WILLIAM H. LEWIS, MAETIN LEE, ROBERT W. WEIR, STEPHEN H. TYNG, L. BRADISH, JOHN BROWN, WILLIAM L. JOHNSON. The Preamble and Resolutions were unanimously adopted. Attested, Benj. I. Haigiit, D.D., Acting Secretary." At Haverstraw, where he last officiated, in the Church, which has since been erected, a beautiful Memorial Window has been put up, by the united offerings of Churchmen, in different parts of the Diocese. It consists of three bays, with tracery, above. Tlie central light is tilled w^ith a figure of our blessed Lord. The side-lights are filled wath the figures of angels, bearing shields, inscribed with emblems of the Passion. Above, are figures of angels, bearing the text, " Blessed are the dead, who die in the Lord ; for they rest from their labors." Beneath the figure of our Lord, is the Pelican, in her piety. Beneath the angel figures, are to be, on one side, the emblem of the Episcopal office, with the w^ords, " Well done, good and faithful servant : " on the other, the Crown, with the words, " Enter, thou, into the joy of thy Lord." These were his last memorable words, in public. Along the whole foot of the window, is the follow- ing inscription : "To the glory of God, in memory of Jona- than Mayhew Wainwright, late Provisional Bishop of New- York ; whose last public services were offered here, on the eleventh Sunday after Trinity, a. d., mucccliv." Another monument is, now, in progress, in hands, that will not let it fail : " The Ladies' Memorial of Bishop Wainwkight ; a Church, with seats, peqDetually free." Lots, in the city of New York, have been procured, in the midst MEMOIR. 79 of a dense population ; many of them, emigrants from Eng- land. Tlie subscription, for its erection, is in progress. The good Lord graciously prosper it ! "What other monument could be so fit ? By it, he, being dead, shall always speak. Speak, in that j^reaching of the Gospel, to the poor, in which his soul delighted. Speak, in those ministrations, to the sick, and the afflicted, for which his foot w^as ever free, his hand was ever full. Speak, in the care and training of the little children, who loved to climb about his knees ; and to whom his dying labors were devoted. Beautiful enterprise of female charity and piety ! Like those holy women, w^ho were at the sepulchre, before the day, with fragrant sj^ices, to embalm the body of their Lord. To the SKETCH, IN OUTLINE, of my dear, dead, friend, which I have thus drawn, with more of will, than skill, I shall ap- pend, to make it precious, a mosaic, of the memories of love ; contributed, by some, who almost always knew him ; and who, from different points of view, have seen the same sur- passing beauty, and felt the same invincible attraction. Public, as his whole life w^as, and eminent, as he was, in public life. Bishop "Wainwright was happiest and most beau- tiful, in his home. He was an apt illustration of that sweet- est thought, of Wordsworth, of the sky-lark : '' Type of the wise ; who soar, but, never, roam : " True, to the kindred points, of Heaven and Home." As a son, none was ever kinder, more affectionate or more respectful. A more loving brother never lived. J^or a more tender, indulgent, confiding and devoted, husband. His wife w^as the almoner of his charities, his counsellor, his comforter. As a father, he was most affectionate and gentle ; living with his children, on terms of gracious equality ; and controlling them with love, rather than by authority. He counted no sacrifice, on his part, too great, that could promote their 80 IVIEMOIE. comfort and advantage. They loved him tenderly ; and mourn him sincerely. Of the fourteen, that were given to him in his happy married life, of six and thirty years, six waited for him, in Paradise. The latest of them, that was taken home, was a son, just opening into manhood ; and bright, wdth every promise. It may be doubted, if the father ever quite recovered, from the wound of tliis bereavement : though he never, for a moment, murmured. lie was a per- fect gentleman. His urbanity of manner, never was sur- passed. The law of kindness was ever on his lips. No grace or courtesy was ever wanting, to his daily life. In his man- ners, in his habits, in his bearing, in the expression of his countenance, in the tones of his voice, in the propriety of his dress, in his whole carriage and appearance, there was that which would have commended him at court, and made him welcome, in a cottage. As a Christian, he was meek, modest, and retiring. Yery seldom, did he ever open, to human ear, the deep utterances of his devotion. His conversation was always enlightened, elegant, instructive, and improving. But, it was not his way, to talk religion. He, rather, did it. No one ever heard a harsh word, from him. No one ever heard a word, against the absent. No one ever lieard a breath of scandal, or of calumny. He never turned his face, from any poor man. His charity and piety were uniform and unfailing, as they were unaffected and unostentatious. Deep and sincere humility was the foundation of his religious character. And this was more than ever apparent, after his consecration, as Bishop. The key-note of his feelings, in con- nection with this most tremendous trust, was in those touch- ing words of the Institution service : " I am not worthy, that Thou shouldst come under my roof; yet Tliou hast honored Thy servant, with appointing him, to stand in Thy House, and to serve at Thy holy Altar." To that service, he did, in- deed, "devote" himself; "soul, body and spirit, with all MEMOIR. 81 their jjowcrs and faculties." Pie felt himself, the humblest instrument, in the hand of God : and humbly trusted to do something, for His glory, in the good of souls. These feel ings increased in him, to the very last. They made him, "instant, in season, and out of season." They made him, " steadfast, unmovable, always abounding, in the work of the Lord." They bowed him beneath an earlier Cross. They won for him an earlier crown. A marked j)hase of Bishop Wainwright's character was its TJNivEESALNESs. He was always eminent, as a preacher. His sermons were always excellent. His was uniformly the winning eloquence of persuasion. It might be thought, that some of Plato's swarm had lighted, on his lips. And, yet, how many other things he did ; and did them, well ! How many lectures, on different subjects ! How many pub- lic services to art, to science, to letters, to beneficence ! So, in his pastoral duties, he was devoted and exemplary. He never seemed to lose sight, even, of the youngest lamb. A letter, of his, written, while in Boston7 to a young lady, wlio had been his catechumen in Grace Church, JSTew York, on occasion of her receiving her first communion, in which, the wisest counsels were imparted, with the most touching ten- derness, illustrates this. And, when he had attended the last moments of Mrs. "Webster, the sketch, which he made, of the aftecting scene, was acknowledged, by the illustrious statesman, in a letter, which poured out the profoundest depths of his great heart. His information was most various and extensive ; and, always, accurate. Tliere were very few subjects, which he could not enlighten. And, yet, how little time he seemed to have, to study, or to read. The secret lay — it is accessible, to all — ^in early rising, constant occupation, and strict method. It was only, in this way, that he could have maintained his vast correspondence. It was only, thus, that he could alwaj^s have the time to be courteous and hos- 6 82 MEMOIE. pitable, to liis guests ; to do a service, for a friend ; or to exe- cute tlie dictates of his universal cliarity. It is astonishing, how variously he was employed. And, from what various sources. If an organ was desired, for a country parish — I speak, now, of the whole period of his ministry — he was to look it up. If plans and estimates, for a new Church were in hand, he was to be consulted. A colonial Bishop writes, to secure his interest in a young lady, unfortunately married, who liad come, to try her fortune, in New York. A young man, in a British Province, had left his home, unhappily ; and his influence to find and to reclaim him, was invoked. Mrs. Heber's Memoir of the Bishop is to be re-printed, in this country ; and he takes the charge of it. An English Arch- deacon writes to him about an unfortunate man, who has come to America, and left his family ; and he hunts him up, and makes such report of him, that funds are raised, in Lon- don, to send them out, to him. Miss Jane Porter writes him a long and most agreeable letter. Its first point is, to inter- est him in two young mechanics, who have sailed, for New York. The munificent patron of the expedition, in search of Sir John Franklin, at the instance of the noble navigator, who twice encountered the perils of tlie Pole, on a high errand of humanity, requests of him a form of prayer, for daily use, on board the ships ; and he supplies it. And, when the American Exhibition of the Arts and Sciences, is to be opened in the city of New York, to all the world, he is to inaugurate it, with his prayers and benediction. Tliis is a scantling, only, of the illustrations of his universalness. But, it will sustain the point. How such a man was missed, from among the hearths of human kind ! How many will rise up, " at that day ; " and call him, blessed ! One, who was much with him, while a student of theol- ogy in Boston, the Eev, Dr. Burrouglis, whose skill, in the discernment of character, is only surpassed, by his most MEMOIE. 83 genial appreciation of tlio beautiful and good in it, thus writes, of him, as he appeared, at that time. " We all ac- knowledged his talents, knowledge, affability, graciousness, colloquial powers. His large promise of eminence was strik- ingly realized, in his future life, which was ever graced with sound learning, unimpeachable integrity, dignity of charac- ter, courtesy of manner, diligence in duty, warm devotion to the Church. There was in him a singular combination of the great and good ; the bold and the prudent ; the firm and the gentle ; the tone of authority and the law of kindness. Few ever equalled him, in the propriety, expressiveness and solem- nity, with which he read our Liturgy. Few ever excelled him, in the simplicity, force and elegance of his style, or in the eloquence, with which he delivered his discourses. He was an admirable model of pulpit oratory. His aff'ections were generous and sincere: and 'he grappled his friends, to his soul, with hooks of steel.'" The Honorable Willard Phillips, of Boston, who knew him well, from 1809, when he was but seventeen years old, has sketched him, from the life, as follows. " Bishop AVain- wriglit, from his early manhood, was distinguished for mag nanimity and generosity of disposition. His frankness and tolerant good-heartedness, signilied, by his look and tones of voice, and plainly manifested in his cordial, free, well-bred, manner, won regard, at first sight ; which was certain to grow, into attachment, on acquaintance. He was benevo- lent, in the fullest significance of the term : his interest, in the well-being of others, not being limited to their social po- sition, sect, or race. He was disposed to think no evil : and always put a charitable construction upon the conduct of oth- ers ; even where his own pretensions seemed to be in compe- tition : and his beneficence and kind offices seemed to flow out, naturally, from an abundant fountain of goodness. His aspirations for eminence never excited in him animosity, bit- 84 MEMOIR. terness, envy, or hardness, towards others. His philanthropy did not prompt him, as it sometimes does well-meaning per- sons, to officious and ov^er earnest solicitations of others, to co-operate with him, in, what he thought good works. He had a quick j^erception of propriety, and sense of what was suitable and seemly, in the very great variety of situations and relations, in which he was placed ; as well, out of his professional career, as within it : and, what was akin to this faculty, he had a lively feeling of the beautiful and admira- ble, in men and things. He was, accordingly, an appreciat- ing admirer of excellence, in the fine arts ; and felt himself to be at ease, and in sympathy, and harmony, with excelling artists : and the more so, as much in his own public perform- ances was, in some material respects, subject to, what Cicero denominates, the eomfnune vinculum, with them. I well re- member, that, on his introducing me to Gilbert Stuart, the celebrated portrait painter, at the rooms of the latter, about 1809, he was intimately familiar with that artist. Some twenty years after, during my visit to him, in Xew York, I found him retaining the same tastes, and cultivating similar associations, when he took me to Col. Trumbull's rooms, to show me the original portrait of Washington, by that artist ; with whom he was evidently on a familiar footing. He had, also, an ardent, appreciating, fondness for music, of which he had considerable scientific knowledge ; and, in which, he was not without some artistic skill, on the Piano, and the Welsh Harj) : on each of which, he was in the habit of prac- tising. He, probably, had some agreeable juvenile reminis- cences of the Harp. He turned these accomplishments to practical account, in bringing together excellent vocal per- formers, in the choirs, and procuring skilful organists, in the different Churches, with which he was successively associ- ated. Tliese, he never failed to inspire with his own alacrity and enthusiasm. He, also, made his well-known and highly MEMOIK. 85 estimated selection of music, adapted to the service of the Episcopal Church. His attention was early given to the cul- tivation of the art of elocution ; of which he w^as appointed College Instructor, soon after taking his degree : and which, as is well known, he ever after continued to cultivate, with unremitting assiduity, and with eminent success. Nor, was his attention given to delivery, merely. For, he never ceased, to study, with vigilant and discriminating diligence, the force, the proprieties, and the beauties, of the English language. It was a distinguishing characteristic of Bishop "Wainwright, from his youth, and one of the causes of his general popular- ity, that he was more tolerant and indulgent, to the medioc- rity of others, with whom he came into communication, in the accomplishments and attainments, in which he, himself, excelled, than persons, eminent, in any way, are wont to he. He was, esj^ecially, always, ready to cheer on, and bring, into notice, merit, of whatever kind ; without, at the same time, the least air of condescension, or patronage ; seeming to be influenced by the satisfaction, he took, in rendering, to worth, its due." The distinguished historian, Mr. Prescott, thus testifies of his great and varied excellence. " I am ver}- glad to hear, from you, that you propose to publish a volume of your ex- cellent husband's discourses ; accompanied by a biographical sketch of him. Both will have a good influence, on the com- munity. For his life was the illustration of his doctrines." " I had the good fortune to know him, from a very early pe- riod. For, we were at Cambridge, together. Tliough, as he was, two years, my senior, I saw but little of him, at the University. But, at this early period, the peculiar features of his character were already formed : and he gained the hearts of all, who approached him, by the kindliness of his manner ; and, by that genial, expansive, nature, which ap- peals, to the sensibilities of the young, more powerfully, even, 86 MEMOIR. than in later life. During the interval, which occurred be- tween your husband's leaving Boston, and his return, to it, to fill the situation of Rector of Trinity Church, I saw but little of him. But, on his return, I had the good fortune, as you know, to listen to his preaching. It is no disparagement to the able men, who have filled that j)ulpit, to say, that there was not one of them, who performed his clerical functions with greater zeal or ability. He had many of the highest qualifications of a preacher. Independently of the classical finish, which he gave to his discourses, and the practical good sense, which pervaded them, they were penetrated with a sj)irit of Christian philanthropy, which came, spontaneously, from the inmost depths of his soul. It was by love, and not by fear, that he would lead his hearers, along the path of duty. It was the principle of love, in its largest sense, which was most deeply seated in his nature. It showed itself, in that comprehensive charity, which is the life of the Gospel. While, his own opinions, in religious matters, were too firmly settled, to be shaken, he had entire toleration, for a difierence of opinion, in others. While, his own principles were founded on a rock, he had the greatest tenderness, for the frailties of others. Not only, did he give an example of virtue, in his own life ; but, he presented virtue in such a sweet, engaging, aspect, that it won the hearts of his hearers. With the ready sympathy of his nature, he was in the most intimate rela- tions, with those, whose habitual reserve, made them more difficult of access. Never have I known a minister, who ac- quired a wider influence, over his people ; or who took a stronger hold of their affections. All, who enjoyed the ben- efits of his ministry, here, will bear testimony to the truth of this. It was natural, that he should obtain such an influence, over those, who saw the conscientiousness, with which he de- voted himself to the holy cause, to which he was pledged. This, indeed, was the idea, which seemed to fill his whole MEMOIR. 87 soul, to color all his tlionglits, and to control his actions. Not only his severer studies, but his lighter accomplishments, which serve, with most men, simplj to gratify their tastes, were made subservient, in some way or other, to his profes- sional calling. His love of music was an example of this. Trinity Church will long have occasion to remember the im- portant benefit, rendered to it, in this department. But, why should I speak of his devotion, to his professional duties ; when it was his unremitting efibrts, in their performance, that cost him his life ? And, greater love can no man show, for a cause, than to lay dowai his life, for it." "The theme is one, on which, I love to linger. And, as I think of the friend, that is gone, my mind is filled with the sweet, though sad, remembrances of the past. I need hardly tell you, there are many, here, the friends of his early days, who can never cease to cherish the warmest recollection of his virtues. Tliis recollection is the most precious legacy, to you, and for us all." But, two more bits, to our Mosaic. In his funeral Sermon, Dr. Higbee, so long his intimate associate and friend, thus testifies, of the hapj^y blending, that w^as in him, of the social nature, and the pastoral responsibility. " True, he was known, as a social man, kind, and cheerful, and genial, to the friends, who delighted to gather round him, in his hospitable home, and elsewhere : and this often led to a mistake of his character and of his habits, on the part of strangers to him ; for in the social hour, he did not disfigure his face, that he might appear unto men, to fast. He did not ostentatiously detail, to every social circle, the varied weary labors of the preceding and of the succeeding, hours : the punctual dis- charge of every public duty ; the rising, to toil, before the dawn ; the midnight vigils, of business, of study and of devo- tion ; the intervening visits, in sunshine and in storm, far and neai", through the streets and lanes of the city, to the cellars 88 MEMOIR. and garrets of poverty, misery, sickness, and death. His nearest friends and associates, together with tlie objects of his care, alone knew this. They alone knew the thorough- ness, with which he made the duties of his ministry, the busi- ness and the j^leasure of his life." On the Sunday following his burial, the Eev. Dr. Berrian, Kector of Trinity Church, delivered an aj^propriate sermon. On the 8th of December, 1819, he had written, to Mr. "VVain- wright, just elected, an Assistant Minister of Trinity Church, ISTew York, " Permit me to tell you, in great sincerity, how much I am rejoiced at your appointment, among us. The very transient intimacy, with you, only created prepossessions, which have been strengthened, by all that I have heard, from your friends and acquaintances." Who can more fitly close this record, than the associate of five and thirty years ; and, in what more fitting words, can it be closed, than these ? " He made the faithful and laborious discharge of the duties of life, an habitual preparation, for the hour of his departure, and his final release from his labors and troubles. It was a peculiarity of his character, from the beginning, to the close, of his ministry, that, with all his fondness for society, for matters of taste, for literary pursuits, and intellectual enjoy- ments, he never lost sight of the higher duties of his sacred ofiice ; but continued to reconcile the faithful discharge of them, with all his other pursuits and employments. He was a man of unwearied industry, borrowing, from the night, whatever was lost in the day ; ready, at all times, for any emergency ; systematic in his studies, and persevering in his aims. It may be well supposed, that, with a mind, so con- stituted, and with such fixed and laborious habits, he could scarcely fail, under the grace and blessing of God, to have made himself useful, in his generation ; and, after a well- spent life, to have been ready for his departure. But, alas, however happy, for him, that his anxieties have ceased, that MEMOIE. 89 his labors are ended, his imniortality put on, his crown of righteousness attained, we must regard it, as a general ca- lamity, and a heavy affliction, to ourselves. Tlie bland and courteous manner, the mild virtues and Christian graces, the unwillingness to offend, the desire to please, and all the gentler traits, for which, he was so distinguished, peculiarly fitted him, for the troublous times, and perplexing circum- stances, in which the Diocese was found ; composing the agitation, and softening the asperity of men's minds, and restoring it, in a measure, to harmony and peace. The stern and inflexible character, the prompt and decided course, the firmness of resolve, the tenacity of purpose, and unbending will, which, at once, command our admiration and fear, it was thought, by many, were not so w' ell suited to the actual condition of things, as the engaging qualities and peaceful administration, which would heal dissensions, and conciliate love and esteem. But, besides these qualities of our de- parted friend, he had many other qualifications and gifts, to give weight to his office, and effect to his labors. With a mind, highly cultivated, from his very youth, which was con- stantly improved, till he had reached old age, a delicate and refined taste, a chaste and classical style, but, yet, simple and perspicuous, with all its polish, a clear and methodical arrangement of his thoughts, and lucid treatment of his sub- ject, which made him always intelligible to the plainest un- derstanding, as well as pleasing, to the most intellectual and refined, it is no matter of wonder, that he attained, at a very early age, great popularity, as a preacher ; wdiich he steadily preserved, to the day of his death. Tlie charm of his dis- courses was very much heightened, also, by a clear and flexible voice, which he could exert, to almost any extent, without the appearance of effort, an easy and graceful elocu- tion, entire self-command and self-j)ossession, a critical ac- quaintance with all the rules of art, and a nice observance 90 MEMOIR. of them, both in his reading and delivery : and to all this was added an imposing personal appearance, which gave dignity and effect to all the duties of his office. From this rare com- bination of gifts and graces, he adorned, in an eminent degree, his high and holy office ; and, from his untiring labors, carried, alas, beyond mortal strength and endurance, accomplished more, in the short period he exercised it, than is done, by ordinary men, in many years." What was jDroposed is done : the sketch, m outline ; with the pendant, of Mosaic Memokies. From hands, so various ; from points of view, so different ; in such diverse lights : how wonderful the perfect harmony ! And, the re- sult, how beautiful : childlike simplicity ; womanly tender- ness ; heroic endurance ; unbounded charity ; a saint's de- votedness ; the self-sacrifice of a martyr : in his life, how engaging ; in his death, how impressive ; how blessed, in his immortality ! " Who would not drop tliis load of clay ; And die, to see Thy face ? " G. W. DOANE. KiVEESiDE, February 11, 1856. SERMONS. THE POSITION AND PROSPECTS OE THE CHURCH OE ENGLAND.* Psalm xlviii. 12, 13. Walk about Zion, and go round about her ; tell the towers thereof. Mark ye well her bulwarks, consider her palaces ; that ye may tell it to the generation following. The Church iii these United States has ever felt, and will continue to cherish a deep and affectionate in- terest in the well-being of the Church of England. I do not mean by this title the Church as by law estab- hshed, but as constituting a branch of the one Catholic and Apostolic Church, which the civil power has adopt- * A meeting of ten of the Bishops of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States was held in New York, April 29th, 1852, to take into consideration a resolution of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, transmitted by the Archbishop of Canterbury, inviting a delegation of two or more of the Bishops of the Church in America to be present at, and take part in, the concluding services of the Society's Jubilee Year, ending June 15th, 1852. Bishops McCoskry and Delancey Avere named by the 94 THE POSITION AND PROSPECTS OF ed, and for its own purposes and its own security has made the State religion, but which in its Divine Con- stitution has rights and powers which no authority of man could confer, and therefore which no merely civil power can justly control. Regarded as a State Church alone, but little sympathy could be awakened amongst us for the Church of England ; but when we look upon her as the chief branch of the Protestant and reformed Church of Christ on earth, we hold her in great love and veneration. At that name a thousand ancient and holy associations are quickened. We recur to the preface to our Book of Common Prayer, that dearest treasure which we possess next to God's Holy Word, and there read what our forefathers have grate- fully recorded, that "to her we are indebted under God for our first foundation, and a long continuance of nursing care and protection." That treasure, too, gathered up and stored from the earliest times, and refined by her wisdom, zeal, and piety, from the dross of superstition that had been mixed with it, she con- veyed to us, and we offer up our daily worship and celebrate the sacraments of our Lord's institution in the same spirit and intention, and with few exceptions Bishops present as suitable representatives in the Church's belialf ; hut it being uncertain whether they could undertake this mission, the Kev. Dr. Wainwright, Secretary of the House of Bishops, was requested by the Bishops met in New York, to convey a copy of their proceedings to the Archbishop of Canterbury, the President of the Venerable Society. Dr. Wainwright acceded to the request, and was present at the jubilee ser- vices. The present sermon was preached by him soon after his return to the United States in 1852. THE CHUECH OF ENGLAND. 95 in tlie self-same words with her. Our Priesthood, too, is hers, and it is through her we trace up our Episco- pal succession in continuous line, even to those twelve to whom the Head of the Church gave the great com- mission when he ascended up on high. Thus then are we bound in all filial duty to respect and love her, be- cause we have manifold proof that as a mother she has loved and fostered us. I can bear witness, that what was affection alone towards us in our feeble infancy, has become largely mingled with another sentiment, and that she now entertains for us a sincere respect, and would henceforth embrace us upon equal terms as a sister beloved. Assured, then,- of the mutual and holy affection that subsists between us, I cannot doubt of the interest which you, my brethren, as members of the one Church, will take, in hearing somewhat concerning the present condition and future prospects of her who, once your mother, now places herself in relation to you as an el- der sister. Nor can I doubt of the propriety of giving your thoughts and meditations such a direction even in this sacred place, and upon this sacred day. The sights upon which my eyes have so recently dwelt in delightful admiration amongst sacred edifices, beautiful, august, and venerable, and which can never fade from my memory; the solemn services of prayers and chants and anthems, to which their arches day by day and twice a day resound, and which yet seem to ring within my ears and lift my soul above ; the memory of frequent and fervent interchange of thought with 96 TIIE POSITIOJS^ AISTD PROSPECTS OF brettren beloved in the Lord, and the topics of con- versation ever foremost in our intercourse, the Church of God, her dangers and defences, " her welfare and her woe ; " — all this has concentrated my attention upon a subject which seems to me to find a not inap- propriate expression in the insjou-ed words of the Psalmist: — "Walk about Zion, and go round about her ; tell the towers thereof. Mark ye well her bul- warks, consider her palaces ; that ye may tell it to the generations following." Zion is the Church of God. The towers, bulwarks, and palaces of Zion, are the doctrines, ministry, sac- raments, and ordinances of the Church, and the insti- tutions by which they are sustained, protected, and perpetuated. It has been my high privilege and my grateful employment, for a brief space of time to walk near, if not round about, one chief section of Zion ; and I have endeavored, according to the ability which God has given me, to tell her towers, to mark well her bul- warks, and consider her palaces ; and I would tell it to this generation, that they are many and strong, and are defended by faithful hands and courageous hearts. She is indeed beleaguered by subtle and persevering foes without, and may possibly yet have traitors, and has doubtless lukewarm friends within. Still my own conviction authorizes me to adopt and apply to her some further portions of the Psalmist's words : — " Beau- tiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is Mount Zion. God is known in her palaces for a refuge. As THE CHTJECH OF ENGLAND. 97 we have lieard so liave we seen in the city of the Lord of Hosts, in the city of our God ; God will establish it for ever." Some of the grounds of this con^^ction, as gathered during my recent visit, I cannot doubt that you will feel interested to hear. I need not explain to you the occasion of that \dsit, as it is well understood by all who take a special in- terest in the movements of the Church. I may say, however, that it gave me opportunities for observa- tion, and for deriving information from the most au- thentic sources, that were peculiarly favorable. And in this connection, I am bound in common gratitude to declare, that my reception was all that warm friend- ship or brotherly love even could have promj^ted. From the moment in which I set my foot upon the shores of that friendly island, where the Church of Christ maintains one of its chiefest and most impor- tant seats, until that in which I embarked for my own beloved home, I received abundant and unintermitted proof of the affection and respect which the Church- men of England entertain for the Church in these United States. For I could not approj^riate to myself, in my individual capacity, the attentions I received from such numerous and distinguished sources ; — I felt that they were extended to me chiefly as holding in some sort a representative character. I was, indeed, but the bearer of a friendly message from a number of our Bishops, not assembled as the House of Bishops, but acting each one upon his individual responsibility, in answer to an invitation, not from the Church of 7 98 TITE POSITION AND PEOSPECTS OF England, but from members of that Cliurcli formed into a Society within its pale. Thus, then, while upon this occasion there could be no intercommunication between the two Churches in their corporate capacity, it afforded clear and decided evidence of the yearning of faithful hearts on both sides of the wide ocean that separates us, for that union, communion, and co-opera- tion, which we trust in Grod to see once again restored to the Church of Christ ; when " the multitude of those that believe shall be of one heart and one soul. " My position was, in many respects, a most gratify- ing one, for it brought me into friendly and frequent intercourse with Bishops, Presbyters, and Laymen of the Church, whose names I had long been accustomed to reverence ; from the able works of many of whom upon Christian doctrine and the princij^les of the Church, I had received much instruction; and from personal intercourse with whom I anticipated a large amount of information and of social gratification. But I soon felt it to be a position of anxious responsibiHty ; and when appointments to preach upon important oc- casions and to large assemblies of the most distinguished members of the Church were urged upon me, I well- nigh shrunk from an undertaking which I felt myself so httle qualified to discharge in a satisfactory manner. When, therefore, I was informed by letters from the Bishop of Michigan, that arrangements had been made by which he, with his associate the Bishop of Western New York, could fulfil their mission to England with- out neglecting an important duty that seemed at first THE CHURCH OF ENGLAISTD. 99 to present an insurmountable obstacle to tbeir leaving Lome, I experienced an inexpressible relief, and witli joyful haste I communicated tlie intelligence to tlie Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of London, and others who had taken a prominent part in the occasion of our visit. It would be difficult for me to express to you in words sufficiently strong, my sense of the importance of this ^dsit of our Bishops. The presence of no Presley ter, and no number of Presbyters, whatever their qualifica- tions might have been, would have proved a su])stitute for it. More especially upon the occasion of that glo- rious celebration in Westminster Abbey, when the spacious aisles were filled with a great assemblage of the faithful from the four quarters of the world, and in that ancient chancel were gathered Bishops of the reformed faith from England, Ireland, and Scotland, and from far distant missionary dioceses North and South, and East and West, would it not have been a lamentable deficiency had there been no Bishops of the American Church present? Should not we of that Church have ever felt a deep regret, and the Prelates of the Church who presided over the august solemnity, and the zealous members of the Venerable Society who had arranged it, would they not with one voice have said that something was wanting to their joy? But now we can all look back upon it with the liveliest satisfaction, and our hearts should overflow with grat- itude to God, who so ordered it by the overruling of his Divine Providence, that the Church in America, 100 THE POSITIOTf AND PROSPECTS OF whose spiritual destitution first suggested the forma- tion of tlie Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, should be represented, and should have the privilege of taking an appropriate share in the offering of Praise and Thanksgiving upon the clos- ing of the Jubilee Yeak. Would, my brethren, that you could have been present upon that auspicious day, or would that I had the graphic power to paint what then took place to your imaginations. But if one would hesitate to at- tempt the description of that majestic temple, and tell the emotions that filled his soul, as its towers, buttresses and pinnacles first rose upon his sight ; and how he was subdued, and well nigh prostrated, by an over- powering awe, as he entered within, and looked upon its many clustered columns shooting heavenward, and lightly bearing up its groined and massive roof, re- treating arch beyond arch in graceful lines, and stretch- ing far away till almost lost to view ; and how as he slowly paced the long drawn aisles, and gazed upon the storied windows and walls that speak to the passers by at every step, from lifelike statue or monumental rec- ord, the si)irits of England's mighty dead seemed roused from their sleep of centuries, and to gather thick around him ; if he would falter in this attempt, how could he dare venture upon that scene when this time-honored temple, — choir, and nave, and aisles, — was filled to its utmost capacity with a devout, expectant crowd, silent and prayerful ; and as the majestic organ in signal of the opening of the solemnities, pealed its trumpet notes THE CHURCH OF ENGLAIfD. 101 throngli tlie eclioing arches, tliey all arose, and the long procession of white-robed choristers and snrpliced priests opened the way for the fathers of the Church, who, habited in their grave bnt comely robes of silk and lawn, ascended the steps of the ancient chancel, and knelt as a loving brotherhood around a common altar ; and then there came in due order the solemn service, with the loud response of voices like the sound of many waters ; and the inspiring chant and full- voiced anthem ; the eloquent words of godly admoni- tion and encouragement from one of the chief of Eng- land's prelates ; and to crown the festal joy, the sacred table spread with the symbols of a Saviour's dying love, round which were standing hundreds meekly waiting their time to draw near, and other hundreds returning from the feast, their faces beaming with joy and love ; — who could describe all this in words that could approach the sublimity of the scene ? It seems to me as if it can only be faintly imagined by those to whom the privilege of having witnessed it has not been granted. But, my brethren, the meaning and the tendency of this gathering from distant regions, of Prelates, Priests and Laymen, and of the glorious service at which they assisted with one consent, as though it had been the offering of heart and voice from one mighty man, can be understood and felt by you who were not present, as well as by those who were. You can un- derstand and feel, and the whole of Christendom will understand and feel, how the Church of England spoke 102 THE POSITION AND PKOSPECTS OF ont tlirougli tlie only organ by which she can now give utterance to her longings, and proclaimed her ardent desire for the restoration of that unity which shall be at once the strongest proof that the Church Catholic truly subsists in the reformed portion of it, and the clearest manifestation of her possessing that grace, and exercising that power which shall effectually help on the great and good design. These longings we also have deeply felt, and to this loving call, we, as we were best able at the time, have responded. In order, however, that you may the better com- prehend the full import of the jubilee celebration, and be convinced that in it and through it the heart of the Church of England swelled and warmed towards us and all the flock of Christ wherever dispersed, I will for a moment recur to it. That celebration took place upon the conclusion of the third half century of the existence of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts. The Society was established in a time of great and pressing need, when there was a loud call for missionary labors in the distant depend- encies of England, and es23ecially in these United States, which were then feeble colonies. The sad spiritual destitution of their brethren excited an ear- nest wish amongst the devout members of the Church of England, that some means should be provided for its remedy. But the Church, as a Church, could do nothing; — she was in shackles, bound to the State. Every possible exertion was made to rouse the civil government to a sense of its obligation to provide for THE CHUECn OF ENGLAND. 103 tlie welfare and extension of tlie Churcli, inasmncli as it liad undertaken to control the action of the Church. Faithful missionaries here, and zealous members of the Church at home, plead at the foot of the throne, and earnestly petitioned the Parliament ; but all in vain, for a narrow, selfish, ungodly, worldly policy, prevailed. The interests of the Church being thus neglected by the State, which turned a deaf ear to the cry of her famishino; children, it was time for the individual effort of the faithful to make itself felt. It did so, and the Great Head of the Church blessed and prospered the movement which produced a voluntary association, to which, after a while, a chartered existence was given, under the significant name which the Society bears. Now this Society was to us an affectionate, nursing mother, up to the very period when our independence as a nation was proclaimed ; and every where through- out the original States of the confederation, may be found the evidences of her fostering care. She was to us the Church of England. We were not nurtured and tended by the State. The State neglected us, despised our entreaties, and would have left us to per- ish in our infant strugglings. In some quarters we have been reproached as being the offspring of the State, and thence an odium has attached to us. But this is not just. To the Church as alUed to the State, are we under no obligations ; and to such a Church are we drawn by no fond associations of being once connected with her. Even the Episcopacy, which a spiritual and independent Church would not only joy- 104 THE POSITIOTf AND PROSPECTS OF fully have given us at our first entreaty, or ratlier of her own accord and out of the fulness of her charity, would have sent to us ere we felt our want, she tardily and ungraciously yielded to us ; and then gave it bound in with degrading and uncatholic conditions, which are yet but partially removed. When, therefore, in the Preface to the Book of Common Prayer, to which I have before alluded, we read that to the Church of England, the Protestant Episcopal Church in these United States is indebted, under God, for her iirst foundation, and a long continuance of nursing care and protection; — it is not, again I emphatically say, the Church as by law estal^lished, but the Church as a branch of the one Catholic and Apostolic Church,* * The Church of England has been thus characterized by one of her own distinguished prelates : " We recognize in her a Church scriptural in doc- trine, Apostolic in constitution and form ; a Church appealing to the written Word of God as the sole standard of truth ; but in its interpreta- tion not despising or neglecting the witness of Catholic antiquity ; but rather thankfully accepting its guidance, and humbly deferring to it ; a Church which has neither added to the sacraments ordained of Christ, nor diminished aught therefrom, nor has lost or impaired that ordinance of a threefold ministry, to which those sacraments were intrusted from the tirst ; a Church treasuring in its Liturgy the express image of ancient and catholic piety, and embodying the spirit of the same, even when it nas given it a new outward mould and form ; a Church in its articles vindicating God's truth from the corruptions wherewith it had been overlaid, and giving its members a scriptural rule whereby to walk ; a Church Avhose title to our reverence is not that it is established by the State ; — though for its usefulness we prize this union, and trust ever to maintain it,— but which claims o.ur loving obedience, as being the true Church of Christ, tracing back its origin to the Apostles of our Lord, and deriving its spiritual rights and powers from no human ordinance, but from the Head and fountain of spiritual life and light." TIIE CHURCH OF EIS^GLAND. 105 who iu her straitened condition, as a bondwoman, lias been compelled to avail herself of auxiliary help in carrying out the purposes of her institution. The chief of these auxiliaries in age, efficiency, and the maintenance of sound, consistent principles of Church polity, are the Society for Promoting Christian Know- ledge, and the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts. Now as regards these and other kindred societies, it is well that the true principle of their foundation, in connection with the Church, should be understood, and with this view I shall quote for your information a passage from a work of one of the living lights of the Church of England. " Were the Catholic Church in a sound and united state, able to discharge all her duties, such combina- tions would be unnecessary ; and being unnecessary they would be hurtful, as dividing and dispersing those energies, to which she has the sole and entire right. For the idea of the Catholic Church is all that in one, which we imperfectly endeavor to shape out by our in- numerable and partial, and therefore most unsatisfac- tory, combinations. The Church is a Society for j^romot- ing Christian knowledge ; for propagating the Gospel in foreign parts ; for building churches ; for educating the poor ; and for whatever other purpose would con- duce to the being of God's Kingdom where as yet it is not, and its well-being where it is. She has her Eucharistical sacrifice of alms, to provide the funds for all those, and all other holy and bountiful j^urposes ; 106 THE POSITIOlSr AND PKOSPECTS OF slie has her Bishops to be stewards, responsible receiv- ers of those funds, and her Deacons to assist in the labor of keeping and disbursing them. She is present at once in all nations, keeping up among all her mem- bers that full unreserved communication which may best enable her to distribute her treasures, so that the abundance of one portion shall be a supply for the want of another. Finally, above all, she is a Society divinely instituted for these very purposes ; whereas these, our modern charities, however good and useful, are but inventions of men." The same learned author goes on to say, in defence of this view of the nature and design of the Christian Church : " Nor am I merely sj)eaking here of the theory or idea of the Church as of some Utopian or Platonic Commonwealth. Those who know any thing of Christian antiquity, know that for many hundred years it actually corresponded to this description." Such indeed is the true idea of the Church, and it should be the constant prayer and effort of every faith- ful follower of Christ every where, that she may be able to resume her pristine power and influence, and thus scatter her peaceful blessings amongst the dis- tracted and divided sons of men, and bring them once more to act together in unity of faith and love. In that day shall this song be sung in the land of Judah : " We have a strong city. Salvation will God appoint for walls and bulwarks." Then will Zion be indeed a strong city ; and those who go about her to tell her towers, to mark her bulwarks, and consider her palaces, THE CHUECH OF ENGLAND. 107 will not liave to mourn over breaches tliat need repair, and deficiencies that require supply. But if we have cause to lament, that much needs be done to restore the Church to this powerful and prosperous state, we have more cause to rejoice at the abundant manifesta- tions that the sons of the Church are beginning to be in earnest in taking hold of the work they have to perform. It is because it comes in strong proof of this asser- tion, that I look back upon the recent jubilee celebra- tion with such deep satisfaction, and would persuade you to look upon it not as a solemn pageant that has passed away, and to be contemplated with a transient interest, or to be entii^ely forgotten. Not so : it estab- lished an influence that will be permanent and growing. It was a bright and blessed day, that will be prolific of many brighter and more blessed days that are to follow. It was a manifestation of the strusrsfling^s of the inner life of the Church for fuller developments and wider action. It was a gushing up of the sap in the true vine which shall make it blossom, and bring forth beautiful clusters, which shall swell to maturity and ripen in the beams of the Sun of Righteousness. And this because it was the workino- of the Church of England in the only way in which she was at liberty to work towards the restoration of unity in the Church Catholic. As you have seen, she could not act in her spiritual relations as an independent Church, holding communion with independent churches united in a common Head. 108 THE POSITION AND PROSPECTS OF eveu Christ Jesus. She is so trammelled hj the State alliance in which she is held, that she could only have invited us to join her by the State and through the State. Such an invitation would have been mysterious language to us, nor do I see how we could have con- sistently accepted it. But coming as it did, it was free from all objection. It was the voice of love from brethren asking the sympathy of distant brethren, and in the spirit of love it was responded to. And from all that took place upon that auspicious occasion, we are convinced that a vast step was then taken towards the accomplishment of a mighty end, the restoration of a visible unity to Christ's Church throughout the world. Was it not symbolized in the gathering to- gether of Bishops from every quarter of the globe, who united their voices in the same prayers, praises, and thanksgivings, knelt together as a loving band of brothers at one altar, partook of the same sacrifice, and with alternate hands distributed the sacred feast to a mingled multitude from many folds, but all profess- ing a common faith, and united as one under a common Head, our Lord Jesus Christ ? The Church of Eng- land, then, moved by this spiiit of Christian love, manifesting this earnest desire for that unity which is a true note of the true Church, and carrying out this desire in such powerful and successful action ; will you not join with me in expressing the conviction that we may go round about her, and tell her towers, and mark her bulwarks, and consider her palaces, and return from our examination with the conviction that her THE CHUKCII OF ENGLAND. 109 strength is great, her defences unshaken, and her ulti- mate triumph certain. But if one single joyous day of jubilee celebration produced this conviction, how greatly was it strength- ened by many successive days spent in friendly inter- course with the fatliers, priests, and lay brethren of the Church, in seeing their abundant labors and sacrifices, hearing about their plans for the extension of the Ee- deemer's Kingdom, witnessing their well directed zeal, and beholding every where the fruits of their munifi- cent donations in restoring the ancient and decaying consecrated places, building new and beautiful churches wherever there was need, both in rural districts and in the poor and populous neighborhoods of large cities, takins: anxious care for the instruction of the masses of the 23eo23le, so that the remotest and smallest ham- let shall have its school where the elements of useful knowleda'e are tauscht, in close connection with that better and more important knowledge which the Word of God and his Church can alone impart ; and not resting satisfied with making ample provision for the instruction and spiritual edification of the poor and destitute at home, but laying plans with wisdom and forecast, and executing them, one after one, with energy and hberahty, for giving the Church in its comj^lete organization to the most distant colonies and to heathen lands. Of all this, and much more, in connection with the building uj) and extension of the Church, and in the promotion of works of piety and benevolence, could I 110 THE POSITIOlSr AND PEOSPECTS OF speak in full detail, and give tlie manifold proof by specific instances, would the time permit, and then you would not hesitate to declare with me that the walk about Ziou has presented subjects for contemplation that should cheer and encourage the hearts of all de- vout sons of the Church. That we have seen no defects in her towers and bulwarks, and no deformity in her palaces, it would be want of sincerity and truth to assert. I have already alluded to one which is a deformity in our sight, and, in our judgment, a cause of injury to the Church by reason of the impediments thrown in the way of her free action. We have seen how this alliance of Church and State operated to our great disadvantage in the earlier periods of our history, and in many ways the same deleterious influence is still at work. But the question is one full of difficul- ties, and we are in no position to judge of it impar- tially and intelligently. We can see, however, that a violent and sudden disruption of the union would be attended with the most baneful consequences. Intelli- gent and zealous members of the Church are now anxiously seeking how this and all other imperfections may be lessened or removed, and how the efficiency of the Church may be increased. There is indeed a spirit of love and zeal and wisdom now manifested, which cannot fail of producing the happiest results. Party spirit is obviously growing less ; extreme opinions on both sides of contested questions are far less frequent, and less violently expressed. Brethren who once stood aloof from each other in attitudes of suspicion are now THE CHUECH OF ENGLAND. Ill drawing nearer, and convinced of tlie purity and in- tegrity of eacli other's motives, are preparing to lay aside smaller differences, and join heart and hand in the great work that is before them. While the Church of England exhibits, as she does, these symptoms of life and health, we feel no disposition to dwell longer at this time upon imperfections. Besides, to treat of the imi)erfections of any Church, is a responsible as well as painful task, more especially when that Church is our mother, and she a loving one, in whose venerable halls we have been received with a cordial hospitality. Our walk about Zion has left only love and veneration for the tokens she has given of her affection for us, and hope and courage in view of the glorious career she is yet destined to run. She will shake from her the secular chains by which her freedom has been con- strained ; her divisions and dissensions will be healed ; her latent energies will l)e put forth ; her enemies will be scattered before her, or, rather, she will win them to her ranks, and they vfill fight with her in close alli- ance against those who are the only real enemies of the Church, tlie powers of Satan. I would call upon you, then, to unite with me in gratitude to the great Head of the Church for what he has wrought, and is yet working towards the ac- complishment of his own blessed prayer : " That they all may be one ; as thou. Father, art in me and I in thee, that they also may be one in us ; that the world may believe that thou hast sent me." The unity of the Church is here made the condition of the conver- 112 THE POSITION AND PEOSPECTS OF sion of the world to the faith of Christ. When the Church is one, then will the world be compelled to believe in its heavenly origin. But till then the timid will fear, the unstable will doubt, the infidel will scoff. Dissensions will keep brethren apart who should love one another, and work together hand in hand, to gather in the fields which are ripe unto the harvest. The unity of the Church then should be the unceasing prayer of all God's people. Let it be ours more and more, and with ever increasing warmth. And as we pray, let us also strive. Prayer without effort is mockery, as effort without prayer is presump- tion. Let us strive then, each one, to bring his own heart at unity with God by repentance, faith, and obe- dience ; and at unity with the brethren by meekness, forbearance, and charit}^ Let all bitterness and wrath, and anger and clamor, and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice, and be ye kind one to an- other, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you. Until this be the temper of individual minds and hearts, in vain shall we look for peace and unity, and zealous co- operation in the great assemblies of the faithful. If, then, we honestly and sincerely desu'e the unity of the Church as the essential preparation for the accomplish- ment of the blessed purpose for which it was estab- lished, viz., the bringing all men unto that agreement in the faith and knowledge of God, and to that ripe- ness and perfectness of age in Christ, that there be no place left amongst us, either for error in religion or for THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. 113 viciousness of life,^ — if this we sincerely and lionestly desire, let us begin the work with ourselves, and follow it up faithfully with ourselves ; and then shall we he in the state in which we may come boldly to the throne of grace, and there offer up earnest prayers which shall not be unheeded, that the dispersed and divided members of Christ's sacred body may speedily be made one in faith and love. A PLEA FOR MISSIONS.* ECCLESIASTES, XI. 1, 2. Cast thy bread upon the waters : for thou shalt find it after many- days. Give a portion to seven, and also to eight ; for thou knowest not what evil shall be upon the earth. Theee is a striking analogy between the spiritual condition of man, and Ms wants and infirmities as a corporeal being. This analogy is the source of very much of the figurative language of the sacred volume. To be poor, and blind, and naked, is to be destitute of the knowledge, the consolations, and saving faith of the Gospel. To be hungry and thirsty, is anxiously to desire these invaluble privileges, and earnestly to seek for theii' attainment. * This Sermon was preached before the Board of Directors of the Do- mestic and Foreign Missionary Society of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States, in St. James's Church, Philadelphia, Tuesday, May 13th, 1828. Dr. Wainwright was Kector of Grace Church, New York, at the time, and the Sermon was published at the request of the Board. A PLEA FOR jnSSIONS. 115 Upon siicli authority I venture to accommodate the words of my text to the interesting subject which you expect will be presented to your notice on the present occasion. The Royal Preacher undoubtedly had refe- rence to the obligation and the advantage of relieving the temjDoral wants of our feUow-creatures ; but we may, I think, discover in the same words an exhortation and an encouragement to alleviate their more urgent and more universal spiritual necessities. The bread OF LIFE we are to cast unsparingly and extensively upon the wide waters of this world's sinfulness and ignorance ; we are not to regard it as lost or unprofit- ably spent because we do not instantly behold its good effects ; we are to have confidence in the Di^dne prom- ise, that after many days we shall most assuredly find it, in its blessed influences upon the perishing nations. According to the measure with which God hath favored us, we are to give a portion of our spiritual privileges to seven, and also to eight ; for we know not what cir- cumstances may be upon the earth, that shall cause our Christian benevolence to redound to our own future advantage. The words of the text thus applied, present to you, my brethren, the outline of a subject upon which I enter with a deep sense of its importance, and with an unfeigned distrust of my ability to treat it in a suitable manner, but with devout reliance upon the assistance of that Spirit without whom nothing is either strong or holy. May He, who inspired prophets to foretell the future glories of the millennial Church, who gave 116 A PLEA FOE MSSIOTfS. tongues of fire and hearts of zeal to apostolic men to proclaim, in every language, tlie unsearchable riches of Christ ; who is the Teacher of all spiritual knowl- edge, the Author of all good desires and j)i*ofitable labors ; may He now be present with us, and so strengthen the preacher, and enlighten the minds and soften the hearts of the hearers, that we may all go from hence, more faithful subjects of King Messiah, more convinced of the blessings of his reign on earth, more resolutely determined to extend the borders of his emj^ire. Our attention then is to be directed towards the duty of sending forth the Gospel of Christ, as widely as possible, even till it reaches the ends of the earth, and penetrates every desert place upon its wide circum- ference. "Cast thy bread upon the waters." The mighty ocean covers much the largest portion of this world on which we dwell ; it can bear about with the greatest facility, and rapidity, and universality, the treasm'es that are entrusted to it ; it encircles every island, washes the shores of every continent, and com- municates with theii" deepest recesses by rivers and bays, its majestic arms. Here we find an illustration of the anticipations we are taught to indulge in regard to the extent of Christ's Kingdom, and an amplification of the words of prophecy, that " the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea." Here also we find the only boundaries which are to limit our thoughts and lal^ors in the sublime cause of Missions. The Gospel is not to be restricted to one A PLEA FOR MSSIONS 117 nation, or kindred, or people, — it is destined in its sure and ii'resistible progress to reach and pervade all. To what extent, as regards individuals, the kingdoms of this world are to become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ, whether every li\T:ng and account- able creature, in any one future age, will be brought to accept the offered terms of salvation, we know not ; but of this we are assured, that God designs the Gos- pel to be preached to all, and has appointed a period in the duration of the world when every intelligent being, from the greatest to the least, shall have the opportunity of knowing the truth as it is in Jesus. Where then are we Christians to limit our prayers, our projects, and our exertions ? We do not confine our j)rayers, — we daily beseech our Almighty Father that his Kingdom may come, and his will be done on earth even as it is in heaven. In heaven his will is univer- sally performed, and his name adored by every blessed inhabitant there. Our prayers then reach forth in as- pirations after a like universal exhibition of obedience and love here below. But what is the extent of our projects and our exertions ? I fear that we shall dis- cover them to be limited, cramped, and restrained. Cold selfishness, and cowardly policy, and lifeless at- tempts, have been too often and too long the character- istics of many of those who call themselves disciples of Christ. When I consider what the Missionary cause is — ^that its design is to communicate to our brethren of the human family who are destitute of them, bless- ings and privileges which w^e esteem invaluable and 118 A PLEA FOR ]vnssio]srs. essential ; to impart knowledge wliich we possess to beings like ourselves, wko are absolutely perisbing for lack of it ; and wben I consider, tbat by imparting we diminish not tbe smallest portion of our own privileges and advantages, I am in utter amazement that this cause is not more zealously promoted. And were it proper to introduce private feelings, I would add, that I am grieved and humiliated that it has not heretofore occupied a much larger space in my own meditations and labors. We have every motive, as enlightened men and sincere Christians, to enter into this cause with full purpose of heart, never to abandon or grow cold in it, while powers and opportunities for its advancement shall be continued to us. There is not a single view of it which we can bring forward to excuse our apathy. When called upon to give a portion of this world's goods to relieve the poor, we may sometimes feel that the store we possess is in danger of too great diminu- tion ; when we impart to others the knowledge of art or of science that distinguishes us, it may seem that by making them as wise as ourselves, we lessen our own comparative elevation. But to impart sjijuitual treas- ures, however freely we give them forth, in no degree diminishes our own wealth ; on the contrary, it is thus augmented ; our own place in the Kingdom of heaven will not be made lower, though an entrance be abun- dantly ministered unto others. While, therefore, men are so ready to send the temporal comforts of food and clothing to the hungry and destitute, and while A PLEA FOR jVnSSIONS. 119 they esteem it a grand and honorable nndertaking to spread abroad the lights of human science, and to extend the improvements of civilized society, — ^why should so little interest, in comparison, be felt in communicating spiritual knowledge and consolations ? How are we to account for this ? Not because the society in which we dwell is destitute of the spirit of benevolence. By no means ; such an accusation would be in the highest degree unjust. The spuit of benev- olence exists, with few exceptions, in the bosoms of all men. To excite and put it into action, you need only present to theii' sympathies some case of want or suf- fering which they can comprehend and realize. Now all may imagine what it is to suffer hunger and cold, and to endure unrelieved and unmitigated poverty, — the more intelligent will easily comprehend and justly estimate the benefits which knowledge and the arts of civilized life have conferred upon themselves and upon the community in which they dwell. These things they understand and can reahze, and therefore upon such subjects their sympathies are easily awak- ened ; and we may be assured, that when once men can fully appreciate the advantages of the Gospel of Christ to themselves ; when once they can say, that to them it is more precious than gold and rubies, and that all human science and art are vain and worthless in comparison with it ; when once they can feel that it has been the means of rescuing them from the power of that dreadful disease which was palsying vii'tuous effort, and poisoning present enjoyment, and banishing 120 A PLEA FOR UnSSIONS. the hope of life immortal ; when and wheresoever all this is felt and appreciated, there will be no difficulty in rousing and keeping in vigorous activity Missionary benevolence. Wherever, on the contrary, this benev- olence is not felt and exhibited, it is because the power of true religion is not ex]3erieuced. Any system of professed Christianity which main- tains light opinions of human depravity, and softened explanations of the threatenings of eternal damnation, cannot be expected to take a deep interest in the sjDiritual condition of the human race. When we notice what we esteem a slight disease, we are not particularly anxious about the means of cure, — our remedies are mild and are tardily administered, and we are willing to trust to the healing power of nature. Not so when we observe the symptoms of one of those di'eadful maladies which quickly send men to destruc- tion; then we are alarmed and in earnest, and ply vigorously and without cessation, every method of arresting it, which science and experience can devise. Similar to this must be the feeling of those who are truly engaged in the IVIissionary cause. Those who entertain different opinions of the extent of human depravity and its consequences, may talk about Mis- sions, and attem|)t to excite among themselves some interest in their favor ; but this is in self-defence, and because they are roused by the reproach of lukewarm- ness. They can have no heartfelt devotion to this species of Christian benevolence. It is not simply because Christianity will improve the temporal con- A PLEA FOR MISSIONS. 121 dition of those to wliom it is communicated ; saving the idolater from moral degradation, and from expen- sive offerino^s and sacrifices of human blood ; restorins^ woman to her just privileges, her mild control, and purifying influences, and thus bringing in its train all the benefits of civilized life ; it is not on these accounts alone that we are to promote the dissemination of our religion. Great, unquestionably, as are the moral and temi)oral advantages which accrue to those who are the subjects of missionary labors, this must not be our sole or our principal reason for promoting them. Would we aid Missions upon proper and efficient principles, we must aid them because they are means appointed by God for taking perishing sinners from a state of condemnation ; for introducing the lost sons of Adam into the flock and fold of Christ ; for extend- ing the triumphs of the Redeemer over sin, Satan, and death ; and for peopling the mansions of the blessed with pure and rejoicing spirits, who might otherwise have been the hateful and blaspheming subjects of eternal condemnation and misery. These are the sol- emn and overwhelming considerations which present the cause of JVIissions in all its extended importance, which connect it with the awful sublimities of a future world, and which, therefore, are best calculated to rouse the attention of beings acting on their respon- sibility as immortal. Those who have not these feelings and views can never be engaged in it, as they should be, heart, mind, soul, and strength. When mere temporal advantages are to be communicated to 122 A PLEA FOR MISSIONS. our fellow-creatures, and moral renovation for the purpose of iuducmg tliem to live witli greater purity and dignity " the life of to-day, " when these are the only motives that impel us to the Missionary cause, it will ine\dtably be pursued with the caution, the delay, the controlled feelings and views of a worldly policy. Let me know what opinions any set of men hold in regard to the distinguishing characteristic of the Gospel of Christ, and I can almost predict how high the thermometer of their religious benevolence will rise when a^oplied to the atmosphere which envel- opes the sin-darkened nations. With the true and faithful Missionary, the Gospel does not seize hold upon his affections, arm his resolutions, sustain his self-denial, and animate his labors, as the Gosj)el of Christ the moral teacher, Christ the author of immortality, Christ the renovator of religion : No — it is Christ crucified, Christ the atonement for his sins, Christ the only and the all-sufiicieut means of his restoration to the favor of God and the hope of futm'e blessedness."^ This is the saying which is worthy of all acceptation, and which he earnestly desii^es may be accepted of all. This is the Gospel which he readily perceives was not communicated for himself alone, but for every creature born in the same state of condemnation with himself And the gratitude which he feels for his own deliver- ance, his present consolations and future hopes, while it fills his mouth with praises to God his Saviour, engages his hands and his heart to promote the cause * See Note A. A PLEA FOR ivnssioNS. 123 which he knows to be dearest to that Saviour, for which He endured the cross, despising the shame, even the salvation of the world. In former years, the cause of Missions was little understood, and, therefore, was much misrepresented and violently assailed. But now there are few who are avowedly opposed to it. Every Christian must and will acknowledge that the ignorant and destitute of our own shores, have great and unalienable claims upon our charitable sympathies and assistance, and there are very few who entirely reject and discoun- tenance the petitions of the poor heathen of foreign lands. So much has been said and written to encour- age this holy warfare, such proofs of its justice and expediency have been advanced, and so much ground has actually been gained in it, that pious and thinking men can be indifferent no longer. The animating exhortations of such men as the ardent Melville Home, and the eloquent and benevolent Chalmers, the self-denying labors of the pious Schwartz, the zealous Buchanan, the judicious Middleton, the de- voted and accomplished Martyn, the almost perfect Heber ; * and, m our own country, the cogent appeals and powerful examples of those of other persuasions, in the pulpit and on Missionary ground, sanctified and rendered efficient by the Spiiit of God, have awakened the slumbering spu-it of Christendom, and disturbed the long and disgraceful apathy of our own Church. But much, very much, remains to be accomplished. * See Note B. 124 A PLEA FOR MISSIOlSrS. It is one tiling to acknowledge tlie justice and obliga- tion of Missionary claims; a far different one to put fortli our energies to advance them. This is what Christians of no place and of no denomination have as yet done to the extent which the cause deserves and demands ; and certainly we must be content to endure the reproach and mortification of being among the last to enroll ourselves under the banners of this holy war- fare. My observation has more especial reference to the case of Foreign Missions. To aid our brethren at home within the boundaries of our own country, even Christians of moderate zeal and benevolence have acknowledged to be a duty ; and a few flocks have been collected, and a few patches from the vast do- mains of our western country, have been reclaimed and cultivated for their sustenance. But what have we done abroad ? But little, and that little with still less effect. The idea of sending the Gospel to the remote ends of the earth, has been ridiculed by some as a quixotic enterprise ; has been discountenanced by some as impracticable ; and has been discouraged by others as interfering with more urgent claims nearer at home. Others again object, because the beneficial effects of Missions have not, in then* estimation, been commen- surate with the exertion and expense that have attended producing them. Eeasoning from the many disappointments that these enterprises have met with, and from the large sums of money expended in them, they delare that the time has not yet arrived, that we A PLEA FOR MISSIONS. 125 must wait till tlie state of lieatlien nations is rendered more propitious to sucli attempts by political or other changes, and that while comparatively so little is to be accomplished abroad, and so much remains to be effected at home, our donations and exertions should flow in this latter channel alone. These considerations are not without weight; at any rate, some of them proceed from those whose sincere attachment to the Kingdom of Christ, and whose earnest desire to see its advancement, we cannot for a moment question. But surely the claims upon us at home, are not a sufficient apology for utterly rejecting those who call to us for salvation from afar. " Cast thy bread upon the waters, give a portion to seven, and also to eight." I doubt not, and no Christian can doubt, that our first and most imj)erious duty is at home. We are to do good unto all men, but especially unto them that are of the household of faith. He that should cast his whole bread upon the universal ocean of Christian benevo- lence, while his own family are hungry for the want of it, would literally be worse than an infidel ; he that should portion oft' strangers and the heathen, and leave his own relatives to poverty and dej)endeuce, would exhibit himself as destitute of the true princi- ples of benevolence, as of the feelings of aftection. We could never approve that ostentatious spirit which scatters abroad, and spares and grudges at home; which spends itself in looking at the ends of the earth, while the eye passes carelessly over the intermediate space. Our holy religion unquestionably teaches that 126 A PLEA FOR MISSIOlSrS. charity begins at liome ; but witb equal emphasis, it declares that it does not terminate there. We are each one of us bound to be as extensively useful as possible : we must not exclusively confine ourselves to our ov/n immediate families, nor even to the limits of our own nation ; we must ever be alive to the consid- eration how we can do good according to our abilities and opportunities to the great family of man. By every obligation of duty, by every motive of interest, this spirit of enlarged benevolence is recommended to us. Let us for a moment look at the subject in this light. The more closely we examine the condition of man in society, the more convinced shall we be of the extent of our mutual connections and dependencies. So wisely is the order of God's Providence arranged, so closely has he connected together the human family, that the relations of man with man are every day growing still more extensive. The most distant parts of the earth are now united by the bonds of mercan- tile interest, and the frequency of social intercourse: every part is constantly becoming more essential to the comfort and well-being of every other part. We cannot then be indifferent to what relates to the im- provement of any portion of the human race. But I would ask, is this enlarged obligation sufficiently considered or acted upon by men in general, and especially by Christian men ? Their responsibilities to the family that depends upon them, and to the friends of their immediate connection they will readily A PLEA FOK MISSIONS. 127 acknowledge, and for the most part, punctually dis- charge. But here they rest. They view themselves as part of a narrow circle, and not of a grand whole. They will move perhaps evenly and regularly in their own little orbit, l^ut forget that this orbit, with all that it contains, must take its course around a larger one, and this again around another, till we can no longer trace the majestic and complicated system. It is not intended, as before stated, to advocate the prin- ciple that a man's contributions and exertions are to be devoted with equal energy and continuousness to objects remote as well as near. By no means. As he approaches the centre of his circle, the more power- fully must his rays be seen and his warmth be felt. But there is no point at which their influence must be checked and drawn in by himself It is only when other beings are beyond his reach, that his duty ceases ; then, indeed, the hght of the benevolent man, like that of one of the lesser stars, becomes feeble and undistinguishable, but even then it is not without its effect, for it aids to form that luminous galaxy which encircles the moral firmament. Now if the principle thus briefly illustrated be a correct one; if it be founded in the nature of man, be enforced by his condition in society, and be rendered obligatory by the inferred and the revealed will of God, at what point on the surface of this globe will it authorize us to suspend our exertions and contributions for impart- ing to our fellow-men that which we esteem our best treasure ? What remote island, what secluded valley, 128 A PLEA FOE ]VnSSIONS. what alpine region, wliere sinful and accountable man inhabits, should we consider as placed beyond our sympathies ? None. We may not think as often, or give as much for them as for our own household of faith, but we must sometimes think and act, and something we must give. Domestic and Foreign Missions, though they may be distinct in name, though their transactions may be under the control of different bodies of men (and per- haps for their mutual benefit such a division of labors may be exjDedient), yet the cause itself is one and indi- visible. That which makes them Foreign and Domes- tic, is the difference of our civil relations. But what has the Gospel of Christ to do with boundaries of kingdoms, or the forms of government, or differences of language, or varieties of feature and complexion ? The enlarged and generous spirit of Christian love overleaps these boundaries. God, who hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, will the more approve our benevo- lence the more expansive it becomes, because it then in some degree resembles his own universal goodness. Let not any one imagine that he is the true and en- lightened friend of Domestic Missions, while his affec- tions are cold to those which have our distant brethren of the human family for their object. In our thoughts, our prayers, and our exertions, they are to be regarded as the offspring of the same principle ; just as that is the same charity which gives to the destitute family that lives withm sight of our own habitation, and to A PLEA FOR TVnSSIONS. 129 the unfortunate being plundered and wounded, and left for dead on the road side, whom we casually en- counter while on a distant journey. We could not innocently pass by the latter with neglect, for he also is our neighbor in the view of Christian duty. But although the general j)rinciple may be allowed, there are some who may be disposed to deny its imme- diate apj)lication to the heathen world, and to urge as a reason for longer delay the little that has been effected there, and the discouraging prospects it even now pre- sents to our \aew. Of those who assert this objection, and thus reason themselves into a state of indifference, it may be demanded, is not the precept, " Go preach the Gospel to every creature," plain, dii*ect, and un- trammelled with restrictions or limitations ? Are we to wait for another command as the signal to go forth ? Have we any right to expect another ? Did the Apos- tles and Missionaries of the Church in its infant a2:e remain within the walls of Jerusalem, or even within the confines of Judea ? No. When the Church was once established, and its triple order arranged and or- ganized by Di\dne suggestion, it became the settled plan and determination of its counsels to overspread the earth with the doctrine of the cross. The isles of Greece, the shores of Asia, refined Atheu-s, imperial Rome, uncivilized Britain, remotest India, these were the fields of Missionary labor ere a century had elapsed from the going forth of the great commandment — preach the Gospel. Had Christians in after ages pos- sessed but half the portions of this ApostoHc zeal which 9 130 A PLEA FOR MISSIOlSrS. distinguislied tlie Churcli wliile iii its age of infancy, in eigliteen centuries there would not have been a place on the whole earth ignorant of the name of Christ. But the plea and excuse of the spiritual destitution of our brethren at home returns upon us. Let us look again at the conduct of the Apostles in this respect. They unquestionably went frequently and far on Foreign Mssions. Will it be said that the corrupt and hardened Scribes and Pharisees of Jerusalem, the ignorant and yoke-bound slaves of their burdensome rites and foolish traditions in the regions round about (which was the field of Domestic Missions to the Apos- tles), will it be said that this field did not need their attention and cultivation as much as almost any portion of any nation of Christendom needs the labors of Christians of the present day ? And when the Apostles knew that Jerusalem was to be trodden down of the Gentiles, and its wretched inhabitants destroyed or scattered abroad, might they not have found in the prospect of these dreadful visitations a j^owerful excuse for confining their lal^ors to their own brethren ? Yet they were not restricted by these views. They went forth, — quickened by zeal for Christ and love for the souls of men ; — ^they penetrated even to the ends of the earth. Or will it be argued that to them obstacles were less and encouragements greater than to us ? Let us make the comparison. The inveterate prejudice, the narrow bigotry or high contempt of Mussulmen, — are these hateful qualities more prominent in them than they were in Pharisaical Jews of ancient tunes ? A PLEA FOR mSSIONS. 131 The mild Hiucloos are intelligent, are devoted to their superstition, wMcli is supported by antiquity, and de- fended by learning and taste ; but are they by these cu'cumstances placed farther beyond the reach of the Gospel than the polished and witty Greeks, or the dignified and philosophical Romans ? The Indians of Western America and the isles of the Pacific are igno- rant and degraded ; the savage hordes of Africa are remote and intractable ; but are they less accessible or more barbarous than the furious Gauls, or naked Britons, or inhospitable Scythians ? Or to coast the shores of the Mediterranean in frail barks without compass or chart ; was this less hazardous, or an enter prise of less extent, than now to sail in our stately and well ordered ships, guided by experienced skill and the certainties of science ? No, my brethren. There is no obstacle to missionary enterprise in the present day, which was not equally formidable to the Apostles and early Missionaries. There was no encouragement given to them which we do not enjoy in an equal degree. And I will venture to add, we ha\'e equal advantages for bringing converts to the faith of Christ, had we but their zeal and devotion. They indeed wrought miracles, they spake with foreign tongues, they were inspired teachers ; but we have the arts of civilization, which arouse the attention and command the respect of the ignorant Heathen, like miracles ; we have time and facilities to learn foreign languages which were denied to the Apostles ; and the preaching of the Gospel, if it be not from insj)ired lips, yet if 1B2 A PLEA FOR MISSIOlSrS. these lips faithfully declare the truths of inspiration, the Spirit of God will give them entrance into the heart. Now, as in the days of the Apostles, the Gospel grows not from the planting of Paul, or the watering of Apollos, but because God giveth the increase * But why need I argue these points ? Argument was the duty of twenty years ago ; then was the season of doubt and irresolution with the timid ; with the bold, merely the period of anticijDation. At the present day, instead of arguing on general principles, we can present the simple and obvious demonstration. We have begun to find that bread which for so many years, and with apparently so little effect, hath been cast upon the waters. Look at what has been accom- plished by the Missionaries of the South Sea Islands. " Never," as competent and trustworthy witnesses have declared, "never did the Gospel obtain a more com- plete and glorious triumph over ignorance and sensu- ality and superstition since the world began. Behold again in the East the seed which was placed but a few years since in. the bosom of the earth, which Middleton cherished and Heber watered; and how it flourishes and puts forth its leaves, and yields its fruits, and how the nations begin to resort unto it for healing, and the ancient Churches to revive beneath its sheltering branches. Look at this, and be no longer faithless, but believing. But when we would point to what Mission- ary labor has actually accomplished, whose thoughts do not at once turn to trace the unostentatious but * See Note 0. A PLEA FOR MISSIONS. 133 decided progress of tliat band of Apostolic men, the Mora\dan brothers ? We look at tbem and the history of their labors and successes with unbounded respect and admiration. Hence we may derive courage the most abundant. Considering the difficulties that the Mission cause has had to contend with, the lukewarm- ness of its friends, the opposition of its enemies, the absence of concert in its j)lans, the inexperience of its directors, the want of adequate preparation in its mes- sengers, we cannot reasonably indulge disaj)pointment in regard to its desired effects ; we may rather wonder that these effects are made prominent so early. Under the influence of reflections made upon the present state of Missions, to me it now appears that there is no place on this earth so remote, no people so barbarous, no superstition so rooted in the affections and prejudices of those who practise it, that may not at this very day, by the very fii'st ship that can be j)repared, be made the object of a successful Missionary assault Had we the means and the instruments, the time is always ready. It is to be wanting both in faith and courage to wait for political changes or moral revolu- tions. The Gospel must make its own way, and it is able to do so. If the true priests and Levites will only carry the Ark of the living God into the enemy's land, they need not fear for its safety ; no sacrilegious hand will be permitted to take hold of it for its destruction, and Dagon shall fall prostrate before it. But the spirit of enterprise once awakened by these views, we acknowledge that its operations must be 134 A PLEA FOE MISSIONS. directed witli the utmost circumspection. We sliould not hesitate because the field is remote, the enterprise hazardous, the pros23ect of success distant ; but we may require that the plan be prepared by the best ex]3e- rience, and the fullest knowledge of circumstances, and that ample means be collected to put it into thorough execution. To ministers of the Gospel, and to all devout Christians in their respective spheres of action, it belongs to excite and to press forward the Mission- ary spirit, and to pour into the Missionary treasury of the Lord, supplies so ample that the drafts upon it shall never fail. Upon the Boards and Directors of Missionary Societies, it is incumbent to look with the eye of enlightened philosophy, as well as Christian compassion, over the whole surface of the earth, and see to Avhat points their eiforts can be directed with the best prospect of success, and what measures are best calculated to insure this success. We must ac- knowledge that most of the disappointments that have attended Missionary efforts, and most of the fruitless exertions that are now adduced as an argument against them, have proceeded from want of sufficient prudence and knowledge in their management. Zeal without knowledge will carry us astray ; the courage of entei' prise without prudence to direct it, cannot be expected to produce successful results. Another consideration is also of importance. While our means and resources are limited, they should not be directed to too many objects. Collect the little tributary streams into one channel, and their force will bear down mighty obsta- A PLEA FOR MISSIONS. 135 cles ; tliey will reacli tlieir way to lands which they can beautify and enrich ; but divide them minutely, and dispense them widely upon the arid sands of the desert, and they will be dried up, or sink away, and leave no green traces of their progress.* When we direct our eyes over the whole surface of the globe, in benevolent inquiry for the field which appropriately belongs to us to cultivate, which our past neglect, our present duty, our future interests, unitedly mark out to us as our own, shall we not say that it is Africa, injured, oppressed, degraded Africa ? injured, we are willing to believe, through the sin of ignorance in our forefathers; oj)]3ressed, that the labors and sacrifices of her children might minister to our comforts and luxuries ; degraded, by the yoke of an unjust and cruel bondage, imposed by those who to us were benefactors and parents. Is it not our solemn duty to do away, as far as possible, the effects of their injustice ; to rej)air the moral evils which they have caused ? And in what better manner can this be done, than by giving to Africans the blessings of Christianity, and preparing for them in their own land " cities of refuge ? " Nay, I would demand in what other method can it be done? I can see no other, and imagine no other. But let us with strong and united purpose, engage ourselves in this enter- prise, and the good we may accomplish, the evil we may avert, is incalculable. As regards other Mission- ary attempts, we are encouraged to look for a reward * See Note D. 136 A PLEA FOE MISSIONS. altliougli it may be distant; after many days tliou shalt find the bread that thou hast cast upon the waters. But here another, and a most solemn and interesting motive is added : " Give a portion to seven, and also to eight, for thou knowest not what evil shall be in the earth." The danger that imj)ends over us as a nation, from the increase of our colonial and slave population, we cannot define or imagine. But that by a continuation of our infatuated blindness and criminal neglect, it may be awfully great, no thinking man can doubt. To us who are happily exemj)t from the curse of Slavery, this danger is not so immediate ; but can we be indifferent to it ? By no means. The cause is a common one. The welfare of the members of one family, who should be united in bonds of the closest aftection, as they are by the ties of interest, is involved in it. I am troubled and grieved when I hear upon this subject the interests of the South, and the interests of the North conflicting, and the jealou- sies of one met by the reproaches of the other. It is not the fault of our Southern brethren that has entailed this exdl upon them : it is not by virtue and prudence alone, that we have escaped from it. Let us remember this. Our exemption arises from cir- cumstances that existed long before there was any distinction of principle upon this point; the nature of our climate, and the character of our early popu- lation. To triumph in our freedom, as though it were of our own purchasing, is folly and ingratitude ; to hold it up as a reproach to our brethren is base A PLEA FOE MISSIONS. 137 cruelty and injustice. As loving brethren, as faithful citizens, as true and benevolent Christians, we should unite, heart and hand, wealth and wisdom, enterprise and prayer, to avert the evils, to redress the injuries, to remove the disgrace consequent upon the intro- duction of Slavery into this western world. To talk of any general or immediate emancipation to the injured sons of Africa, except the freedom which Christ can give, is to talk language, the origin of which is ignorance, the consequences of which are cruel suffering to our brethren and friends. The free- dom of Christ, then, let us proclaim to Africa, and let it be our determination that her sons shall enjoy it. And let her sons too be its heralds. Africa must be civilized and Christianized by Africans ; but in America must the work be prej^ared. Here must Missionaries be selected, and instructed, and commis- sioned. Why should we not have our School of Missions for this express purj^ose, and why should it not be commenced forthwith ? For such an enter- prise, so fraught with advantages, we have only to make judicious preparations, and to bring forward our demands, and we shall, I am confident we shall find a general response of sympathy throughout our land, and a willing and abundant contribution.'^' But I find myself an insulated individual, encroaching upon what I have stated to be the aj^propriate province for the exercise of the united wisdom of Missionary Boards and Directors. I say not the field I have * See Note E. 138 A PLEA FOR ]mission:s. spoken of, is the ouly one. Assuredly not. But I present it now, as appearing to me tlie one first ru duty, and first in importance. And now, my brethren, having demanded your attention longer, I fear, than I have rewarded it, I must approach the conclusion of my present effort. Weak though it be — far inadequate to the dignity and importance of the subject, I will yet pray the Almighty Spirit to give it His blessing; and I will, also, venture to ask for it your prayers. In regard to the cause itself, I have no doubt. It must and will succeed. The triumphs of the cross will be more frequent and more universal, from this time forth, while the world shall endure. "VVe, indeed, and many of our posterity may first disappear from the earth, but the Bread of Life shall return again to this land from which it has been sent forth. Our children's childi'en will enjoy the Christian triumphs, and par- take the Gospel peace and prosperity we may now prepare for them. The earth is gradually improving, its deserts are reclaiming, its forests are levelling, green fields and smiling villages, the comforts of plenty, and the elegancies of art, are advancing. In the j)rogress of ages, from our own Atlantic shores to the Pacific, shall be one extended surface, which the industry of man shall cultivate and beautify, and his enterpi'ise fill with level roads and easy waters of communication. The mysterious centre of Africa shall be known and visited by commercial enterprise. The jealous gates of China shall be thrown widely A PLEA FOE MISSIONS. 130 open, and lier wall of sej^aration be cast down to tlie eartli. The wandering tribes of Asia sliall rest, and tents and tabernacles be changed into places of per- manent abode. Not an island in the universal ocean sliall be unknown, nor where man can inhabit, shall it be unpeo^^led or uncivilized. And all this time, shall the Gospel be immovable ? shall it be confined within its present narrow boundaries? No, my brethi'en — for it shall be the chief stimulus to all this enterprise, the principal cause of all these successful results. When our remote posterity shall see the earth tranquil in peace, smiling in joy, and vocal in praise to God, they shall recur with wonder to the history of past times, when wars were in the earth, when heathen superstitions disgraced it, and sacrifices of blood vexed it, and sin every where polluted it ; and in deep-felt gratitude they shall say, these are the blessed effects of our fathers' labors, and of those who engaged with them in the Missionary cause. Blessed be their name and theu* memory ! And perhaps, we also, to whom these anticipations seem now extravagant, may be permitted to look down and see the earth imj)roving, the reign of peace restored, and the garden of Eden again flourishing in delights. Hasten, O Lord, the time, — re^ave thy work in the midst of the years, in the midst of the years make known, — henceforth let thy word run very swiftly, — defer not, O our God, until the kingdoms of this world have become the kino-doms of our Lord and of his Christ. Amen". NOTES. The observations which follow might have been placed at the bottom of the pages where are found the passages, in the preceding Sermon, which they are designed to illustrate ; but it was thought better not to interrupt the attention of the reader, and therefore they are here collected together. NOTE A, P. 122. On page 122, it is stated, that tlie peculiar and essential doctrine of the Gospel, Christ cruciiied as the atonement for our sins, and the sole Author of immortal life, is the one which can alone sustain the Missionary, and give success to his labors. We have ample proof of this from well authenticated facts. Who have been truly zealous in this cause, or have actually accomplished any thing in it, except those who maintain the doctrines of grace ? As to the influence of these doctrines, look at the following facts, taken from an Essay by one of the most remarkable young men of the present age — too early, alas ! removed from his anticipated labors among the heathen. John Urquhart, like Henry Kirke White, was distinguished for early and powerful talents, for an early and assiduous use of them, for early and devoted piety, for an early and much lamented, but a blessed death. See parts of pages 85 and 86, in the first volume of the interesting Memoirs of John Urquhart, by William Orme. " To come then to the facts. Tlie scene of the experiment was the inhospitable region of Greenland ; and the moral and intellectual condition of the inhabitants was even more barren and dreary than the scenery with which they were surround- ed. Here the only plausible system of instruction seemed to be to attempt to teach the savages those truths which are of a preliminary nature. Accordhigly, the Missionaries set to work most assiduously, in telling the Greenlanders of the NOTES. 141 being and cliaracter of a God, and of the requirements of his hiw. However plausible this mode of instruction may appear, it was patiently continued in for seven years, without producing even tlie smallest effect on those hearts whicli ignorance and stupidity had rendered almost inaccessible. The first conversion (as far as man was concerned) may be said to have been accidental. Some Southlanders happened to visit the brethren, as one of them was writing a translation of the Gospels. They were curious to know what was in the book, and on hearing read the history of Christ's agony in the garden, one of the savages earnestly exclaimed, ' How was that ? Tell me it once more ; for I would fain be saved.' Some time after this remarkable conversion, the brethren entirely changed tlieir method of instruction. ' They now directed the attention of the savages, in the first in- stance, to Christ Jesus, to his incarnation, to his life, and es- pecially to his sufferings.' This was the beginning of a new era in the history of the evangelization of Greenland. Con- version folloAved conversion, till the Missionaries could num- ber hundreds to whom the message of God had come, not in word only, but also in power." What a different course of j)roceeding is this from that which we have heard is attempting in Calcutta, by an inter- esting native. He has prepared extracts from the i^ew Testament, which, as far as possible, exclude its peculiar and essential doctrines, and represent, as the teacliing of Jesus, simply and solely the moral precepts he inculcated ; and the admirers of this benevolent and learned, though deeply mis- taken Hindu, anticipate from such a mangled and lifeless system, conversions to the faith of Christ. When this system does make converts, and bring a benighted people from dark- ness into light, and from the power of Satan unto God, we may begin to put some faitli in it. But it is impossible ; the preaching of Christ crucified is the only preaching that ever did, or ever will, convert the heathen. I doubt whether " the precepts of Jesus," alone, would ever have been " to the Jews a stumbling block, to the Greeks foolishness." This is not the doctrine which first offended prejudice and after- 142 NOTES. wards vanquished it ; tlius proving itself " tlie power of God, and tlie wisdom of God." NOTE B, P. 123. On page 123, the names of several individuals are men- tioned, who have distinguished themselves in promoting the Missionary cause. Such an enumeration in a discourse for the pulpit, must of necessity be very limited and incomplete. This holy cause can boast of many advocates, eminently dis- tinguished for talents, as well as piety and zeal ; many who yet are alive and laboring to serve their Master in this way to him most acceptable, and many more whose memories live and flourish, though their bodies slumber in the dust. The Missionary course of such men as Martyn and Brainard, has not yet terminated. The spirits of many will be stirred, and the faith of many be strengthened by their example, and thus, through their instrumentality, will the Gospel be preached to multitudes of the heathen. Their lives, which are comjjiled principally from their own journals, are replete with interest as pieces of biography, and ai'e admirably cal- culated to kindle and keep alive the flame of private devo- tion. They ought to be, and will be, the inseparable com- panions of every Missionary. A life of Bisliop Heber, prepared in the same manner and with equal ability, would be an invalual)le present to the Christian world. In him Ave see splendid talents, pro- found learning, cultivated taste, poetic imagination, the love- liness of domestic virtue, saintly piety, and Ajjostolic zeal combining together to form a character " almost perfect." Why, also, should not the crown of martyrdom encircle his brow ? He did not, indeed, expire under the axe, or in the fire of persecution ; but he counted not his life dear unto himself, and sacrificed it, in abundant labors and courageous exertions in that fatal climate. Two have gone from that most elevated and interesting Missionary station — Middleton and Heber ; both great and good ; both perfectly adapted to their respective work ; the former, by his firmness and sound dis- cretion ' to plant the Church — the latter, by his ardor to NOTES. 143 nourisli it ; and botli were faithful unto death. A longer de- ferred termination of his responsible duties we may wish for their successor, Bishop James, but a more glorious one we cannot. NOTE C, P. 132. "Within the limits ordinarily assigned to a sermon, it would be impossible to represent with any effect the benefits that have actually been derived from the labors of Foreign Mis- sionaries. Information upon this point is, however, abundant and accessible. The reports of Missionary Societies and the journals of Missionaries, are replete with interesting accounts of the influence of the Gospel upon the characters of the heathen, purifying their conduct, elevating their minds, open- ing to theni the prospects of immortality, and at the same time improving, in an unspeakable degree, their temjDoral comforts. See the Journal of Stewart at the Sandwich Isles, the Moravian Reports every where, any number of the Mis- sionary Herald, and the Journal of Bishop Heber, which we trust will soon be given to the American public. For the evidence of an immense amount of good accom- plished both at home and abroad, and for an illustration of the manner in which the Church of God should fulfil its ap- propriate and solemn duty of disseminating the Word of God, see the reports of the venerable and most excellent Society for promoting Christian Knowledge. Since writing the above, I have had an interesting con- versation with an intelligent captain of an American ship, who arrived here but a few weeks since, from the Sandwich Islands. He visited these islands twenty-seven years ago for the first time, and has since been there as frequently, and perhaps more so, than any captain who has sailed from this country. The account he gives me of the improvement of the natives, is most satisfactory, and most encouraging to future exertions in their favor. When he first knew them they were barbarous, half naked, ignorant, grossly immoral from the contaminating intercourse of dissolute foreigners, and he was in constant fear for his personal safety while on shore ; now they are decently apparalled, possess a written 144 KOTES. language by wliicli they hold a perfect and easy intercourse ; the arts, and even the elegancies of civilization are intro- duced among them, and life and property and commercial intercourse are guarded by judicious laws and regulations. This great change has been accomplished within a few years, and he attributes it entirely to the beneficial influence of the religion carried there by the Missionaries. There may be statements of an opposite nature given by some persons. But can we not easily account for them ? When this gentleman first went to the Sandwich Islands, a very lucrative trade was carried on by the Eurojjeans and Americans. The poor Indians, in their ignorance, would barter away large quantities of sandal wood, and other com- modities, for articles of the smallest value. At present, how- ever, they are so much improved and so well instructed, that they have learned the relative value of their own produc- tions and foreign manufactures, and all hopes of any thing but a fair and honorable trade are done away. Now, are there not persons in the world selfish enough, and unj)rin- cipled enough, to endeavor to discountenance and bring into disrepute any system which has interfered with their con- temptible pecuniary interests ? Contemptible indeed, when put in competition with the intellectual and religious im- provement, the present comfort and future happiness of thou- sands of immortal creatures. The intelligent person who suggested these observations, made one other, which struck me as of the utmost im- portance to the quick success of Missions, and one which, I fear, has been too much neglected by our Missionary Boards — caution to be exercised in the selection of judicious and well- instructed Missionaries. It is a dangerous idea, and one which should at once be discountenanced by all who are con- nected with Missionary operations, that a person, who from some prominent defect in manners, or from dulness of mental powers, is unfitted for ministering at home, may do very well for the heathen provided he has zeal and piety. NOTE D, P. 135. In the Essay which was referred to in K^ote A, and which, isroTES. 145 ill the Memoirs of John Urqiihart, Yol. I. p. 81, will be foimd entitled " Dr. Chalmers, St. Andrews Missionary Society," there are some highly important suggestions npon this point. Dr. Chalmers, as there styled, is indeed a Christian philo- sopher. The course he pursued at St. Andrews, is worthy of imitation in all our Colleges, more especially in our Theolo- gical Seminaries. To collect Missionary intelligence indus- triously, to arrange it judiciously, and to draw inferences from it logically, and thus to arrive with something of the certainty of science, at the best practical means of dissem- inating the Gospel, is certainly an object deserving the atten- tion and labors of every true and enlightened Christian, more especially of those who superintend the preparatory studies of the heralds of the cross. NOTE E, p. 137. African Mission School. — The time would not permit me to enlarge upon this important subject, but I refer the reader to Section IV. of an admirable little volume, " Hints on Mis- sions," by James Douglass, Esq. : — -though small in comj^ass, it is large even to sublimity in the views it presents, and the anticipations it throws out concerning the Ivingdom of Christ on the earth. Greece might be another interesting sphere for Missionary labor. With the fair prospect, and almost the assurance of j)olitical independence ; with a true Church existing there, although decayed and dilapidated like her ancient temples ; with prepossessions favorable to this country, through the benevolent interest w^e have exhibited in her favor ; we have every reason to believe, that judicious and able Missionaries sent from hence, might accomplish much in reanimating the spirit of true religion in that land, dear to us as scholars by its classical associations, far dearer to us as Christians as the scene of Paul's j^i'eaching and labors. The desolating flood of Mahometan superstition shall be rolled back, and the seven Churches of Asia will emerge from it. Would that it might be the honorable privilege of our own pure and Apostolic Church, to aid in removing the corruptions that have gathered upon them, and in rebuilding their towers and strengthening 10 146 NOTES. tlieir battlements, and making them again the gloiy of the East, a praise and a name unto the ends of the world ! In addition to our exertions in favor of Africa, which is our first duty, we might, if we had true zeal, accomplish something in this cause. One or two able and learned and pious Mis- sionaries (for thej must be eminent in all these qualities to be really efficient), could we obtain them, might move the lukewarm, and animate the desponding among the Greek clergy, and produce an intercourse of love between two sister Churches, having the common bond of a primitive ministry. But perhaps the exj^ression of such anticipations is pre- mature ; we may, however, cherish them in our hearts, and pray for their speedy accomplishment. In brinffino; these notes to a conclusion, I find that thev have swelled far beyond my expectation, and yet I have said but a small portion of what is present to my thoughts. The subject has constantly ojDcned upon me since I took my pen to write upon it, and new views are constantly appearing to my mind. Tlie cause of Foreign Missions now seems to me connected in the most intimate manner with the prosperity of our Church at home. I do believe, that in no way can we so effectually subserve our own ecclesiastical interests, — exciting and extending among ourselves a pure and self-de- nying spirit of piety, and an enlightened and ardent attach- ment to our own distinctive principles, as by j)lanning and laboring, contributing and praying, to make this Church known and glorified, as the blessed instrument of communi- cating spiritual knowledge and spiritual consolations to all people and kindred and tongues that dwell on all the face of the earth. Arouse then, fathers and brethren, ministers and people — as we are a Church professing primitive faith and Apostolic discipline, let us also be a Church exhibiting primi- tive zeal and Apostolic devotion to evangelizing the world ; and may Jesus our Lord a^id Saviour be with us — he liath promised solemnly and faithfully to be with us " alway, even to the end of the world," provided (and let us all well re- member the condition), provided we go fokth and preach THE Gospel to every creature. INEQUALITIES IN WEALTH THE ORDINANCE OE GOD.* Deuteronomy xv. 11. The poor shall never cease out of the land. Feom these words we must of necessity infer tliat there existed amongst the Jews a marked inequality in the distribution of wealth ; and, moreover, that this condition of things was not accidental or temporary, but was to be regarded by them as perpetual. The same prominent feature being equally discernible in our own and in all other communities of civilized men, two questions obviously claim our attention. Fii-st, is this distinction between the rich and the poor essential * This Sermon was preached before His Excellency John Davis, Governor, His Honor Samuel T. Armstrong, Lieutenant-Governor, the Honorable Council, and the Legislature of Massachusetts, on the Annual Election, January 7th, 1835, Dr. Wainwright being at the time Rector of Trinity Church, Boston. The thanks of the Senate "vvere presented to the preacher, and a copy was requested for the press.. 148 INEQUALITIES IIST WEALTH to tlie improvement and happiness of man, or may we anticipate its removal at some future period, and under some more favorable combination of tlie elements of the social compact ? And again, if we cannot reason- ably look forward to its removal, but are constrained to believe that it is a distinction arising out of the nature of man and the present order of God's provi- dence, can such a conclusion be adduced as an argu- ment against the wisdom and goodness of that great Being who created man, and liatli determined tlie hounds of his habitation f * Thus a very important and inter- esting subject of discourse is suggested to us by the text, and one which I trust will not be deemed inap- propriate to the present occasion. I am aware that it is a difficult and delicate one to treat of, and also that it may require the introduction of topics not generally regarded as within the prov- ince of preachers of th^ Gospel.f As, however, the civil authorities of the State must be supposed to acknowledge the truth and excellency of religion, when they come up to the house of God annually, in solemn form, as the opening act of theii* session, it would seem to be a fit opj^ortunity to exhibit religion in what may be called its temporal aspect, as advancing and sustaining principles essential to the welfare and happiness of civil society. This I conceive it does, when it recognizes and sanctions the principle of in- equality in the distribution of wealth amongst men ; and when it declares, both in express terms, and by * Acts xvii. 26. t See Note A. THE ORDINANCE OF GOD. 149 tlie particular duties it enjoins on the ricli and an the poor, that this is to be acquiesced in as a permanent condition of society. But it may be said, that religion recognizes and sanctions many other things, which, in the present advanced state of knowledge and morals, are either not essential to the welfare of civil society, or else are absolutely detrimental to its true interests ; as, for example, a kingly government, and the condi- tion of slavery. It is incumbent therefore upon the advocate of religion, who believes that the declaration of the text will remain true while this state of proba- tion lasts, to vindicate the Divine Benevolence in this respect ; and to show, that if it is ordained that th£ 'poor shall never cease out of the land^ it is so ordained because such an appointment is essential to the true happiness and progressive improvement of the human family. This will be the object of my discourse, and I respectfully request for it the candid and patient atten- tion of this distino^uished audience. In pursuing my design, I shall, in the riRST place, interpret the broad assertion contained in my text, and suggest some important limitations that may be reasonably prescribed to it. Secondly, I shall endeavor to prove that the in- equality of condition, which it implies, is essential to- the political, the intellectual, and the moral and re- ligious improvement of the human race ; and, Lastly, I shall j)oint out how the more grievous and repulsive circumstances attending upon this con- stitution of the social state may be meliorated, if not entirely removed. 150 LCfEQTJALITIES TN WEALTH I. T/ie 'poor shall never cease out of the land. Is this declaration of tlie inspired Lawgiver, to be re- garded as exclusively applicable to liis own country and people ? or must it be extended to all nations, and to all future periods of time ? We know tliat, up to tlae present moment, these words have been most truly proj^hetic of the condition of civilized man. Under every form of government, and in every varied state of society, distinctions, caused by the unequal distribution of wealth, have existed. Not- withstanding they have been often denounced as unjust and injurious, and efforts have repeatedly been made, both by legislative interference, and during the excitement of political commotions, to remove them; yet all has been unavailing. Nor have we any reason to believe that this condition of our being can be altered by any exertions of man, his own nature remaining what it is, and the arrangements of Divine Providence, in relation to him, continuing unchanged. Whilst one man is weak of body, and another possesses athletic strength ; while the intellect of one is dull and inactive, and that of another bright and vigorous ; while the energies of one are paralyzed by frequent and long-continued sickness, and another is incited to constant activity by uninterrupted and elastic health — so long will the rich and the poor meet together^ in human society; and so long must we acknowledge that the Lord is the Maker of them all.j- These are causes sufficient to produce the effect, * Proverbs, xxii. 2. t Job, i. 22. THE ORDESTANCE OF GOD. 151 setting aside those tliat originate in the vices of men, as dissipated living, prodigality, improvidence, con- trasted with the virtues of temperance, frugality, and prudence. But, notwithstanding the clearest indi- cations that such is the ordinance of an overruling Providence, yet there have never been wanting those who have inveighed against it, and have thus either openly, or by inference, charged God fooUsldy.^ Some, taking counsel of their own benevolent but visionary feelings, and wishing to distribute happiness more equally amongst men, have thought that this could be done by more nearly equalizing their out- ward condition ; others have been incited by a restless impatience under their comparative inferiority, and have hoped to extend their own boundaries by removinrj the ancient landmarlcs ; f others, again, impelled ])y inordinate and unprincipled ambition, have been ever eager to catch the ear and secure the favor of the unthinking multitude, by flattering their ignorant prejudices, and inflaming their unhappy jealousies against those they esteem more favored by fortune than themselves. We need not look to past ages, nor to transatlantic countries, for such examples of enthusiastic and shortsighted benevolence on the one hand, or reckless and unprincipled avarice and ambition on the other. I do not think that in a community as intelligent as our own, and as well grounded in the great principles of moral and religious obligation, we are to aj)prehend any great danger * Proverbs, xxii. 28. t Deut. xxvii. 17. 152 INEQUALITIES EST WEALTH from tlie prevalence of sucli false and pernicious doctrines. Still they should not be permitted to pass unnoticed. They should occasionally be brought forward to keep in general circulation the important considerations by which they are refuted; and they should uniformly be reprobated, not simply because they are speculatively untrue, but because they are at war with the permanent interests and the true happiness of society. This point I shall presently have occasion to notice and illustrate. In the mean time, it is necessary to state more distinctly what we are to understand by the assertion that the poor shall never cease out of the land. Is the human race, then, doomed for ever to groan under the load of evils and miseries heaped upon society, in consequence of exorbitant, heartless, and luxurious wealth, on the one hand, and abject and squalid poverty, on the other? Is the picture of the rich man clothed in puiyle and fine linen., and who fared sumptuously every day^ and the beggar., Lazarus., laid at his gate., full of sores., and desiring to he fed ivith the criimhs which fell from the rich mmi's table '"" — is this picture destined to find its prototype sooner or later in all countries, and in all succeeding genera- tions ? God forbid ! I would not by such an admission, imply a heavy suspicion against the doctrine of a wise and merciful superintending Prov- idence. I draw a far different inference from the actual operations of this Providence, as we read them * Luke, xvi. 19. THE OKDINANCE OF GOD. 153 in the past history and present condition of the human race. I exult in the conviction that the whole tendency of civilized society is to improvement in knowledge, virtue, and happiness. I see the elements in vigorous activity, that are producing this effect, in the spread of the Gospel, the multiplication of the Bible, the diffusion of education, the progress of the temperance reformation, the prevailing conviction that peace is the greatest of earthly blessings to nations, and, last of all, but by no means the least of all, in the increasing attention paid to that valuable science which is yet destined to shed innumerable blessings upon the family of man, Political Economy.*'* While many other evils attendant uj)on the social state are thus to be gradually meliorated, if not entirely removed, I cannot believe that the great and obvious one, now under consideration, will remain untouched. We know that at present there exists a vast difference between nations, in regard to the distribution of wealth amongst their respective inhab- itants. Compare the condition of the humbler classes of society in Italy or Ireland, v\dth that of the sime classes in England, France, or Holland; and, then again, compare the proj)ortions of the rich and poor, and the number of desfrees between their relative situations in these countries, and in our own favored and happy land. The contrast is manifest, and it is produced by causes which men begin to trace out * See Note B. 154 LNEQUALITIES IN WEALTH and understand. This knowledge will be constantly increased by awakened interest and close observation; it will be disseminated by intelligent and philan- thropic minds, and it will be applied more and more by individuals and by corporate and legislative bodies, to alleviating the sufferings of pauperism, and to re- moving altogether the evils of a tolerated mendicity. The poor man will, indeed, still be found in every community, because riches and poverty are relative terms, and indicate no absolute condition. We may reasonably hope, however, that at some future period in the progressive improvement of the human race, such a state as suffering indigence will be unknown. " These conditions, it has been well observed, are essentially distinct and separate. Poverty is often both honoi'able and comfortable ; but indigence can only be pitiable, and is usually contemptil^le. Poverty is not only the natural lot of many in a well con- stituted society, but is necessary in order that a society may be well constituted. Indigence, on the contrary, is seldom the natural lot of a]iy, but is commonly the state into which intemperance and want of j)rudent foresight push poverty; the punishment which the moral government of God inflicts in this world upon thoughtlessness and guilty extravagance. " * Why may we not, with joyful hope, look forward to a state of far greater and far more diffused happi- ness and prosperity, than the present, in reserve for our children's children, if not for ourselves or our * Bishop Sumner's "Records of the Creation." THE ORDESTANCE OF GOD. 155 immediate offspring ? Why may we not even indulge a confident belief, that they will find themselves in a community where depraved and reckless indigence will be unknown, or, where, if observed, it will be regarded as a crime against society, and where neither suffering nor disgrace, nor any idea of unworthy in- feriority will be attached to poverty, — a community in which a man will be called poor, not because he is destitute of the means of a comfortable subsistence — not because rare and far distant opportunities are afforded him of relaxation from severe toil for the purpose of bodily health, rational enjoyment, or mental cultivation — not because he is deprived of the means of giving to his offspring every advantage for education which the development of theii^ faculties may render desirable, — but poor simply by contrast with his neighbor who has been endued with firmer health, or a more active and enterj^rising mind, or who has enjoyed more favorable opportunities for the exercise of his powers, or because these blessings have been bestowed upon his parents, and he has justly inherited the fruits of their successful labors, or because God, by the inscrutable workings of his Providence, and for reasons wise and benevolent, though not obvious to the limited sight of man, has cast down one and lifted up another. For after all we must acknowledge that it is He, the Author of our being, and the Ruler of our destinies, that permits or produces the variety of condition, as well intellectually and physically, as in outward circumstances, that 156 INEQUALITIES IN WEALTH exists amongst men. He raisetli wp the jjoor out of the dust^ and lifteth the needy out of the dunghill^ that he may set him with princes^ even with the princes of his people.'^' Both riches and honor come of thee^ and thou veignest over all ; and in thine hand is power and might ; and in thine hand it is to malce great and to give strength unto all.j- The power of God then acknowledged, we rely upon his goodness, justice and benevolence, to bring to pass iu his own time, and by his own wise ordinances, the desirable changes in the social state to which we have just alluded. But are we led astray by a vain delusion, when we antici|)ate such results ? Is imagi- nation suggesting some idle dream of perfectibility which shall never be realized in the waking existence of man ? We believe not. We may express om* as- surance in the words of the Psalmist when he says, the needy shall not always he forgotten '^ the expectation of the poor shall not perish for ever.\ We find ample encouragement also for our anticipations in such de- scriptions as that of the evangelical prophet when fore- telling the universal peace, ]3rosperity and happiness, that shall be realized upon the earth during the pro- gress of the reign of King Messiah. With righteous- ness shall he judge the poor and reprove with equity for the meek of the earth ; and he shall smite the earth tvith the rod of his mouthy and ivith the hreath of his lips shall he slay the wiched. And righteousness shall he * Psalm cxiii. 7. 1 1. Ohron. xxis. 12. J Psalm ix. 18. THE OKDIlSrANCE OF GOD. 157 the girdle of Ms loins ^ and faithfulness tlie girdle of his reins''^ And tlie effect of tliis equitable and merciful administration of tlie laws by the rulers of the earth under the spiritual influence of the Prince of Peace, will be as represented in the bold figurative language of prophecy, that the wolf shall dwell with the lamh^ and the leopard shall lie down with the hid ; and the calf and the young lion and the failing together^ and a little child shall lead them.j- And they shall not hurt nor destroy in all the holy mountain of the Lord ; for the earth shall he full of the Tcnowledge of the Lord^ as the waters cover the sea.% In such a state of society there will be heard no repining of the poor at the better success of the rich — no secret and corroding envyings will be pent up in their breasts — no outbreaking of mad and unprincipled efforts to reduce all to their own condition ; and, at the same time, there will be no glorying in the distinc- tion that wealth confers, no hoarding it up for selfish gratification ; but all the members of society feeling that its laws and regulations have been just, and have given to each, as far as was practicable, equal oppor- tunities of success, they will know that their respective conditions have been influenced by the pro\ddeuce of God ; and the tendency of this conviction will be to render the poor man patient and contented, the rich humble, charitable, and public spirited. But here it may be demanded, if such a change as this can be effected in the existing relations between * Isaiah xi. 4, 5. t Isaiah xi. 4. J Isaiali xi. 9. 158 INEQUALITIES i:^ WEALTH the ricli and the poor, and if we may reasonably look for it as resulting from the progress of Christian knowl- edge and virtue, why may not a still greater improve- ment be effected ; why may not all inequalities amongst men as to outward condition be removed ; and as we are all the offspring of one common parent, why may we not hope that the human race will in process of time be prepared for an equal distribution of wealth, and that this consummation, so devoutly wished for by many, will be actually realized at the auspicious open- ing of some millennial age ? Why ? Because we believe that, constituted as the world is, such a modi- fication of the social relations would not be practicable, nor if practicable, would it conduce to the virtue and happiness of men as individuals, or to the progress of society at large. Moreover, as far as we can infer the designs of the Creator from the moral and physical capacities he has given to man, and from the theatre on which they are to be exercised, such was never his intention. If it be ftirther demanded, why, in forming the world and its inhabitants, did he expose them to such pitiable and unequal conditions, and make it ne- cessary to their hapj)iness and improvement that they should appear to be treated by theii' common Father with such striking partiality ? — to this objection we shall be ready to reply, when any one will instruct us how to account satisfactorily for the existence of physi- cal and moral evil. Here let me adopt the sentiments of a distinguished author of the present day • " I do not profess to ex- THE OEDINANCE OF GOD. 159 plain wliy tilings were so ordered, tliat any advance- ment at all slioiild be needful ; why mankind were not placed at once in a state of society as Mglily civilized as it was destined ever to be. The reasons for this are probably unfathomable by us in this world. It is sufficient for our present purpose, merely to remark the fact, that the apj)arent design of Providence evi- dently is, the advancement of mankind, not only as individuals, but as communities. Nor again do I pro- fess to explain, why, in so many particular instances, causes have been permitted to operate, more or less, towards the frustration of this general design, and the retardation, or even reversal, of the course of improve- ment. The difficulty in fact is one which belongs, not to this alone, but to every branch of Natural Theology. In every part of the universe we see marks of wise and benevolent design ; and yet we see in many in- stances apparent frustrations of this design ; we see the productiveness of the earth interru]3ted by un- favorable seasons — the structure of the animal frame enfeebled and its functions impaired by disease — and vast multitudes of living beings ex2:)osed, from various causes, to suffering and to premature destruction. In the moral and political world, wars, and civil dissen- sions— tyrannical governments, unwise laws, and all evils of this class, correspond to the inundations, the droughts, the tornadoes, and the earthquakes of the natural world. We cannot give a satisfactory account of either ; we cannot, in short, explain the great dif- ficulty, which, in pro23ortion as we reflect attentively, 160 INEQUALITIES EST WEALTH we shall more and more perceive to be the only difficul- ty in theology, the existence of evil in the universe." "But two things we can accomplish, which are very important, and which are probably all that our present faculties and extent of knowledge can attain to. One is, to perceive clearly that the difficulty in question is of no unequal pressure, but bears equally heavy on Deism and on Christianity, and on the various different interpretations of the Christian scheme ; and consequently can furnish no valid objection to any one scheme of religion in particular. Even Atheism does not lessen our difficulty ; it only alters the character of it. For as the behever in a God is at a loss to account for the existence of evil^ the believer in no God, is equally unable to account for the existence of good ,' or indeed of any thing at all that loears marks of design^'' * Our subsequent reasonings, then, are all to be grounded upon the nature of man and his present condition as we find them. Assuming these positions, and also the great and important one, that the present is only a state of probation, the future life one of retri- bution, all material difficulties are removed ; and we are prepared to contend, that the wise and benevolent designs of Providence in making our probation a moral disci})line, are accomplished by creating those distinc- tions between men that are now under consideration. II. I am thus led to the secojstd paet of my subject, in which I shall endeavor to prove, that inequality of * Archbishop Whately. THE OEDINANCE OF GOD. 161 condition amongst men in relation to wealth, is essen- tial to the political, the intellectual, and the moral and religious improvement of the human race. Be it specially observed, that my argument is found- ed upon the fact of the race of men being brought into the world with the greatest possible difference in their physical and intellectual endowments, and their exist- ing in a state where both physical and moral evil are experienced. Upon such premises I contend, that the unequal distribution of wealth is not only a necessary and unavoidable consequence, but that it is essential to producing the greatest amount of knowledge, virtue and happiness. 1. We will first examine into the effect of this prin- ciple upon the political condition of man. By political condition, I mean the relations in which he is placed as a social being. Men have heretofore lived, and, in some remote and barbarous situations, do at present live together without any experience of the distinctions created by wealth. We also have some knowledge of communities where these distinctions have been re- moved by legislative interference. But no one con- versant with this page in the history of our race, would venture to draw from thence an illustration of the benefits of a system of equalized property, except under the influence of wild romance, or of blind de- votion to a theory.* Let us, however, for a moment direct our attention * Kousseau, Godwin, and all this race of writers fall under one or other of these conditions 11 162 INEQUALITIES IN WEALTH to two opposite states of society, one probably the most enlightened, in which the princij)le of equalization was ever deliberately, and for any continued period of time, put to the test ; the other approaching as near as pos- sible to what is sometimes called the state of nature. Let us glance at the social relations as they existed in the rej)ublic of Lacedsemon, and as they now exist amongst the native tribes of our own country. Who would consent to place himself under the laws of Lycurgus, and for the sake of the equal distri- bution of property which he effected, exj^ose himself and his oflfepring to a destitution of domestic comforts, intellectual refinement, and all that softens, expands, gladdens and elevates the human heart, such as Sparta was subject to at its best estate ? True, the sons of Lacedgemon were brave and hardy, and nobly for a time did they maintain the freedom of their land ; for to this object, and this alone, all their physical and moral education was directed, and in reference to this, and this alone, the whole system of their policy was constructed. But it was only freedom from a foreign yoke that they enjoyed ; their internal bondage was cruel in the extreme. It kept in chains, and beneath an iron sceptre, the noblest faculties and affections of the soul. And, moreover, in order to secure their own selfish independence, and at the same time maintain the false and forced principle that their misguided legislator introduced, they kept in the most abject slavery thousands of their fellow-beings. To perform the various ofiaces necessary to the comfortable sub- THE ORDINANCE OF GOD. 163 sistence of man, and sucli as are accomplislied easily, naturally, and humanely, tlirougli tlie operation of tlie varied conditions of society that civilization encourages and demands, the forty thousand Spartans were obliged to hold in subjection, and live in the di^ead of, four hundred thousand slaves.'^ So much for an equal di- vision of property amongst what is called a civilized people. But this principle is illustrated in another manner, as operating fi'eely and without constraint amongst the native tribes of our own country. And who, to pur- chase their freedom, would assume the manifold evils of their condition — its wandering life, its uncertainty, its exposure to constant danger, and to frequent and horrible famine, to say nothing of its utter privation of sciences and the arts, and all the social enjoyments of civilized man ? And, moreover, look at their j)resent wretched condition — how fast are they dwindling away. And what is the cause ? Not so much the vices that contact with civilized hfe has unhappily exposed them to, as the want of that industry, enter]3rise, forecast, self-denial, which the great principle of holding proper- ty in severalty always produces in a community of men. And this principle, left to its free operation for any considerable period of time, will inevitably produce inequality of condition. * These numbers may not be accurate, but the proportions cannot be far from the truth. They are stated as given by Bishop Sumner, in his " Records of Creation." Miiller's History and Antiquities of the Doric Race, translated by Tufnell and Lewis, Vol. II., gives full Information upon this and aU other points connected with the social condition of Sparta. 164 INEQUALITIES IN WEALTH But it may be said, tliat in countries where tlie distinctions caused by property exist, and where they are the most obvious, the greater proportion of the in- habitants are subjected to a bondage not less grievous than that of the Helots in Sparta, and are exposed to miseries, uncertainties and privations, as great as those endured by our Indian tribes. Witness Turkey, Rus- sia, parts of Italy, and Ireland. I reply, that in the first place, my argument is not responsible for the con- sequences following unjust and arbitrary distinctions, the remains of feudal oppression ; in the next j)lace, it requires that property should not only be free to follow its natural course, but also that the rights of property should be sacredly preserved ; and in the last place, the argument may reasonably ask a just allowance in any particular case, as in that of Ireland, for bad and oj)pressive acts of legislation and excess of jDopulation. With these limitations, I would contend that inequality of circumstances amongst a people, always produces the most desirable results in the reciprocal action of the social relations. We know that the whole tendency of things in a community is to such inequality, and that it requires violence on the part of governments to ob- struct this tendency, and, moreover, that amongst the freest, the most intelligent and the happiest nations of the earth, the distinctions thus caused have always existed. From these facts, which are indisputable, we might be authorized to infer the truth of the great principle we contend for. But follow out the consequences resulting from THE OEDIJSTAlSrCE OF GOD. 165 diversity in the condition of men, and you will see ac- cumulated reasons to assent to and admire this ordi- nation of Providence. No one who has for a moment thought of the subject can doubt, that in order to the comfort even, of civilized society, very many different occupations must be performed, and must be carried on at the same time, — ^lands must be tilled, houses must be built, fabrics for clothing must be made, implements of various kinds must be formed, and vessels must be constructed and navigated. It is equally obvious that the di\dsion of labor is essential to giving full effect to these occupations. In addition to these employments, there are various other trades and professions to be filled, and also different offices for the due maintenance of the laws — and without laws no civilized community can hold together. If you oblige every man to be his own mechanic, farmei', manufacturer and navigator, and to do his share of the magistracy upon some prin- ciple of rotation, it is obvious that we can none of us enjoy as many or as great advantages as we do under the present system ; and it is equally obvious, that all these various occupations receiving only the divided attention of an individual, must very fast go backward, and the knowledge and dexterity which men now pos- sess in their various employments in proportion to the undi^dded attention they give to them, must be con- stantly and rapidly diminished. I take it for granted that no man, even in very moderate circumstances, would choose to relinquish the comforts and conve- niences he now possesses in his humble habitation. 166 IKEQUALITIES IN WEALTH He would not like to be deprived of liis glazed win- dows whicli, let in tlie liglit wliile tliey exclude tlie wind and the cold, or of the various domestic utensils of ii'on and earthenware in which his simple meals are cooked and served up, or the different fabrics of linen, cotton, silk, woollen and leather which supply himself and his family with clothing ; nor would he choose to exchange his convenient tools of trade for the stone axe and the flint knife of the Indian. Yet such would be the inevitable result were the benign and admirable principle of the division of labor to be banished from society. How then is it to be maintained — how ? but by holding forth to every man a stimulus to activity, ingenuity and enterprise, in the hope of bettering his condition. Many employments essential to the exist- ence of civilized society are yet so unpleasant in them- selves, that no one would undertake them but from the excitement of such a motive. But were all men to be made equal, and were they obliged, by the laws of society, to continue so, there could be no such animat- ing impulse to the exertion of our bodily or mental powers. Who is so ignorant of himself and of human nature as not to know that until we have secured the kind assistance of habit, labor of every descrij^tion is irksome, and that the hope of advancing ourselves is the exciting principle that overcomes our natural love of ease, and sharpens all the human faculties. Strike this out of the social state and we should deteriorate year by year, till we dropped down to the degi^aded level of savages. Now this important, this essential THE OKDDfAlSrCE OF GOD. 16*7 principle cannot subsist without the distinctions of rich and poor. Again, be it observed, that it is not now a question with us, or with any set of men capable of discussing the subject before us, whether the distinction of rich and poor shall be introduced. It actually exists, and can only be removed by violence. Were the option given by the All-wise Creator to some set of men forming a new community, who were endowed with the same intellectual qualities and moral affections that we possess, but destitute of the knowledge and experience we have of the social state, I think it likely that, with the exception of some few ardent and ambitious spirits, they would say " let us all be equal." There would be something grateful to the human heart in the apparent justice and benevolence of such an arrangement, and knowing nothing of the comforts and advantages of ci\dlization, they would have nothing to regret, and they might live on in a state of mental apathy and mere animal enjoyment. But such a choice cannot now be given ; we have acquired the knowledge and tasted of the comforts of civilized life. Are we willing to give them up ? And for what ? For an artificial equahty in the goods of fortune alone, — for do what we will, we cannot make om^selves equal in intellect, in health, or in personal quahties, as beauty, strength and activity, — for a fancied advantage, which would prove in the event to be an awful curse and a hateful condition of existence. Who that has enjoyed the delightful 168 ENEQUALITIES E!^ WEALTH change of prospect, and felt the invigorating effects of varied exercise over hill and dale, would choose to be condemned to walk for ever after over one level, dull, unbroken plain ? Who that has experienced the animating impulse of successful enterprise, and has toiled under the bright and encouraging hope of being richer, wiser, and happier, day by day, and year by year, would give up this wakeful and exciting life, for one of unchanging, sleepy mediocrity? Give us the opportunity of bettering our condition, and we readily take with it all the hazards of failure and disappoint- ment. There is hardly an individual now on the stage of active life, who would he willing to come to a full stand at this moment, and never again be permitted to move. This is proved in the experience of every day, in the conduct of all around us. The universal impulse is forward, and if it produces some evils in exciting ambition, euvyings, jealousies, dishonesty, and strife, it calls into existence a thousand-fold more blessings in the bright and varied intelligences, the hardy and ennobling virtues, the dauntless and per- severing energies of our nature. Those, therefore, who would throw down the distinctions created by wealth, may justly be denounced as the deadly enemies of all human enterprise. 2. Nor are these distinctions in society less essen- tial to its intellectual improvement. Knowledge, we may venture to say, is now prized by all men. Even those who are supposed to defend most warmly the levelling system, are yet the professed advocates of THE ORDESTANCE OF GOD. 169 knowledge. Indeed, who, in tlie present day, would venture to stand up and deny, or even question, the reality of the benefits thus conferred upon man ? Now knowledge has heretofore been acquired and accumulated entirely through the operation of the principle of the di\dsion of labor. Were it not for this constitution of society, we could make no further advances in science and the arts, and should doubtless very rapidly lose what we now possess. It will not be disj)uted that we have vast advantages over men in the uncivilized state. Look, for a moment, at the contrast between us and them. They have not well constructed habitations, filled with the conveniences and comforts of living; well cultivated fields and a profusion of vegetables and fruits, with a constant succession of new and improved varieties ; their agri- culture makes no advances, nor their implements of husbandry, war, or the chase, from father to sou, — they have no roads, bridges, railways, to facilitate the intercourse of men, and the exchange of commodities ; when fatigued with labor, or confined by inclement weather, they are furnished with no intellectual em- ployment and pleasure in the printed volume ; they have no weekly and daily visitor in the form of a newspaper, coming in to tell them what is going for- ward in every part of the habitable globe — ^their means of storing up the wisdom of past ages, and the events that have affected their political relations, are only uncertain tradition, aided by few imperfect and perishing monuments. In these respects, how im- ITO no:QTJALiTrEs in wealth measurable tlie distance between tliem and us ? And why ? Because tliey are destitute of science and the arts. And why are they thus destitute? Because they have never adopted the principle of the division of labor. And why has not this great improvement been adoj^ted by them ? Because land has not been held in severalty by them, and they have not been excited to accumulation, by the unequal distribution of wealth. 3. When we take up the argument in favor of our position, on the ground that this state of things in a community, promotes the moral and religious im- provement of the human race, we have a still greater advantage on our side. It has been contended by * one of the ablest, and certainly the most eloquent of the advocates of the levelling system, that if all con- ditions of men should be reduced to an equality, the great incitements and opportunities to commit crimes would be cut off. There would be no fraud, theft, injustice, violence, or avarice, when all men possessed the same proj)ortion of the comforts and conveniences of life. Now this statement we believe to be utterly fallacious, and we rej)ly to it, that there could not possibly be a state of society where there existed no perceptible difference between men as to their posses- sions. The field of one would be a little more fertile, or a little better watered ; the cave or hut of another would be more commodious, or better situated; another would possess newer or better implements of * Rousseau. THE ORDINANCE OF GOD. 171 husbandry or tlie chase, than his neighbor. Or, if in these respects they could by any possibility be made and kept exactly alike, they must inevitably differ in other particulars not less essential to happi- ness— one would be healthier, handsomer, stronger, or blessed with a more numerous and promising ofifepring than his neighbor. Now, while the nature of man remains what it is, these circumstances would furnish abundant occasions for the development of its evil propensities. Theft, fraud, or envying, are the same intrinsically, and produce the same evil effects upon the moral constitution, whether excited by great or small things. To accomplish the good anticipated, the change must be produced in the individual minds and consciences of men ; no human power can so alter their external state as to effect it. • Besides, gi^anting that it would follow as a result from the levelling system, that occasions for crime would be lessened, is it not ob^dous that at the same time the opportunities for the cultivation and display of the noblest virtues that adorn our nature, would be cut off! What could we know of mtegrity, perseverance, industry, generosity, beneficence, humility, patience, self-denial ? That adversity is the school of virtue, has been the favorite maxim of the wisest and best even of the heathen philosophers. And it is a fact that all those gi'eat writers who have treated of the subject of virtue, discussed the nature and obligations of duty, and unfolded the moral and intellectual capabilities of our nature, have lived in ages and in countries, 172 INEQUALITIES Ltf WEALTH where distinctions in tlie outward condition of men, and the painful consequences that follow them, have been most marked. Indeed, this state of society has furnished them with the means of observation, and has suggested to them the great principles of morals, and exhibited to them these principles in action for their delineation. Were the circumstances of men equalized, their intellectual and moral faculties would become feeble and sluggish, and the state of the moral world would be analogous to that of our phj^sical earth, were the whole reduced to one unvaried plain. The whole atmosphere then being one dense, unwhole- some vapor, the whole land, one dead and dreary level, the whole ocean, one waveless and stagnant pool, our world would be fit only for those huge mis- shapen creatures, the next remove from senseless matter, such as geologists have discovered, and such as existed ere the Almighty Architect broke up the fountains of the great deep, and caused the mountains and hills to pierce the skies and condense the vapors for refreshing showers, the healthful winds to blow about them, the joyous rivers to pour down from their summits, carrying verdure and fruitfulness to the humble valleys beneath, and thus rendering it capable of supporting active life in varied and count less forms of beauty and utility to man. If we turn our attention to the enlarged sphere of duty that Christianity has opened to man, and consider the elevated, moral and intellectual character which it points out to him, and for which it is designed ^ THE ORDINANCE OF GOD. 11 S to prepare him, it is more clearly demonstrable, tliat equality of condition was never intended to be the element in wliicli tlie Cliristian was to be trained. There was, indeed, for a short period, and amongst a few of the early disciples of the Saviour, a community of goods ; but this arose from local and temporary causes. It was never required or recommended, and it never prevailed. It is repugnant even to the spirit of the Gospel, which demands the cultivation of tempers of mind, such as charity, self denial, humility in prosperous circumstances, patience in adversity; and these can be cultivated only in a state of society where tJie rich and the poor meet together^ and where it is devoutly acknowledged that the Lord is maker of them all. As, however, the sincere, the pious, and consistent Christian, can never be found amongst those who would do violence to the order of God's providence, and for a selfish advantage or a proble- matical good, undermine the foundation of all social institutions, we need push this part of the argument no further. The unequal distribution of wealth, then, we beheve to be not only an unalterable consequence of the nature of man, and the state of being in which he is placed, but also the only system by which his happiness and improvement can be promoted in this state of being. We do not deny that there are exols attending it, and that in some countries it has been fostered by artificial and injurious regulations, until it has become oppressive and unreasonable. The 174 INEQUALITIES IIST WE.ILTH principle itself is fundamentally true and just, but it may be, and often lias been, pushed to sucli an ex- treme, as to be detrimental to tlie best interests of society. When, in any country, there are only two classes, the very rich and the very poor; or when the tendency of political regulations is to produce this effect, as is the case under all aristocratical govern- ments, the consequences must be bad. The middling class, as it is sometimes called, that is, the portion of the community that lies between the two extremes of riches and poverty, is its strength, intelligence and virtue. Of course we may infer, that that country is the most prosperous and happy, which has the greatest proportion of this class of citizens. It is one e\ddence, and we may assert it to be the strongest, of the value of our public institutions, that they have produced this effect, and that in no country on the face of the earth, is the middling class as relatively large, as in our own. How then are we to maintain ourselves in this enviable condition ? Or if, as is feared by some, we are gradually declining from it, and indi\dduals amongst us are becoming too rich, by the accumulation of capital, and others getting to be too poor, and threatening to become burdens upon society, how are we to remedy the evil and prevent its recurrence? These are momentous questions. Can we accomplish the object, and keep the happy medium through legislative interference, by checking the increase of capital, by forcing the wealthy under a process of unequal taxation, to give up a portion of their super- THE OEDESTANCE OF GOD. 175 abundance, or by an agrarian system of tlie division of property? None but a madman, an ignorant en- thusiast, or an unprincipled demagogue, could propose this latter remedy. Nor will the others be tolerated for a moment by sound and enlightened judgment. As to an equal division of property by some act of legalized violence, it would avail just as much as a child's play in drawing squares and circles ujDon a sandy beach ; the returning tide of human passions, enterprise, and industry, (and return it would as cer- tainly as ocean ebbs and flows,) would sweep the whole away, and leave the surface marked as before by unequal ridges. If we would save the structure of society from utter dissolution, maintain inviolate our civil and religious liberties, and preserve ourselves from j)olitical dangers, awful and incalculable, let us most sacredly guard the rights of j^roperty. This is the palladium of nations, this is the pledge of theii* improvement in all the arts that civilize and adorn our nature, this is their security for advancement in morals and religion. Once touch the rights of property, let it be felt that men are impeded and harassed in their eftbrts to obtain it, that its posses- sion is insecure, and that portions of it may be taken from them by unequal taxation, and you immediately stop enterprise, and with enterprise the j^i'ogi'ess of knowledge, and with the progress of knowledge, that also of virtue — and then where is the happiness of such a community? It must be torn by intestine commotion, or if this is kept under by the military 176 INEQUALITIES IN WEALTH arm of a strong and despotic executive, it must pre- pare to see its commerce sicken and die, its agricultm^e decay, its manufactories silent and in ruins, its schools deserted, its roads impassable and infested with banditti, and all its institutions relapsing into a state of Turkish barbarism. What then ? are there no precautions to be taken against the evils which arise from the unequal distri- bution of wealth, and no remedies which may be applied to alleviate or remove these evils, when they begin to exhibit themselves ? Yes, doubtless there are; and a brief consideration of some of them is intended in the third, and last part of my discourse, in which it was proj^osed, III. To point out how the more grievous and re- pulsive circumstances attending inequality of condition in a community in regard to wealth, may be meliorated, if not entirely removed. The leading objects to which the attention of wise and philanthroj)ic men has been directed, and which should now more universally awaken the strenuous solicitude of the friends of humanity, are three ; the promotion of industry; the extension and improve- ment of the means of education ; and the dissemination of Christian truth. In all these departments, much may be effected by individuals, more, perhaps, than by legislatm^es. An active and intelligent mind, ioibued with sound princi]3les, and warmed with true benevolence, can accomplish great things. By such noble spirits. THE OEDINANCE OF GOD. 177 governments even are enliglitened, are roused to a sense of their duty, and are instructed in its nature. How much has already been accomplished by them ! All great princij^les by which the welfare of the human race is promoted, are struck out as it were, in private meditation ; and the fii'e thus kindled in solitude, burns up like a beacon light upon a lonely mountain, and on the neighboring eminences there are ever men upon the watch, and they catch the bright signal, and repeat it till it is communicated in rapid succession to every hill-top, and at last the deep and distant valleys glow with the glad reflection from a thousand intellectual fires. Knowledge thus produced and widely disseminated, must reach, and must influ- ence, and idtimately control public bodies of delegated authority. A great encouragement this to intelligent and benevolent individuals, who have the good of their country and the human family, at heart. Let them proceed, and by their individual labors, and by their associated efibrts in societies, excite theii* fellow- beings to industry, knowledge, and religion, and great shall be their reward, — ^great in the applause of the good and wise of the earth, greater in the approbation of conscience, but unspeakably the greatest of all, in that glorious kingdom where tliey that he wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament ; and they that turn many to righteousness as the sta/rs, for ever and ever. '"^ 1. The first point to be looked at is the promotion * Daniel xii. 3. 12 178 i]o:qualities est wealth of industry. Private example, tlie animating effect of fairs, exhibitions, and rewards, held out by agricul- tural and other kindred institutions, have accomplished much, and very much more may reasonably be anti- cipated from these sources. But legislative bodies should by no means be indifferent to this important subject. They can at least encourage industry, by abstaining from throwing any thing in the way of its free exercise. How much, or what they can do by positive encouragements, is a disputed question, and one of very difficult solution. The desire of bettering his condition, is an active principle in man ; and his intelligence m this respect is naturally so clear, that he wants but opportunity to exercise his powers, and the full assurance that all which his honest exertions produce will be secured to him, and every thing will be accomplished that we can reasonably desire. Now in our own happy country, every man enjoys this glorious assurance. And never, oh never, may the day, the dreadful day, arrive, when the poorest of the citizens of these United States can justly say that he is oppressed by the rich ; or when the richest can for a moment doubt, whether or not his well-earned and legally obtained treasures shall be wrested from him by popular violence, or shall subject him to un- rio-hteous and illeo^al exactions ! Now we are safe in the security of the rights of property. God pre- serve to us and to our childi^en for ever this inestima- ble blessing ! But as regards a free and full oppor- tunity given to every man to exert his powers. THE OEDESTANCE OF GOD. 179 and employ his capital, have we yet arrived at an equally permanent and prosperous state ? I fear not. How to reconcile the entire freedom of commercial en- terprise, wMch is of unspeakable importance to tlie advancement of such a country as ours in wealth, intel- ligence, and the arts of life, with the encouragement of domestic industry, which is a paternal duty that every citizen has a right to demand from the govern- ment under which he lives, is a grave and difficult problem. It is obvious that we have not yet solved it. But I dare not touch upon the higher questions to which such a discussion would lead. There are too many interested in it, and too much at stake to allow it to slumber for a month or even a day. I may, how- ever, be permitted to turn my attention to those who have not, perhaps, so many to advocate their cause — I mean what are called the workino^ classes. I do. not like or approve the appellation, for it suggests a dis- tinction between the members of a community, which does not in reality exist. The merchant who exerts the thought and plies the pen of a busy correspond- ence, labors as hard as the farmer at the plough ; and the professional man, and the man of study, works as painfully, and for as many hours as the humblest me- chanic. I adopt the term, however, in compHance with custom. Now, how shall the working classes in a com- munity be stimulated to industry ? There is but one way. Promote all measures that are calculated to secure to them high and certain wages. I confess that I most sincerely rejoice, when I hear of measures or events, 180 INEQUALITIES IN WEALTH the eflect of wliicli is to raise tlie price of any labor whatever, provided always that illegal and irrespon- sible combinations and meetings are uniformly to be deprecated by the friends of justice and good order. The raising the amount of wages in any country by a judicious and equitable process, is the most feasible, the most natural, the most unexceptionable mode of remov- ing the painful distinctions created by wealth. When the portion of a community employed in manual labor is well paid, of course it will be well fed, conveniently lodged, and comfortably clothed. It is then prepared to become constantly more intelligent. It will abstain from low habits and sensual recreations. Its demand will be for purer and more refined pleasures. It will learn prudence and forecast, and will see that industry and economy in health, and in early life, will secure comfort and independence in sickness and in old age. And it will be taught by frequent and striking exam- ples, that the rich and the poor are travelling one com- mon road, and are constantly passing and repassing each other, the one often ascending the hill with pain- ful and slow steps, the other going down with a rapid and headlong descent ; and that the barriers and obsta- cles we meet with in our upward progress, are fre- quently placed there by our own fault or folly. The working classes in a community thus enjoying all the substantial comforts of life, experiencing the rewards of industry and the excitement of accumulation, relish- ing intellectual pleasures and the pure satisfaction of virtuous conduct, will they not sensibly feel that they THE OEiDIlSrANCE OF GOD. 181 have a deep pledge in the political fabric ; and will they not be prepared to guard it with jealous care ; and will they not be far superior to the romantic follies and insidious devices of those who would tear away its very foundation, security of property ? Yes, most assuredly. And therefore, every man in the com- munity has a solemn interest in increasing the gains, and thus elevating the condition of the working classes. Whatever be his occupation, or the employment of his capital, he should feel even a personal interest in giving efficiency to such measures. Should it be the case, which is not however at all likely, that his own profits are somewhat diminished, let him nevertheless remem- ber, that if a small stream is diverted, it renders the great reservoir more secure. But if those who think they own all the waters, and can control all the privi- leges, will I'esist with a determined and jealous care the forming of any outlet, let them not vainly imagine that their embankments will stand for ever. If they do not burst by the superincumbent weight, the hand of violence will undermine them, and they will one day rush down in precipitous rain. But how are wages to be kept up without protection from compe- tition with foreign, tax-ground, and pauper-eaten na- tions ? And, if you protect against the introduction of their fabrics, how can you protect against the influx of their ignorant, needy, and worthless population, coming in to compete with the earnings of your own lawful born children, and of course taking the bread from their mouths ? But I touch on dangerous and 182 lE^EQALITIES EST WEALTH sliaking ground, and feel that I have not knowledge of the sound places for the feet to stand on, or skill, or strength to force my way through the dark and tangled forest that broods over this as yet impervious swamp. I entertain the fullest confidence, however, in the principle itself, and would follow fearlessly to where it leads. Ijstdustry should be encouraged by main- TAINES^G WAGES OF ALL KTNDS AT A LIBERAL STAJ^DARD. But then, on the other hand, men must be left to theii' own energies, and must understand and feel that they must rely upon their own exertions for support, and that there is nowhere any generous hand, or well endowed institution, to pamper them in idleness and vice. No one thing has tended more to aggravate the evils caused by the existing distinction between the rich and the poor, than the well meant efforts made by the one to alleviate the miseries of the other. By an unenlightened and perverted liberality, the extent of pauperism has been increased, and its miseries aggra- vated. It is now time for us to make a broad distinc- tion between the means by which real and inevitable distress is to be relieved, and those injudicious attempts which operate as a bounty to encourage the idle and dissolute. It is the duty of all who wish to exercise a genuine philanthropy, to examine rigidly the tendency of every institution for whose support they are called upon to contribute, and to question very closely every single applicant for charity. Every sum given to the idle and dissolute beggar, is so much lost to the pur- poses of true benevolence ; and, in addition to this, it THE OEDINANCE OF GOD. 183 is SO much given to increase the evils of mendicity. So with charitable institutions, if their tendency be, as is sometimes the case, to afford an anticipated asylum to those who, by indolence and vice, have reduced themselves to distress, then all that goes to support such institutions increases the very evils they were de- signed to remedy. This indeed is a very perplexing as well as important subject to treat of, and we have hardly yet obtained a sufficient amount of facts and observations to direct us to positive results. Amongst ourselves, however, we have the satisfaction of believ- ing that the mistakes committed have been very few, the good accomplished very great. Our almshouses, which are houses of industry^ our disj)ensaries to give medicine and attendance to the sick poor, our hospitals to receive them when suffering from casualties or from chronic or violent diseases, our asylums to protect their fatherless and motherless offspring, our provident insti- tutions to beget in them the spirit of economy and to husband for them its results, and in our chief cities a board of visitors and ministers at large, to instruct and comfort them, and to relieve their temporal wants with a discriminating benevolence — all these we must regard as most praiseworthy institutions, and most unexcep- tionable modes of lessening the evils flowing from the unequal distribution of wealth. 2. Another means of alleviating these evils, is by improving and diffusing education. You may remember the forcible remark of one of the most eloquent men and distinguished statesmen of 184 HCEQUALITIES EST WEALTH the past age — that "education is the cheap defence of nations." * I would adoj^t and enlarge upon it, and say that it is their defence, not merely from external foes, by leading them to fight valiantly for that be- loved country whom they acknowledge to be the author of their intellectual as well as physical being, but their defence also from inward danger, arising from corrupt principles, vicious practices, pernicious maxims of government, and prevailing ignorance, that can easily be wrought upon, and made the tool of wicked and ambitious demagogues. Were the people of a country generally well instructed, for example, in sound principles of political economy, is it not obvious that a most favorable influence would be exerted upon their habits, and also upon the acts of their legisla- ture ? And not only so, could there any danger arise from the false, but plausible maxims of those who talk so loudly about equalizing the condition of man? Would not the fallacy of all such doctrines be at once understood, and those who dared to advance them, be at once detected and shunned as the worst enemies to theii' country and their race ? But once give to the poor man an insight into the structure of civilized society, and into the principles by the operation of which the comforts, the intelligence, and the whole well-being of a community, are produced and pre- served, and he would feel that his own safety and happiness are no less involved than those of the rich, in maintaining inviolate the rights of property. He * Burke. THE OEDINANCE OF GOD. 185 would see that tlie levelling principle once introduced, although a very small amount might be for a time added to his income, yet even this could not last, for the stimulus to indi\'idual accumulation taken away, the capital of a country could not grow, but must be diminished, and every one's share would of course be lessened. He would see also, that he who talks about the danger, the tyranny, the cruelty of capital, talks folly or wickedness, and argues as much to the pur- pose as the inhabitant of Egypt would do, who, when the Nile overflows, should inveigh against those who providently enclose a portion of the fruit-bearing waters in reservoirs, to be cautiously and timely let out, when the river has disappeared, and the lands are becoming dry, and the vegetation begins to be parched with drought. With the reduction or loss of capital, manufactories must cease ; all works of public improvement must be put an end to ; the whole com- munity must, step by step, go backward ; and instead of the comforts which the poor man has around him, and the degree of intelligence he enjoys, and the hope of bettering his condition by which he is animated to exertion, he must at last drop down to an ignorant, comfortless, and hopeless state of existence. Yes ! it can be proved to a demonstration, that only the worthless and depraved members of a community, could gain any thing by a general division of property ; and even their advantage would be only momentary, for the same wasteful and negligent habits and vicious morals would soon reduce them to want again. Now 186 IJSIEQTJALITIES IN WEALTH education alone can produce this enliglitening of the public mind. We have done much in this glorious cause, as indi\'iduals, and as a body politic, but more, very much more remains for us to do in both capaci- ties. The system of instruction, in our public schools, is by no means what it should be. It is neither thorough enough, nor extensive enough. I am not of the opinion maintained by some, that it is sufficient for those who depend for subsistence upon manual labor, to be instructed simply in the common branches of education. No, I would use all exertion to impart to them every poAver of knowledge, and every delight of literature. I would make for them intellectual pleasures as common as the air they breathe, and as free to them as to any other class of persons in the community. I would allow of no artificial and impas- sable barrier between men, and no distinction but that which intelligence and moral worth produce. I see not why science, letters, and the mollifying arts, may not be the common property of the farmer and me- chanic, with the professional man and the merchant. And if they enjoy a community of pleasures, and have common to^^ics of conversation in their occasional in- tercourse, and find that the same books, and the same ennobling pursuits are open to them all, will they not be drawn to each other by a common feeling, and will not all painful and repulsive contrasts between them be soon done away ? Then we shall hear no more about those unjust and injurious distinctions between working men, and those who do not labor with their THE ORDINAlSrCE OF GOD. 18 Y hands. All will know that intellectual labor is, at least, as wearying to tlie flesh, and as exhausting to the human faculties, as manual labor. As I before said, the invidious distinction thus attempted to bo made, is utterly groundless, and is calculated only to excite unhappy jealousies between classes of men, whose interest is a common one, and who should be drawn together by the closest sympathies of brother- hood. But in addition to enlarged opportunities, ample time should be allowed to what are called the work- ing classes, for the cultivation of their minds. Manual labor should never be permitted to occupy the whole of 'a man's existence, that is not spent in sleep and refection, nor should it ever be carried to undue fatigue or exhaustion. What I mean to say is, that men should not be made, nor should they permit themselves to be made, drudges and slaves. They are intellectual beings, and they must vindicate theii- title to this character, by demanding sufiicient time and bodily strength, and unexhausted mental powers, to improve the intellect day by day. He is an enemy to the true interests of his race, who would wish to see his fellow-beings w^orked till they have no desire but to eat and retire to stupid repose, and again wake, and labor, and eat, and be again exhausted, till sleep be- comes the first wish of nature — and meantime the mind lies fallow, or is overrun with weeds — the immortal mind, that places the humblest mechanic on a level wdth the princes of the earth, and gives him poAvers, 188 ESrEQUALITIES IN WEALTH hopes, and lofty enjoyments, that money or station cannot secure, and that poverty, except the most ab- ject, cannot take away. * 3. But the most effectual alle\dation of the evils attendant upon the unequal distribution of wealth, is to be anticipated from the dissemination of the truths of the Gosj)el. Christianity has a specific ac- tion in lessening the evil complained of; for, by pro- moting industry, sobriety, integrit}', and all the habits that advance individual prosperity, it lessens the number of the poor : so much so, that in a community of sincere, devoted Christians, we might be sure that suffering indigence would be unknown. It could never proceed from idleness or profligate habits ; and sickness or unavoidable misfortunes would be relieved as soon as known. But besides its specific action, as we may term it, in lessening the relative lumbers of the rich and poor, it would remove all the painful con- sequences of these distinctions. For teaching clearly as it does, that this world is only a preparation for another and a better, and that in reference to this great purpose, it has been formed and fitted to be a place of moral discipline, men would acquiesce in the wisdom and mercy of such appointments. If blessed with abundance, they would use it as stewards of God in promoting the welfare of their fellow-creatures ; if suffering comparative privations, they would derive from them the discipline of patience and resignation. All would feel assured that these distinctions are to * See Note C. TUE OKDIFANCE OF GOD. 189 terminate here, and are to pass away with sublunary things ; and all being, therefore, principally anxious to place their treasures where their hearts would then be, pride, avarice, and luxury, on the one hand, envy, fraud, and repining, on the other, would be done away. Christianity is the bountiful dispenser of social blessings, the merciful healer of social evils. Those, therefore, who are laboring, planning and contributing to disseminate the truths of the Gospel, are not merely seeking the future and eternal salvation of men, though this is and should be their chief object, but they are carrying into effect the most certain and efficient plans for improving their temporal condition. Christianity will not make men all equally rich, or equally exalted in station, any more than it will cause a perfect re- semblance between them intellectually and physically ; but it can, and it will, meliorate the evils which flow from this state of things, because these evils, after all, are not inherent in the circumstance of inequality of condition, but in the temper of mind with which men view it, and submit to it. Now Christianity was de- signed expressly to operate upon this temper, to renew and to purify it, to give it spirituality, and to endow it with virtues for time, and with bright hopes and ample preparations for eternity. In submitting the subject, thus discussed, to my distinguished and respected hearers, I have the satis- faction of believing, that there is no community in which the important principles it involves will be more readily understood and received. And may I 190 IlSrEQUALITIES IN WEALTH, ETC. not, in conclusion, be permitted to express my convic- tion, that there is no portion of the habitable earth that has heretofore more happily illustrated the benign operation of these principles, and to offer up my fer- vent prayers, that they may never be invaded or destroyed by misguided benevolence, unprincipled ambition, or the headstrong folly of political factions. NOTES. NOTE A, P. 148. "Why should not ministers of religion, as well as the other members of the community, take a lively interest in those studies that relate to civil society, and unfold the principles upon which its advancement and happiness in temporal things mainly depend ? But not to the jjliysical condition of man does the science of Political Economy, properly considered, have sole or chief reference ; his moral and intellectual im- provement is deeply involved in almost every discussion connected with it. Moreover, Christianity is eminently the religion of civilized man, and will only consent to live and flourish in connection with civilization. It sets in motion all the elements that improve the social condition, and, recipro- cally, is itself advanced or retarded by the movements of the community into which it is introduced. To be convinced of this, one need only read the admirable arguments and illus- trations, that the intelligent and philanthropic James Doug- lass, of Cavers in Scotland, has brought forward ; especially those contained in his little work, which cannot be too well known or too generally perused among Christians, " Hints on Missions." That Political Economy is a science in a high degree interesting and valuable to the philanthropist and the Christian, as well as to the politician, is now felt and ac- knowledged by some of the most pious and eminent divines. The distinguished Dr. Chalmers has given it his serious notice ; and although we are greatly indebted to him for awakening attention to an important subject, and for valuable sngges- tions in his " Christian and Civic Economy of Large Towns," yet we cannot think that he has treated of Political Economy with his usual discrimination or intellectual power. In the Established Church of the sister nation, there is also a Divine justly entitled to our gratitude, for the efficiency with which 192 NOTES. he has directed liis powerful and sagacious mind to this field of intellectual labor. I refer to the present Archbishop of Dublin, Dr. Whatelj. His Lectures on Political Economy while Professor of this department in the University of Ox- ford, are admirable, and well deserve to be more generally known in this country. So impressed was he with the im- portance of the subject, which he understood so well, and had written upon in so luminous a manner, that immediately after being placed at the head of the Irish Church, one of his first acts was to establish in the University of Dublin, at his own charge, a Professorship of Political Economy. The first fruits of this act of truly enlarged and Christian benevo- lence, we have just received in the lectures of Professor Longfield. In the preface to his Lectures on Political Economy, Pro- fessor Whately avows, that his chief inducement to off'er himself as a candidate for this chair in the University, and his first object in his course of Introductory Lectures, were to remove the prejudices against Political Economy existing in the minds of some persons as being inimical to religion. " It has been my first object," says he, " to combat the prevailing prejudices against the study; and especially those which represent it as unfavorable to religion. Convinced as I am that the world, as it always in fact has been governed by political economists of some kind, must ultimately be under the guidance of such as have systematically applied them- selves to the science, I could not but regard it as a point of primary importance, to remove the impression existing in the minds of many, both of the friends and the adversaries of Christianity, as to the hostility between that and the conclu- sions of Political Economy." This object, in my humble opinion, he has accomplished in a most able and triumphant manner, and I most sincerely wish that some enterprising publisher would confer a favor on the American public, by putting forth an edition of his interesting and instructive lectures. While suggesting this, two other works occur to my mind as having the same tendency, and as deserving far greater attention than they can receive, while only to be obtained in the few and expensive copies of the English NOTES. 193 editions whicli have reacned this coiuitiy. I refer to the " Progress of Society," by the hate Professor Hamilton of Marischal College and University of Aberdeen. Although written in reference to a state of society very different from our own, yet the principles it discusses, and the information it gives in many points, are of universal application. The other work is " A treatise on the Kecords of the Creation, and on the moral attributes of the Creator, with particular reference to the Jewish History, and to the consistency of the principle of population with the wisdom and goodness of the Deity. By John Bird Sumner, D.D., Lord Bishop of Chester," — a learned, ingenious, and eloquent treatise. I cannot doubt but that these works would repay the cost of their republication, and I feel assured that they would amply reward the attention given to them by those who are inter- ested in the subjects of which they treat. NOTE B, P. 153. I do not think that I overrate the value of this science, when I place it not least amongst the means by which the human race is to be made wiser, better, and happier. Tlie bettering the condition of man is the very object to which it directs all its investigations, and if some of these appear at first view to be exclusively devoted to his temporal and perishing state of being, yet followed out into their legitimate connections and dependencies, they will be found to bear closely upon his intellectual and immortal nature. My learned and much valued friend. Professor McYickar, of Co- lumbia College, N. Y., in his concluding remarks to his re- publication of McCulloch's Outlines of Political Economy, adopts this forcible language, in which I entirely coincide : " Without incurring the charge of enthusiasm, it may be maintained to be the redeeming science of modern times — the regenerating principle that, in connection with the spirit of Christianity, is at work in the civilized governments of the world, not to revolutionize, but to reform. It is to states what religion is to individuals, the ' preacher of righteous- ness,'— what religion reproves as wrong. Political Economy rejects as inexpedient — what religion condemns as contrary 13 194 NOTES. to duty and virtue, Political Economy proves to be equally opposed to the peace, good order, and permanent prosperity of the commnnity," Should not such a science he made more universally the subject of attention ? Should not its rudiments be taught in our schools, and its higher principles in our Colleges ? And yet how is it neglected in both ! Kot universally in our Colleges — in Columbia College, N. Y., it has been long and ably taught. It is a prominent part of the course of instruction in "Washington College, Hartford, and very possibly in other of our higher seminaries of learning, although I am not informed upon this point. But what has been done, and is doing for it, in our own favored and be- loved University ? If in this particular department there is not an adequate endowment to support regular instruction in so important a science, surely there cannot be wanting the means, in our intelligent and noble-spirited community, to accomplish this object. Deepl^y interested as merchants, manufacturers, agriculturalists, capitalists are, in having cor- rect views upon their various interests distributed throughout the community, will they not all cheerfully aid in maintain- ing a system of instruction which shall effect this purpose ? "Where can this better be done than within the venerable walls of Harvard ? " I trust," says Professor Whately, " that while due en- couragement shall still be afforded to those more strictly professional studies Avhich conduce to the professional ad- vancement in life of each individual. Political Economy will, ere long, be enrolled in the list of those branches of know- ledge which more particularly demand the attention of an endowed University. The time is not, I trust, far distant, when it will be regarded as discreditable not to have regu- larly studied those subjects respecting which, even now, every one is expected to feel an interest, most are ready to adopt opinions, and many are called on to form practical decisions." The suggestion is as imj)ortant to enlightened and liberal- minded 23ersons here, as to those on the other side of the Atlantic. Let us not be behindhand in availing ourselves of it. Great, and doubtless to a very considerable extent, well- NOTES. 195 founded prejudice has been excited against Political Economy, in consequence of the conflicting theories that have been advanced in regard to its fundamental principles, and the dull, confused, pedantic, and often mystical way in which it has been treated. There are very many j)ractical men who are even now too apt to regard it as a system of solemn quackery. And when we see some of them, as we do occa- sionally in conversation, and in the debates of our legislative assemblies, come directly at sound conclusions by a process of simple, direct, and forcible argument, without any know- ledge of a word that has been written in books concerning exchanges, value, price, wages, caj^ital, &c., we can hardly be surprised at such an impression gaining ground, unfor- tunate and mistaken though it be. But such occurrences are no more valid as an argument against pursuing Political Economy as a science, than the fact that such men as Frank- lin have made great discoveries in physical science, without the regular mental discipline of the schools, is an argument against having Professorships of Mathematics and Natural and Experimental Philosophy in our Colleges. All they prove is, that now and then men of powerful and discrimi- nating minds rise up, who can do more without the aid of systematic education, than the common order of men can do with it. But education has a tendency to remove the ine- quality 23roduced by variety of natural endowments, and therefore it is just, as well as benevolent, to promote it. No one has yet mastered the science of Political Economy. It is probably the most difficult and complex of all the moral sciences, and when some gifted mind shall disencumber it of paradoxes, ambiguous phraseology, and subtle and unprofit- able questions, and shall exhibit its fundamental principles in clear and bold relief, it will be discovered that it is, at the least, as interesting and important as any one of them, and perhaps the best calculated of all, to give to the mind that discipline which shall render it discriminating, practical, and eflicient in conducting the transactions of real life. Teachers in this department, and their books, are fast im- proving : witness the ones referred to in the preceding note. And let it not be regarded as the prejudice of friendshij) that 196 NOTES. would speak in terms of unqualified praise of the style of writing, and tlie method of argument and illustration as ex- hibited upon the subject in the "Manual of Political Econ- omy, by Willard Phillips," without, however, choosing to be responsible for any opinion upon the conclusions to which this author arrives on some disputed points. The treatise itself, though obviously the fruit of extensive reading and profound thought, has less of the parade of learning, and the confusion arising from a careless use of language, and more of condensed and valuable information relating to the subject, in connection with our own country, than any that has yet appeared, NOTE C, p. 188. Ui3on the important subject of wages, laborers, and their condition, see Chap. YIL of Phillips' Manual of Political Economy, replete with judicious and philanthropic sugges- tions. Especially see the eloquent passage p. 151. Laborers should le able to save. THE CONFESSING OR DENYING OF CHRIST. Matthew x. 32, 33. "Whosoever therefore shall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven. But whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven. It requires no argument to prove that these condi- tions are conformable with the strictest justice. The simple statement of them is sufficient to carry a con- viction of their perfect equity to every unprejudiced understanding. If we confess our Saviour before men, that is, acknowledge him both by profession and prac- tice to be our Lord and Master, he also will acknow- ledge us before his Father to be his servants and dis- ciples. If, on the other hand, we deny him before men, that is, reject his religion, and live as though we were ignorant of its doctrines and precepts, he also, at the last day, will declare unto us, " I never knew you, depart from me ye workers of iniquity." No one can presume 198 THE CONFESSING OR DENTING OF CHEIST. to say tliat it is either unjust or unreasonable to make tlie favor with whicli our Saviour will hereafter regard us, to depend upon the respect we have manifested for him here on earth. At the time when this declaration was made, both the hazard of confessing Christ, and the temptations to deny him, were far greater than they are at present. The priests and rulers of the Jews were leagued to- gether l)y bonds of the most obstinate prejudice to oppose the spread of the Gospel. And beside this opposition the Apostles had to contend with the vices, the passions, and the long cherished customs of an ignorant multitude. When therefore our Saviour gave them their first commission to go and preach the kingdom of heaven, he foi'ewarned them of the difficulties they would have to encounter. They were sent forth as sheep amongst wolves ; they were told that they would be delivered up to councils, and be scourged in synagogues, and that they would be hated of all men for the sake of their Master. To strengthen them for all these trials, and to prepare them to encounter manfully all this oppo- sition, amongst other arguments that are offered to them, is the one contained in the text. It has not, it is true, precisely the same application to us Christians of the present day, that it had to the first professors of the Gospel, because we are not a small and feeble band appointed to sustain a new system of faith in the midst of numerous, powerful, and exasperated oppo- nents ; nor to bear testimony to its truth before rulers THE COISTESSING OR DENYING OF CHRIST. 199 and kings, at the hazard of temporal prosperity, and even of life itself But still we must know that there is a distinctly defined, and an urgent duty implied in confessing Christ before men, and a grievous sin in denying him ; and that the reward promised to the one course of conduct, and the penalty denounced against the other, are still held forth for our encourage- ment and warning. To explain, therefore, what is meant by our con- fessing and denying Christ before men, and by his confessing or denjdng us before his Father, is the object of this discourse. I. In the first place, it must be obvious, that to con- fess Christ implies an avowed belief in the truth of Divine revelation. To acknowledge him merely as a teacher of a pure morality, and to esteem his rehgion only as a system well calculated to j)romote the peace and good order of society, is not sufficient. By giving to the phrase as limited an interpretation as this, we may, with equal propriety, be said to confess any un- inspired teacher of moral or political truth. But by confessing Christ, we must understand avowing a belief in his divine mission, that he is not only a teacher, but a teacher speaking with direct authority from God, and that the religion which he and his Apostles estabhshed was not the product of human wisdom and ingenuity, but was given to the world by the special agency of the Holy Spirit. And are we required to assent to all this uj^on human authority alone, and to receive men as religious instructors commissioned from on high, be- 200 THE CONFESSING OR DENYINa OF CHEIST. cause they lay claim to Divine inspiration ? By no means. Tlie religion of Christ, as it is addressed to reasonable men, so does it carry with it proofs of its heavenly origin, designed and adapted to satisfy reason. Our Saviour and his Apostles never demanded of those to whom they spoke, an assent to their doctrines merely upon the strength of their assertions. They uniformly appealed to the evidence of prophecy and miracles. " Believe me," says our Saviour himself, " for the very works' sake." "The works that I do bear wit- ness of me." The Apostles, too, when they preached the kingdom of God, rested not upon their own unsup- ported declarations ; but God bare them witness, both with siofns and wonders, and with divers miracles, and gifts of the Holy Ghost. And at the present day, the proofs of Divine revelation challenge the most rigid scrutiny. No one is called upon to confess Christ but upon full conviction of his Divine character and au- thority. No one is ever asked to sacrifice his reason or common sense upon the altar of revelation. The Gospel contains within itself full and powerful evidence for the sincere inquirer after truth, that it is indeed the gift of God to man, and he who in a candid and hum- ble temper of mind directs his attention to the inves- tigation, cannot well conclude it without arriving at a solemn conviction that it is his duty to confess Christ before men. II. Secondly, in addition to an avowed belief in the truth of Di\ane revelation, confession of Christ implies an acceptance of the peculiar doctrines which that reve- THE CONFESSING OE DENTINa OF CHKIST. 201 lation teaclies. If it were necessary, in order to the sal- vation of man, that God slionld send his Sou into the world, and if j^art of our Saviour's office, while on earth, was to instruct mankind in religious truths, it will follow, that it is of the utmost importance that these truths should be known and professed. The question then obviously arises, what are these truths ? But in replying to this there is apparently a serious difficulty to encounter. We see tliat tke same inspired volume, in tlie hands of different men, is made to speak not only different but sometimes opposite doctrines. How then are we to decide whicli are they who scripturally and truly confess Christ ? I reply — from the Scriptures themselves. Leaving the streams whicli have been rendered turbid by the angry contests of men, we must take our draught of religious trutli from the pure and unpolluted fountain. It is to the Scriptures that our lioly Churck directs us to appeal in aU matters of re- ligious controversy ; and in that admirable summary of Christianity, the Thirty-nine Articles, she teUs ker children that " Holy Scripture containetk all tkings necessary to salvation, so that whatsoever is not read therein, nor may be proved thereby, is not to be re- quired of any man that it should be believed as an article of the faitk, or be thought requisite or necessary to salvation." Still it may l)e said that tke difficulty is not removed, because all the various denominations of Christians aj^peal to tke Scriptures in supj^ort of tkeir peculiar opinions. Tkose even wko deny tke divinity of our Saviour, and tke atonement, and tke 202 THE co]srrESsnf& oe DEXYLNa of christ. personality and influences of the Holy Spirit, do it upon tlie ground tliat they cannot discover these doc- trines in Holy Writ. Now, whether at any future period the whole world is to be brought to consen- taneous views of Gospel faith, we cannot decide. But that conflicting opinions will for a long course of years be maintained, and that grievous heresies even will prevail amongst those who name themselves by the name of Christ, we are positively assured by the Scrip- tures. St. Paul says, "There must be also heresies among you, that they which are approved may be made manifest among you." He speaks of some who by denying the resurrection, had even made shipwreck of their own faith. St. Peter forewarns Christians, that in the last days there will come scoffers walking after their own lusts, and saying, where is the promise of Christ's coming to judge the world ? We are not to be surprised, therefore, that the peculiar doctrines of the Gospel are now sometimes disputed and disbelieved. But we are to be careful to avoid the errors into which many have fallen by a too bold reliance upon human reason, in investigating questions of simj^le faith which were never designed to be embraced by it. The intellectual powers are to be exercised in examining the proofs of revelation and interpreting the language of the Scrij)tures to show what they teach ; this done, the office of the reasoning faculty ends, and faith comes in, faith sustained and sanctified by the Holy Spirit, to perfect the work in the conviction and conversion of the sinner. As, THE CONFESSESTG OE DEISTING OF CHEIST. 203 however, but few out of the great nnmber to whom the Gospel is to be offered, can possess the ability or find the opportunity to investigate its exddences, and to examine its doctrines, Jesus Christ established his Church on the earth, as the sacred depository and authorized interpreter of all doctrinal truth. The Church is the pillar and ground of the truth, and all must hear and obey the Church, even as though Christ himself spoke. With respect, therefore, to the ques- tion what are the essential and immutable doctrines of Chiistianity, the Church in her Liturgy, Articles, and Homilies, answers it fully and clearly. These are the doctrines which have been maintained from the Apostles' days till now, which the great body of the Christian world has every where and at all times pro- fessed, and in defence of which multitudes of pious and learned men have stood forth, and the noble army of martyrs have shed then- blood. No one, then, who receives these doctrines, need fear that he confesses what essentially belongs to Christianity. But by this declaration are we attempting to stop investigation by the power of authority ? By no means. Let no one who has God's Word to refer to, and who has the ability and the time requisite for the inquiry, adopt without examination, the expositions of men, learned and pious though they be. Bring every opinion, every doctrine, every practice, to the touch- stone of Scripture ; so far as it be genuine, receive ; so far as it be false, reject it. Neither learning, nor piety, nor antiquity, can sanctify a false faith, or an 204 THE CONFESSING OR DENYINa OF CHEIST. ungodly practice. Althougli we contend tliat tlie doctrine, and discipline, and worship, of our Church are pure, and excellent, and true, it is not because the fabric has been reared up by men of old time, nor because the structure has been a^^proved by the wise and good of the earth, but because it has been framed by Apostles and Prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone. III. In the third place, confessing Christ before men im2:)lies a conformity of life and character with the rules which he prescribed, and with the example by which he illustrated them to the world. Of what value is the most orthodox faith, if it be contradicted by an irreligious life ? What will it avail us to cry Lord, Lord, that is, acknowledge Christ to be our Mas- ter, if we do not the things which he says ? We read of those who profess that they know God, but in works deny hun, being abominable and disobedient and unto every good work reprobate. Indeed, the most accep- table way in which we can confess Christ, is to live the life which he requires in the Gospel. By some it may be thought that correctness of belief will, in some measure, atone for viciousness of life. But this is a most pernicious and false opinion. On the contrary, the greater the extent of any one's religious knowledge the stronger becomes his obligation to religious obe- dience ; and he who professes to believe what Christ taught, is under the more solemn obligation to do what he commanded. He, then, who w^ould confess Christ before men, must, in every thing, walk as be- THE CONFESSIlSrG OE DEISTTESTG OF CHRIST. 205 comes his discij^le. He must show by the uniform influence of religion upon his character, that he is at heart, what he professes to be with his mouth. The Apostle supposed it possible that a man might give all his goods to feed the poor, and yet not have charity. On the same principle, a man may profess all the truths contained in the Bible, and yet be no more of a Chris- tian, than the poor heathen into whose ears the word of revelation never entered. The true Christian is he who lives the life he now lives in the flesh by faith in the Son of God ; that is, whose faith is not a mere spec- ulative opinion, coldly resting in the understanding, but an active and efficient principle, exerting a well marked influence over the conduct of every day and every hour. As the moral precej^ts of the Gospel will be uni- formly observed by him who truly confesses Christ, so also will a sacred respect be j)aid to all its ordinances. By the very act of appointing them, our Saviour has shown that they are important, and that his disci- ples are under a constant obligation to observe them. The stated worship of God, and the holy sacraments of Baptism, and the Supper of the Lord, should be as- siduously attended to by all who sincerely desire to confess Christ. As these are means expressly appoint- ed by him to keep alive the vital warmth of piety in our hearts, how can we neglect them if we feel any in- terest in this great object ? A neglect of the ordinances of Christianity, and especially of the Eucharist, may proceed either from 206 THE COKFESSIISTG OE DEISTYLNG OF CHEIST. timidity or indifference. If from timidity, and a pain- ful sense of unworthiness, — to persons so affected, we address the language of entreaty and encouragement. Come forward, and confess Christ in the way of his own appointment. He is not an unreasonable or a hard Master whom you serve. If in humility and faith you approach his holy table, doubt not of your accept- ance as welcome guests. Discharge your duty, a posi- tive and commanded duty, and trust to him for a favorable result in your own spiritual comfort and growth in grace. If, on the other hand, neglect of the Lord's Supper proceed from indifference, it must certainly be regarded as a practical denial of the im- portance of this ordinance, and also a contempt for his authority by whom it was appointed. Such persons cannot be said to confess Christ before men, — ^they openly deny him whenever they turn from the table here spread for all, and to which all ai'e freely and affectionately invited. In connection with what has thus been said about confessing Christ, the text naturally leads us to state what is meant by denying him. But httle, however, need be said upon this part of our subject ; for it must be obvious that, by denying Christ, we are to under- stand the converse of what has already been sj^oken. It is to reject Divine revelation, to refuse our assent to the peculiar and essential doctrines of the Gogpel, and to live in disobedience to the commands of God, as re- corded in his inspired Word. It is not merely he who disbelieves that God has ever spoken by inspired THE COISTESSD^G OR DENYING OF CHRIST. 207 Propliets, and in tliese last days by his Son, — or, he who refuses to give the Son the honors that are his due, — or, he that in proud reliance upon human reason rejects what is taught in revelation, if it does not ac- cord with his own opinions, that is to be charged with denying Christ. But he falls under this heavy accusation whose life is at variance with the Gospel ; who gives e\ddence that the obligations of Christian purity, temperance, self-denial, meekness, benevolence, love, exert but a slight influence upon his character and conduct ; and who shows that the ordinances of the Gospel command so little of his respect or atten- tion, that he will not sacrifice to them worldly occupa- tion, convenience, or pleasure. All this is denying Christ by actions which speak louder than words. Professions of love for Christ and respect for his re- ligion, may be lond and frequent, but in themselves they are light and worthless as the chaff. It is the fruit that discloses the value of the tree ; it is the prac- tice that shows the sincerity of the faith ; it is the pure and exemplary life which proves that religion dwells in the heart ; it is the beauty of holiness in practice as well as doctrine, that is the valuable and accej^table confession of Christ before men. I must now direct your attention, for a brief space of time, to the reward and penalty attached to the opposite courses of conduct, I have thus marked out in general terms. Most consoling and animating is the promise made to those who shall confess Christ before men. Most awful the punishment denounced against 208 THE CONFESSESTG OE DENYING OF CHRIST. those wlio shall, in this world, deny their Lord. The former, he also will confess before his Father which is in heaven ; and the latter, he will deny. Carry your- selves forward, my brethren, to that gi-eat and momen- tous day, when the dead shall be summoned to final judgment ; when the rich with the poor, the mighty with the abject, the learned with the ignorant, the trembling and appalled sinner, with the saint resting in humble confidence upon faith and hope, shall be called upon to render up an account of the deeds done in the body ; when the book of the law, with all its terrors, and the book of record, with its strict account of human offences, shall be laid open before the eternal judge. What will support you in that day, and upon whom will you depend for deliverance ? Upon your- selves? And have any of you a pure and spotless character to present before the God of purity ? And have you, in your own possession and in your own right, the garment of righteousness with which you must be clothed, before you can find admittance to the marriage supper of the Lamb ? Have you no offences against God or man, which conscience will then sum- mon up to cover you with shame and confusion of face ? Will the page of record, as relates to you, be found white and unblotted? And do you feel that you can thus lay claim to your own merits as a title to the everlasting joys of your Lord ? Alas, wretched beings ! whatever may be our state of security and presumption now, we shall then find to our dismay, that we are sinful and impure ; that our THE CONFESSING OR DENTHSTG OF CHRIST. 209 self-righteousness is a garment torn and soiled ; that our names, if not blotted from tlie Book of Life, are yet charged with many and grievous ofPences ; that our own merits, when weighed in the balances of eternal justice, will be found utterly wanting. Where, then, shall we look for deliverance ? Upon whom shall we call to remove from us the burden of our offences ? Of whom shall we entreat, that our delinquencies may be covered by the mantle of his righteousness ? We are forewarned and directed in whom to trust at that awful day. Christ hath loved us and given himself for us. He who knew no sin was made to be sin for us, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him. He loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood; and there is no other name under heaven given among men, whereby we may be saved. Upon him then, upon our blessed Saviour, we must depend ; and in his merits we must put our trust. But if we have denied him upon earth ; if we have rejected his Gospel; or if, while professing a belief in it, we have brought discredit upon it by our lives ; what are we to anticipate ? Can we suppose that his arm will then be extended for our relief; that arm in whose strength we placed no trust while we were upon earth ? Can we, with any confidence, beseech him to exercise his mediatorial power in our favour, and inter- cede for us before his Father's throne, when we have sHghted and disregarded his character as Mediator and Intercessor ? Can we expect to be washed clean by the purifying efficacy of that bloody which, on earth, 14 210 THE CONFESSING OE DENTESTG OF CHEIST. we trampled under foot, and accounted an unholy tMng ? Can we expect to find an interest in his merits before tlie tribunal of God, whom we bave habitually denied before men ? No : most assuredly no. Every principle of reason and justice contradicts such a sup- position. Revelation exclaims with a louder voice, and says, in the words of our Saviour himself — " Whoso- ever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven." Who can endure the terrors of that day ; discarded, disowned, rejected by Christ ? Who can stand before the awful frown of an offended God and Judge ? Who can bear that withering denunciation — " I never knew you ; de- part from me, ye cursed ? " But this appalling condemnation you can now es- cape. You can now secure that that face which will be hidden in clouds of anger from the wicked, shall beam with peace, and joy, and consolation, upon you; and that voice which will thunder terror against the profli- gate rejectors of the Gospel, shall speak to you with the cheering accents of mercy and forgiveness. "Whoso- ever shall confess me before men, him will I also con- fess before my Father which is in heaven." Blessed Saviour ! grant us the grace now to accept these thy reasonable conditions ; help us to confess the true faith of thy holy name ; help us to live as becomes thy Gospel ; and when thou shalt come again to judge the world in righteousness, may our confession of thee as our Saviour on earth, have prepared the way for our full acceptance with thee as our final Judge ! THE HARMONY AND EFFICIENCY OF THE GOSPEL SCHEME OF SALVATION. 1 John ii. 1, 2 My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not. And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous: and he is the propitiation for our sins: and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world. It was at a very advanced period of his life, tliat the Apostle Jolin addressed this Epistle to the Chris- tians of his day. It may be considered, therefore, as containing his dying instructions and exhortations. They are delivered in that spirit of affectionate ten- derness which ever characterized the disciple of whom it was emphatically said that Jesus loved him. In the overflowing of this spirit of love, he writes to the fol- lowers of his Lord and Saviour, and calls them his children ; — children in years, compared with him the 212 THE HAEMONY AND EFFICIENCY OF aged Apostle, and probably tlie sole survivor of tliose who companied with our blessed Saviour ; — and chil- dren in reference to the affection which he felt and exhibited for all who named the name of Christ. His anxious desire is to lead them to a full and experimen- tal knowledge of the Lord Jesus, as their propitiation for sin, and their advocate with the Father ; and to show them how the love of Christ, if genuine, wQl pro- duce love to our brethren and superiority to the world and its pleasures. But lest the free and gracious man- ner in which the promise of pardon is made, should induce any to be careless in committing sin, he puts in close connection with the declaration that Jesus is the propitiation for sin, an earnest exhortation that we should not commit sin. "My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not. And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous: and he is the propitiation for our sins." This, indeed, may be considered as a sum- mary of the Gospel. I. In the first place, we have here an exhortation to us that we sin not, and a system of instructions in reference to the will of God, and the extent and obli- gation of human duty, that removes from us every possible excuse for sinning ignorantly. The Gospel is a perfect law ; one in which there can be found neither error nor deficiency ; and one which requires no emen- dation in consequence of the changes of individual character, or the circumstances of the whole social community of man. Every where, and at all times, THE GOSPEL SCHEME OF SALVATION. 213 and in all places, are its great principles adequate to all our moral wants, and equal to our highest moral instruction. And in no one feature of the Gospel, is its truth and divinity more clearly demonstrated, than in this. Human laws require emendation, as the soci- ety for which they are made improves, or its relations become altered. Codes of morals, as collected and arranged by human wisdom, are deficient, and their principles are not of universal application. Not so with the Gospel ; it is unchangeable as its Author, and its principles are of direct and easy application where- ever man is found. Does not this prove it to be divine? JMust it not be an emanation from that Almighty and All-seeing mind that created man and knew what was in him ? The argument is an impor- tant and powerful one, and capable of a fuU and inter- esting elucidation ; but it would draw us too far from our present object to pursue it any farther. It has been introduced simply with the design of showing, that when the Gospel calls upon us not to sin, it at the same time makes every reasonable provision for ena- bling us not to do so. " The law of the Lord is a per- fect law, converting the soul; the testimony of the Lord is sure, and giveth wisdom unto the simple ; " and, as is said in the emphatic language of Scripture, " the way-faring men, though fools shall not err there- in." To one who has received the revelation of Jesus Christ, therefore, there can be no such thing, properly speaking, as sins of ignorance. If the law is trans- gressed, it must be through culpable neglect in not 214 THE HAEMONY AND EFFICIENCY OF endeavouring to know wliat it is ; or else througli tlie power of temptation, silencing tlie voice of conscience, and setting aside the effect of tlie sanctions of God's law. The exhortation of the Gospel is, therefore, a reasonable and just one, that we " sin not." II. But we must observe, in the second place, that, connected with this exhortation, the possibility, and indeed the probability, of transgression is clearly stated : " But if any man sin." Now we are assured that every man does sin. This is also a clear and explicit declaration of the revealed Word : " There is no man that sinneth not." No one of the sons of men that has ever lived has attained the mark of Christian per- fection ; and no one, while the world shall last, can ever attain unto it. Here the objection may be suggested, why was a law set forth, and obedience to it required, when at the same time it was certain that no one of those beings for whom it was framed could ever fulfil it in all its extent % Is it not unreasonable to set up a precept for the observance of those whose capacity is not adequate to its observance ? Now, we observe, in reply, that there is this capa- city for obedience, otherwise there would be no guilt in transgression. It is a self-evident principle, that I cannot be justly condemned for not doing that which was beyond the reach of my powers of accomplishment. But we prove that there is this capacity by appealing to the conscience of every man to ask, if at any time when he has done wrong, he has not afterwards felt THE GOSPEL SCHEME OF SALVATI01S-, 215 convinced that it was in liis power to do right ? Were any of us ever tempted to an action when our free will was destroyed ? Have we not always been at perfect liberty to choose or to refuse ? And when the power of temptation has triumphed over us, has it not been because we were false to ourselves, and did not make use of the knowledge and exercise the power of resistance which we felt conscious of possessing ? It must be obvious, then, that the guilt is all our own. But in regard to the perfection of the Divine law, and the reasonableness of its being set before fallible man as the guide of his conduct, we have another obser- vation to make. It could not be otherwise than per- fect, considering its great design. It was constructed for a being capable of endless progression, and destined to make advances in spiritual knowledge and moral purity to all eternity. We are not hke the beasts that perish, endowed with an instinct that instructs us and impels us to fulfil the whole design of our existence, and that both permits and enables us to arrive at the perfection of our nature. On the contrary, there are no limits to our spiritual growth. It is our own neglect and our own sin if we are not growing wiser and better to the very moment of our transfer to another state of existence ; and we have reason to believe that one of the unspeakable pleasures of this state will be the delight of conscious and rapid im- provement. Here improvement is effected amidst many hardships and discouragements, and often have we the painful consciousness of falling backward in our 216 THE HAEMONY AND EFFICIEJSTCY OF course ; but tliere oui- progress in holiness will be with- out pain, without discouragement, and without end. Glorious and ennobling thought ! one which leads us to consider the true dignity of our nature, — one which more clearly and satisfactorily than any other argu- ment proves to us our immortality ! Such being our nature and destination, is it not obvious that the law to govern us must embrace the perfection of which we are capable, and for which we are intended ? Is there any point at which it could stop short of that precept of our blessed Saviour, " Be ye perfect even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect." "Would not a more narrow demand limit our improvement and our hopes ? Straining every exertion to attain perfection, although we may not reach it, will not our flight be loftier, and our progress incomparably greater, than if the requisition made upon us was defined and moderate ? But here a difficulty presents itself to our notice, an apparent discordance which must be harmonized. The law requires from us perfect obedience ; the ca- pacity for fulfilling the law is doubtless given to us, but yet we are all without exception transgressors. How then is the dignity of the Lawgiver and the authority of the law to l)e vindicated, and yet man be saved from the penalty of transgression ? This ques- tion is replied to by the Apostle, and to notice it will constitute the third and last remark which I have to offer to you as suggested by the text. III. " But if any man sin, we have an advocate with THE GOSPEL SCHEME OF SALVATIOlSr. 217 the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous, and he is the proj^itiation for our sins ; and not for ours only, but for the sins of the whole world." Here, my brethren, the doctrine of the atonement is presented to us in all its extent, and in all its consoling power. Here we may see the union of mercy and truth, the lovely embracing of righteousness and peace. This great event, the sac- rifice of our blessed Saviour, was needed to vindicate the Divine dispensations, to reconcile revelation with itself, to sustain the throne of the moral government of God, and to fix its foundations in justice, equity, and truth. Now, he can be just, and yet the justifier of all that believe in him. Without this discovery, that " God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that every one that belie veth in him should not j)erish but have everlasting life," — without this discovery, awful indeed would be our condition. The law is unfolded to us in all its purity and perfec- tion, and the command is universal and authoritative that we sin not. And, moreover, we feel that we have the power of obedience, and yet we are convicted in our consciences of daily transgression. Where then would be our way of escape ? to what refuge could we flee, were not a propitiatory sacrifice set before us ? Observe, my brethren, that in our text all the great of&ces of our Saviour, as connected with our salvation, are held out to prominent view. He is our advocate with the Father, seated at the right hand of God, for ever living to make intercession for us. And it is Jesus 218 THE HARMOISTT AND EFFICIENCY OF Christ tlie rigliteous, lie wlio did no sin, neither was guile in liis mouth, who fulfilled the whole law ; and being himself perfect, could rightly offer himself as a sacrifice. He is the propitiation for our sins. How full and explicit is this word, " the propitiation for our sins." The oris^inal word thus translated is found in the New Testament only in this Epistle ; but in the Greek version of the ancient Testament it fi^equently occurs, and there it signifies always a sacrifice of atone- ment. Jesus Christ then is our atoning sacrifice. He hath been offered up for us, and hath purchased re- demption for us through his blood. It has not been my design, from the words of the text, to enter upon the proof and explanation of the atonement, but to adduce it as an essential part of the grand whole of the Christian scheme. Without it all is imperfect and unsatisfactory ; without it the parts could not cohere ; it is the essential principle of attraction which binds the whole together. The Christian graces and virtues may shine forth in their mild radiance, and shed upon us their sweet influences, but their light comes from the central source, and they are kept in their respective orbits in uniform and harmonious motion by the cen- tral power, and this is Jesus Christ and his atonement. This it is which gives light and warmth to all the sys- tem. Blot out this, and all would be dark and cold and cheerless and hopeless, and all would soon rush into disorder and fatal destruction. But the principle is established, and sooner can the power of gravitation be taken from this our terrestrial system, and yet its THE GOSPEL SCHEME OF SALVATION. 219 order remain, than tlie atonement can be taken from the Gospel ; and yet its truth and consoling power upon fallen man remain unshaken. Our text then, my brethren, contains admonition and consolation^ united in an admirable manner, and beautifully adapted to our sinful nature and to our present state of existence. We are entreated not to sin. Every inducement is presented to us to draw us from transgression and lead us to obedience to the will of God. The awful punishment that awaits the unre- pentant sinner, even everlasting banishment from God and happiness, is declared, and the blessed reward of well doing is unfolded in the promises of eternal life, and pleasures that are at God's right hand for ever- more. And every needed instruction, encouragement and assistance, is vouchsafed to us in the revealed Word of God and the influences of his Holy Spirit. Let it be our daily prayer and our hourly effort that we sin not. Let us earnestly seek for restraining and direct- ing grace. Let us not be satisfied with any present attainments, knowing that at our best estates we are far^ far removed from the perfection demanded of us, and the perfection at which we have the power of arriving. And when in the course of this our probationary discipline it occurs to us, as how often, alas ! it has done, and will again, that we have fallen immeasural)ly short, not only of Gospel perfection but even of our own hopes, let us not despaii*, but remember for our comfort, that if any man sin we have an advocate 220 THE HAKMOlSrY AISTD EFFICIENCY OF with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous, and that he is the propitiation for our sins. But while fully appreciating the blessings of the Christian's hope, let us most anxiously guard against self-deception and the sin of presuming upon God's mercy. Is the revelation of pardon made in order to lighten the guilt of trans- gression ? Has a propitiation been made for sin, that sin may appear less hateful in our sight ? On the con- trary, Christ hath died to procure our pardon, that we may know how great is the guilt of sin and trans- gression when its consequences could be removed only by the propitiatory sacrifice of the Son of God. There- fore, if we are indifferent about sin, and return to it has- tily and easil}^ after a short repentance, Christ can profit us nothing. He gives relief only to those who are weary and heavy laden with the burden of their sins. The faith in him, which is alone effectual to sal- vation, is the faith that works by love and purifies the heart. Let us then examine the nature of our depend- ence uj)on the atonement, and see if it leads us to a greater hatred of sin and more earnest aspirations after holiness ; if it brings us in deep and unfeigned hu- miliation to the foot of the cross, and, with the hope of pardon that we get there, unites in us the resolu- tion, that by the grace of God and in dependence upon his Holy Spirit, we will more and more ear- nestly strive to love, to serve and obey him. May God grant that this may be the effect upon many of us of the preaching of Jesus Christ and him crucified, especially upon such of us as are now pre- THE GOSPEL SCHEME OF SALVATION. 221 paring to celebrate tlie dying love of our Redeemer, and partake spiritually of that body and blood that was broken and shed for us, and through which alone we dare look for the pardon of our sins, and for ac- ceptance at the awful day of the final judgment. THE LOVE OE GOD IN THE INCARNATION OE CHRIST. 1 John iv. 9. In this was manifested tlie love of God towards us, because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him. To the triumphant song of the angelic host, " Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will towards men," the Church mihtant this day gives back its annual response. Praise, indeed, is ever due, and is sung throughout the year, for the blessings of redeeming love ; but upon the natal day of the Prince of Peace it breaks forth from the faithful with peculiar demonstrations of joy. The walls of our temples clad in bright and cheerful green, the fir tree, the pine tree and the box together, beautifying the place of God's sanctuary, the animated character of our liturgical ser- vices, the joy and peace of religion extending to our god's love est the incaenation of cheist. 223 domestic circles, and spreading their sweet influence there, combine to show that we regard this in an espe- cial manner as a day which the Lord hath made, and therefore we rejoice and are glad therein. What theme can be in fuller accordance with these sentiments and these observances than Divine love, for what clearer manifestation of this attribute can be imagined than the wonderful event upon which the Church demands of us to fix our devout contemplations ? Instructed, then, and guided by the text, and praying for strength and wisdom from on high, I would detain your thoughts for a while in meditation, as I trust they have already been engaged in devotion, upon God's attribute of love, and the manifestation of this attribute in the incar- nation of his Son. Love, then, as an attribute of God, first calls for the exercise of our thoughts. Now to comprehend the essence of the Divine nature far transcends, we know, the power of finite man. Even the angels, though dwelling for ever beneath the effulgent beams of the manifested Godhead, can never reach to the height of this knowledge. To them, as to all created beings, it must for ever remain inaccessible. But if we know not now, and throughout the progress of eter- nity can never ariive at knowing the Almighty unto perfection, yet we may attain to some delightful and consoling measures of this knowledge by meditating upon those adorable attributes of the Supreme which have been revealed to us. But so weak are our powers when directed to this sublime object of contemplation, 224 THE LOVE OF GOD IN THE that for all the practical purposes of religious medi- tation, we are oblio^ecl to take the attributes of God separately, and to think of him sometimes as Almighty, sometimes as infinite in mercy, sometimes as unbounded in goodness, sometimes as exhaustless in wisdom, and sometimes as awful and inflexible in justice. So fully are all these attributes manifested in him, that we may with strict propriety say he is himself each one of them. He is power, he is justice, he is goodness, he is wisdom, he is mercy. This mode of expression, how- ever, seems to be peculiar to St. John. In one place he declares God is hght, and in the verse immediately preceding my text he proclaims that God is love. This attribute belongs to him in the fullest extent. It is not modified or restricted, but exists in all its en- tireness, so that in the Divine nature it is capable of neither addition nor diminution. To all created beings the moral quahties are of necessity commu- nicated by measure, and in different 23roportions, and the perfection of man's nature demands that a cer- tain equilibrium should be maintained between them. Therefore in man, a character all love would degenerate into weakness, the sentiment of justice would be over- powered, and thus the fulness of one quality would be ill compensated for by the absence or inefficiency of others. But all the possible perfections of a moral being are found in God, and cannot be attributed to him by measure or in any degree short of infinite. Of all these, however, the one upon which sinful man can dwell with the greatest satisfiiction is love. The justice INC AERATION OF CHEIST. 225 of God, although we are constrained to reverence it, yet it speaks to us only the language of condemnation and punishment. The goodness of God, although it must command our admiration, yet it opposes a painful contrast to our own depravity, and says. Behold, O sinner, how far you have departed from my image. The power of God, while we are lost in astonishment at its magnificent results, yet it must fill us with terror at the thought of the tremendous ability it supj^oses of inflicting the penalties of the violated law upon us guilty transgressors. But love. Divine love, speaks to us of mercy, of pardon, of reconcihation, and all those themes upon which the Christian soul delights to dwell, and which make the Gospel to be truly denominated glad tidings of great joy. Love shows to us the sword dropped from the hand of justice, the awful frown re- moved from the brow of offended goodness, and power, which might be exerted to kill and to destroy for ever, put forth only to save and to make alive for ever. " In this was manifested the love of God towards us," even in planning and carrying out to its full and per- fect execution the work of redemption. Not that we are to look upon this as the sole and exclusive manifestation of this glorious attribute of the Divine nature. The Apostle would not thus con- fine and limit our contemplations. He would not withdi'aw the eye from gazing upon the wide-sj)read universe, and reading what is there written, in char- acters all bright and glowing, that God is love. He would not check the mind in its exercise of tracing out 15 226 THE LOVE OF GOD EST THE the wonderful workings of a kind Providence in its adaptation of tke events of life to the moral discipline of man. He would not discourage us from filling our hearts even to overflowing, from the manifold sources that so abundantly supply it with the sentiment, that God is good to all, and his tender mercies are over all his works. But to redemption he points us as the fullest and most overpowering proof that God is love. This is a manifestation which no sophistry of the ingenious but perverse mind of man can obscure, and which no ignorance of man possessed of ordinary facul- ties can fail to comprehend. The necessity for redemp- tion, and the fact of its having been accomplished, may indeed be denied by infidelity. But granting to us the truth of the statements made in the Word of God (and with those only who make this profession of faith am I concerned at present), then we contend that the love of God to man is far more fully and satisfactorily shown in the work of redemption than in that of creation, or than in the superintending