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THE LIFE
ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D.D., LL
FIRST PROFESSOR IN THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY,
AT PRINCETON, NEW JERSEY.
RV
JAMES W. ALEXANDER, D. D
PHILADELPHIA:
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICArTION
821 CHESTNUT STREET,
1870.








PREFACE.
fIJIE reasons for this condensed edition are sufficiently obvious.  Many persons who would gladly
have perused the larger memoir, found it beyond
their reach. It will be seen, on collation, that the
tbridgment has been slight, and that the narrative is
scarcely touched.  Especially is the autobiographical
part given entire.
In this place I may be allowed to repeat, that
the work was one from which I would gladly have
shrunk; but it was laid upon me by the highest human authority I ever knew; as he who is the subject
of the narrative expressed on his death-bed the desire,
that whatsoever should appear in the way of public
memorial might proceed from two of his sons whom
he named for this purpose. For reasons not interesting to the general reader, the task has devolved solely
on me. I girded myself for it under all the disad



iv                  PREFACE.
vantages of a conviction long since formed, that in
many respects a son is not the proper biographer of a
father. Though his knowledge of facts and character may be supposed to be intimate, he is in danger
either of writing a panegyric, or of falling below the
truth in attempting to avoid it. In almost every
page I confess myself to have been haunted by the
apprehension of overstating, overcolouring, and giving undue importance to domestic traits. If this evil
has been incurred, it has not been from wilful suppression of truth, but from the warping influence of a
loving veneration. It would have been as natural as
it was consonant to my feelings, to speak of my dear
and honoured father under that tender appellation;
but the wish to avoid obtruding my own person every
where as thus connected, has led me to name him as
he was known by others.
One of the difficulties of the performance ought to
be clearly stated. The two ordinary and most copious
sources of a religious biography, are a private diary
and epistolary correspondence. As it regards the
former, my father, after his years of boyhood, kept no
personal journal. His letters, it is true, were numerous; but they were to a remarkable extent bare let



PREFACE.                   V
ters of business. Of hundreds now in my hands, the
greater part contain no passage which admits of being
extracted. and most of the remainder furnish only
scattered sentences. My hearty thanks are due to
those pupils and other friends of my father, who have
sent me letters received from him; the number of
such favours has prevented distinct and private acknowledgment. Some of these arrived too late to be
inserted in the text. In the absence of the materials
just named, I have had to rely upon two classes of
authorities. In the first place, my father,- after the
middle of his life, threw upon paper large reminiscences of his own career, and the history of his early
friends and acquaintances.' Greater use would have
been made of these manuscripts, if he had not expressly forbidden them to be made public in their
original form. I have gone to the utmost limit of his
supposed permission, in these autobiographical ex.
tracts. Unfortunately, they do not extend at all into
the second and more conspicuous half of his life. The
other source has therefore been the chief reliance, as
to this period; namely, my own personal recollections, aided and corrected by those of his family and
friends.




vi                  PREFACE.
In those parts which are made up from his manuscript records, I have once or twice allowed myself,
rather than mutilate his account, to repeat the same
events and opinions, as expressed by him in different
connections. In some few instances, I have been constrained to return to topics already treated and apparently dismissed, thus disturbing the arrangement;
because new matter on these points came in while the.
book was going through the press.  The excellent
steel engraving which accompanies these pages is
from the best representations which art has been able
to produce. But it ought to be added, that no likeness has been other than a failure, in respect to the
animation of his features and the liquid brilliancy of
his eye.
It is my humble prayer, that this memorial of one
who devoted his best powers, for a long period, to
the service of truth, of the Church, and of the Lord
Jesus, may be made conducive to the interests of
religion.
NEYz YonK, October, 1855,




TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CHAPTER  FIRST.
1772-17"78.
Descent-The Valley-Scotch-Irish-The Grandfather-The Father —Niatiyity-Boyhood-Schools-War-Jack  Reardon and Lyon-William
Graham —Priestly- Early Oratory- Influence of Scenery —Natural
Bridge...........            1-31
CHAPTER SECOND.
1789.
Tutorship-Leaving Home-Wilderness-Religious State-Mrs. Tyler-Baptist Preaching —Pious Millwright-Skepticism-Jcenyns-ConvictionsFlavel-Early Joy-Progress of Awakening.... 32-47
CHAPTER  THIRD.
1789, 1790.
Home-Visit to Revival in Southern Virginia-Samuel Morris-SmithGraham-Lacy-Mrs. LeGrand-Sacrament-Doubts and  Fears-Departure of Hope-Renewed Peace-Return.                      48-65
CHAPTER FOURTH.
1789, 1790.
Revival in Rockbridge-Self-Examination-Relapse  into Doubt-Sudden
Joy-Covenant-First Communion-Discussion  of Doctrines —Prince.
ton  College-Dangerous  Illness-The Springs-Mountains-Mr. Le.
Grand.                                                ~   66-81




viii                       CONTENTS,
CHAPTER  FIFTH.
1790, 1791.
-Preparations for the Ministry-Presbytery-First Public Address-Extemporaneous Efforts-Mission of Mr. Graham-German Convert-Young
Ruling-elder-Visit to Philadelphia-Assembly of 1791-Great Men of
the Church-Nisbet-Witherspoon-The Smiths-Homeward JourneySleeping Preacher-Home.                                   81-104
CHAPTER  SIXTH.I
1791.
Theological Studies-Graham's Class-Books —Presbyterial Trials-First Sermon-Licensure-Entrance on Ministry-Early Sermons-Early Manner-A Converted Family-Convert of Whitefield-Compensation-Mr.
Hoge-End of Tour-Staunton-Preaching at Home-Mission Work-Amberst-Prince Edward-Samuel Venable.                      104-130
CHAPTER  SEVENTH.
1792.
Missionary Tour-Lunenburg-The Lay-preacher-James Hunt-William
Cowan-Bishop Madison-Petersburg-Search for Pulpit-Mr. JarrattNottoway-Mecklenburg-Mr. Patillo-Religious Friends..  130-155
CHAPTER EIGHTH.
1792-1797.
Prince Edward and Charlotte-Early Presbyterian Labourers-RobinsonHenry-Austin-Baptist Council —Smith's River-Mountain Noolk-Anlecdotes-Tavern Prayers-Close of Mission-Settlement-OrdinationMrs. LeGrand-Pastoral Cares-Study of Sermons-Manner-Samuel
Brown-Houston the Shaker-Studies-The Allens-The Mortons-Eloquence of Patrick Henry and John Randolph-Hampden Sidney-John
H. Rice-Conrad Speece-Thanksgiving Sermon-Difficulties with regard
to Baptism.                                              155-208
CHAPTER NINTH.
1801.
Resignation of Presidentship-Journey to the North-Dr. Waddel-Amos
Thompson-Adam Freeman the Fanatic-Philadelphia-Princeton-New



CONTENTS.                             iX
Yorlk-Connecticut-Danbury-Litchfield-Association - Hartford- Dr,
Strong-Newport-Dr. Patton-Dr. Hopkins-Dr. Emmons.    20c-233
CHAPTER TENTH.
1801.
Boston-Harvard-Dr. Dana —Exeter-Father of Webster-Graduation of
Daniel Webster-Revival at Shelburne-Commencement at PrincetonCall to Baltimore-Return.                                   233-254
CHAPTER ELEVENTIH
1802-1806.
Prince Edward-Marriage-Labours in Virginia-Call to the North-Critical Juncture-Removal-Journey to Philadelphia-Slavery-DaphnaCity Life-City Clergy —Third Church-Religious Novel-Cares and Encouragements-City Destitution-Evangelical Society —Plan of City 1ission-Tracts-Call to Georgia-Sermon on Richmond Theatre.  255-495
CHAPTER TWELFTH.
1811, 1812.
Project of Theological Seminary-Dr. Green's Overture-Dr. Green's PlarDr. Miller's Narrative-Origin of Seminary-Three Plans-Election as
Professor-Pastoral Farewell-Inaugurations-Dr. Miller's DiscourseAntecedent fitness for the post-Biblical and Theological Studies —Set;lement at Princeton-Personal Traits.                          296-324
CHAPTER THIRTEENTH.
1812.
Pri iceton-Opening of School-Arduous Studies-Languages-TheokgyMethods-Scheme of Instruction-Polemic Theology-Continued Pieaching-Manner of Life —Accession of Dr. Miller-Relation of the twc Colleagues.                                                    325447
CHAPTER FOURTEENTH.
1813-1817.
First years as Professor- -Health-Private Toils-Increasing Classes —Funds —
Library-Sermons-Revival in College-Spiritual Counsels —Modes of




X                          CONTENTS.
lafluence-Visit and Death of Dr. Hoge-Invitation to Virginia-Domestic Habits-Love of Teaching —Home Lessons-Graphic Preaching-The
Paschal Lamb-Sacramental Address.                        348-376
CHAPTER FIFTEENTH.
1819-1829.
Public Labours-Church Courts-Progress of Seminary-Colleagues-Habits
of the Study-The Conference-Written Sermons-Church TroublesN-ew Divinity-New Measures —Mode of Treating Controversies-Late
Commencement of Authorship —Work on the Evidences-Review of Dr.
Yurdock-Biblical Repertory —Review of Brown-Dr. Finley and Colonization-Visit to Virginia-Correspondence —Introductory Lectures-?isaxims.....                                        37-404
CHAPTER SIXTEENTH.
1830-1839.
Difieulties in the Church-Sources of Strife-Old and New School-View of
the Differences-Evils of Division-Division of Church-State of Seminary
-Literary Activity-Writings-Prospect of Decline-Views of DeathCorrespondence-Preaching to Slaves-Foreign Missions-Early Conversions-Topographical Faculty...                    405-444
CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH.
1840-1851.
La3t Period-Declining Years-Correspondence-Views of Death and Eterrity-Dr. John Breckinridge-Visit to Virginia-Address at LexingtonDeath of Friends-Activity in Old Age-Connection with Public BodiesWritings of Old Age-Reviews-Visit of Mrs. Duncan-Death of Dr.
1liller —His character-Harmony of Professors-Dr. Miller's Testimonylast Synod —Last Sermon Abroad-Last Address to Children-Persistent
Labour-Resolution-Employments-Happy Old Age.. 445-492
CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH.
1851.
The last Scenes-Access of Disease-Interview with Dr. Hodge-Increased
Il.ness-Interview with his Son-Second conversation with Dr. HodgeConversation with Mlr. Schcnck-Perfect Pence-Revival of Youthful




CONTENTS.                            xi
Impressions-Dying Experience-Tranquil Joy-The last Sabbath-Last
Moments-Remarkable Answer to Prayer.                     49K-514
CHAPTER NINETEENT-I.
1851.
Funeral Services and other Testimonials-The Procession-Dr. McDowell's
Sermon-Cemetery-Dr. 5Magie's Address-Notice of Mrs. AlexanderMajor Alexander.                                         615-532
CHAPTER TWENTIETH.
General Summary-Personal Appearance-Health-Manners-Retiring Disposition-Social Traits-Benignity-Natural Endowments-Habits of
Thought-Diligence-Extent of Learning-Colloquial Powers-Preaching
— Testimony of Professor Henry-Personal Piety-Conclusion.   533-563








THE LIFE
OF
ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D.D.
CHAPTER FIRST.
1772-1788.
DESCENT -THE GREAT VALLEY-OLD ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER —PARENTAGE-NATIVE PLACE —EARLY SCIIOOLS —TIIE WAR —WILLIAM  G2AHIAM —PRIESTLY-CLASSICAL TRAINING.
A BOUT the year 1736, as nearly as can now be discovered,
three brothers named Alexander emigrated to America. Though they came from Ireland, they were of the
Scottish race, and their father, Thomas Alexander, had
removed from Scotland to the neighbourhood of Londonderry.
One of these brothers, Archibald Alexander, settled first in
Pennsylvania, where his son William was born upon the
river Schuylkill. The three brothers were well educated,
and one of them, Robert, was a teacher of mathematics.
After a residence of more than two years in Pennsylvania,.Archibald Alexander removed to New Virginia, as the country was then called; his son William, being at the time




2    EREVIV VL-THE VALLEY.
about nine years of age. He was among the earliest settlers
of that particular region.
"' While he resided in Pennsylvania," says the personal
narrative to which we are to be indebted for most of our
facts, " the Great Revival which spread its benign influence
over so large a portion of America, extended to the congregation in which he lived, and he became a subject of the
good work, under the preaching of Mr. Rowland. This fact
I learned from old Dr. Robert Smith of Pequea, who knew
him well, and told me in 1791, when I was at his house,
that he had often met with my grandfather during that
period, following Mr. Rowland far and near."
No better notion of the locality here principally concerned can be obtained, than from some paragraphs left by
tl e subject of this narrative. " The Great Valley of Virginia, or as it is commonly called in the State, the Valley, is
situated between the Blue Ridge and the North Mountain;
and its general direction is the same, from northeast to
southwest. It is a continuation of the same valley which,
commencing on the Delaware at Easton, passes entirely
through the State of Pennsylvania, including Bethlehem,
Reading, Harrisburg, Carlisle, Shippensburg, Chambersburg,
and many other flourishing towns and villages, and extends
through Maryland to the Potomac. On the south side of
this river the Valley of Virginia commences, and runs nearly
through the State, embracing in its whole extent, from the
Delaware to the New or Kanhawa River, as rich, as variegated, and as well watered a region, as can be found in the
United States. The width of this valley, from mountain to




VALLEY OF VIRGINIA.                   3
mountain, varies from ten to thirty miles; fifteen miles may
be considered the mean breadth.  There is also a great difftrenlce in the surface; in some parts the land is flat, but
rises in others into high hills, which every where in their uncultivated state are covered with forests of timber, which iA
often very large. It is, throughout, a limestone country; and
in some places the rocks almost cover the surface of the
ground. Within these rocks are many caverns, in some of
which the waters collect in such quantities, that in many
places, springs burst forth with a stream sufficient to turn a
large waterwheel. The ledges of limestone running above
the surface, and generally inclined at a considerable angle to
the horizon, cause the roads to be rough and very unpleasant
for wheels. Through the whole extent of this valley, wheat
and other kinds of corn are cultivated with great success.
Perhaps for the extent of it, it is the best wheat land in
America. It is an excellent farming country, with a deep
stiff clay soil, susceptible when exhausted of great improvenent from the gypsum and the lime obtained from the rocks.
" Although the region under consideration is now the central part of Virginia, it generally received its inhabitants
from a source very different from that of the remaining portions; for while the latter are from a pure English stock, the
former are Scotch-Irish and German in their origin. The
people called the Scotch-Irish are all Presbyterians, and
descending from the Scotch, have nevertheless for several
generations resided in the north of Ireland. They are a )eople of marked traits, diffiring entirely from the native Irish,
and from thle descendants of the English in Ireland.  They




4             SCOTCH-IRSJI -THE SCHISM.
leave also acquired characteristics which distinguish them
from the Scotch. These people settled in Ireland at different periods; but most of them went over in the times of
persecution under the Stuarts.  When Pennsylvania was
laid open for settlement, and freedom of religion was promised
to all denominations by William Penn, many emigrated to
that colony, and settled in the southern and eastern counties,
and in the three counties which have since composed the
State of Delaware.  As the settlements extended, they
spread themselves westward, and were generally among the
foremost to occupy new lands.  Many of them therefore
entered the Great Valley before described, about Harrisburg
and Carlisle, also towards the Potomac, and beyond it into
Virginia.  The time of the earliest emigration fi'om Ireland
was probably from 1720 to 1740.  About the last mentioned
date, some persons had penetrated so far along the valley as
to reach the waters of the great Powhatdn, commonly called
the James River. This part of the valley, though uneven
and in many places rocky, was found to be exceedingly fertile, and the'coves' and gaps in the mountains furnished
good grazing for cattle. So favourable a report was brought
back by the explorers, that many families in eastern Pennsylvanial determined to remove to New Virginia, as that
region was then called.
" Between 1740 and 1750 a great emigration took place;
and as an unhappy schism then existed in the Presbyterian
Church, dividing it into the Old Side and lNew Side, as the
parts were called, the people of these parties settled, not
promiscuously]  but in septlrate groups, which became the




EARLY MINISTERS.                 5
germs of new congregations; for when a settlement was
once made, it was rapidly increased every year by emigrants,
not only from Pennsylvania but directly from Ireland.  The
emigrants from congregations of the Old Side planted themselves in compact bodies in that part of the Valley east and
south of Staunton, and even extended themselves over the
Blue Ridge at Rockfish Gap, immediately below which they
found some rich and beautiful land on Rockfish River. In
a very few years there were three ministers of the gospel stationed among them. The Rev. Mr. Craig took charge of the
Augusta Church, and that of Tinkling Spring; the Rev. Mr.
Miller, of Mossy Creek and Harrisonburg; and the Rev. Mr.
Black, of Rockfish, on the eastern side of the Blue Ridge.
That part of the valley which lies southwest of Staunton, as
far as the Forks of James River, was settled principally by
adherents of the New Side. The congregations of Hebron,
Bethel, New Providence, Timber Ridge, and the Forks,
with some mixture of the others, were chiefly of the New
Side. The first minister who settled in this part of the
Valley, was the Rev. John Brown, who was born in Ireland,
but received his education, at least the finishing part of it,
in this country; for he was a graduate of the College of New
Jersey. When licensed he visited New Virginia, and received a call from New Providence and Timber Ridge, which
then formed but one congregation.  The next preacher of
this party was, I think, Mr. Cummins, who preached at the
North Mountain (Hebron) and Bethel. In the Forks, that
is the region about Lexington and further on towards the
James River, there was no settled pastor before Mr. Gra



6             OLD ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER,
ham.":   And here we resume the personal narrative:
" The congregation to which my grandfather belonged must
have been Norriton, in the vicinity of Norristown, which did
not then exist. It was divided into two, and the friends of
the revival built a new house of worship, which they called
Providence.  From  this many families emigrated to New
Virginia, settled together, and built a meeting-house, which
they called New Providence.  As the congregation was extensive, they built another Jn Timber Ridge, ten or twelve
miles further along the valley.  M3y grandfather's residence
was within the bounds of the latter; my father's farm was
adjoining.
"I have often wondered why he chose a residence in a
part of the valley so hilly and precipitous, when the whole
country was before him, and when land could be had for a
mere trifle. But I have understood that the selection was
judiciously made, on account of the fine pasturage in the
mountains, made accessible to cattle by the gap of Irish
Creek."
Archibald Alexander was a man of some remarkablle
points. At the solicitation of others, and for the sake of hlis
children, he gave lessons to such of the neighbouring youth
as would resort to him at night.  "The appearance of my
grandfather," the narrative continues, "I remember very
well. He was rather below the common height, but was
thick-set, broad-breasted and strongly built. His face was
broad, and his eyes large, black, and prominent. The expression of his countenance was calmu and benignant, and his
* MS. Life, of the Rev. William Graham.




'WILLIA2X ALEXANDER.               7
manner of speaking was very kind and affectionate.  He
raised a company of men, called Rangers; and as their captain performed a tour of duty on the Great Kanhawa and the
Ohio. For this service he received, in connection with other
officers, a right to locate several thousand acres of land in
Kentucky.  Perhaps no man ever left behind him a higher
character for uprightness and benignity, than old Ersbell
Alexander, as he was called by the Scotch people.  I have
heard him spoken of by men of all classes, without any variation in their testimony to his worth. A large part of
Rockbridge County was included in a grant made by the
King to a certain Mr. Burden, and was called, within my
memory, Burden's Tract.  When Burden died, he left my
grandfather sole executor of his will, with authority to sign
numerous deeds for land already sold.  This high trust he
executed with fidelity; and although he had such opportunities of appropriating to his own use any quantity of good
land, he never seemed to have the least desire to become
wealthy.  When he first came to the country, he only took
up as much land as would. make moderate farms for himself
and his two sons; and to each of these, when grown, he
gave portions. They, however, surveyed tracts on Irish
Cieek, which at this day are among the most valuable lands
in the neighbourhood."
William Alexander, son of the preceding, enjoyed fewer
opportunities of education; yet, being of an active mind, and
having more access to books than his companions, he acquired a considerable fund of knowledge. It is indicative of
the domestic habits of the day, that he knew the whole




8                     NATIVITY.
Larger Catechism, and remembered almost all Watts's
Psalms and Hymns. He united the pursuit of merchandise
to that of agriculture, but suffered greatly by the depreciation of the continental currency. He was an elder in the
Presbyterian church, but did not attain to the Christian eminence of his father. William Alexander married Ann Reid,
the daughter of a wealthy landholder, of the same Presbyterian colony.  She was a retiring and humble, but affectionately pious woman.  The latter years of her life were made
sad by a total loss of sight.
Archibald Alexander, the subject of this narrative, and
the son of William and Ann above mentioned, was born on
the seventeenth day of April, 1772.
C The house in which I was born," says his own account,
" was built of square logs, as were most of the houses at that
time. The place is rough, and is near a little mountain
stream, called the South River, which, after joining the
North River, falls into the James River, just above its entrance into the mountains. Nearly opposite to the place,
Irish Creek, a bold stream from a gorge of the mountain,
falls into the South River. This my birthplace was at that
time in Augusta County, which was unlimited to the west;
it is now in Rockbridge County, and is about seven miles
from Lexington, in an eastern direction.
" I was the third of nine children, seven of whom are still
living (July 26, 1839). My brother Andrew was the oldest.
The next in order was my sister, Margaret Graham.  The
others, in the order of nativity, are Sarah, John, Nancy
(who died in childhood), Phebe, Elizabeth, Nancy, and
Martha.




REMOVAL-FAMILY.                   9
jc My father, having in the year 1775 removed from his
place on the South River to the Forks, that is, to the south
of the North River, just this side of the site of Lexington,
began to carry on his mercantile business there. Indeed, to
get into a more public and convenient situation, was, I suppose, his only motive for this change. He purchased the
house now owned by my oldest brother. As the buildings
were poor, and on the wrong side of the farm for his purpose,
be erected a house and a store near to the present site of
Jordan's Mills. By this removal he went out of Augusta
into Bottetourt County; for the North River was the dividing line.  But soon after this a new county was taken
from  the two, and called Rockbridge, from  the Natural
Bridge, which was within its limits.  Lexington was fixed
on for the seat of justice; and a town was laid off, which
took its name from the place of the first battle and first
bloodshed of the Revolution. But the war came on, and all
mercantile business was necessarily suspended; and my father now acted as deputy-sheriff to his father, in the new
county."
A lively affection appears to have subsisted between the
brothers and sisters of the family. Of his brother, the late
Andrew Alexander, a Christian of high respectability and
strong points of character, he thus writes: "My brother was
four years older than myself, and perhaps two brothers were
never more unlike. From his early childhood he was sober
and careful, fond of work, and always contriving something.
I have heard my mother say, that while the family sojourned
at Irish Creek, v hen he was only five or six years of age,




10                    BOYHOOD.
he made for himself a booth in the garden, where ne would
sit and work with awl and needle, making himself a shot
pouch; for at that period every thing had a military complexion, the alarm of war having sounded through our peaceful
country. But my brother was at the furthest remove from
a warlike spirit. All his life he was so devoted to peace,
that he would at any time rather suffer loss than enter into
contention. His youth, manhood, and old age corresponded
with his childhood. He was of uninterrupted veracity, and
so honest that no temptation could ever seduce him to take
an advantage."
The country was new, and the times were difficult, in
consequence of which the youth of that day grew up with
hardier habits than ours. Dr. Alexander used repeatedly to
tell his children that his father gave him a rifle the day he
was eleven years old; and how he would spend days in the
mountains in search of cattle which were lost, able to catch
and discriminate the bells of his father's herd at a distance
which seems almost incredible. He was an expert swimmer,
and grew up with that perfect knowledge of horsemanship
which is still common to all young Virginians. Trifles serve
to colour the picture of the times. The dress of the elildrern
was grotesque.  "Long hair," says he, "'tied down the
back, was all the mode; and every little fellow was cherishing his hair. I, among the rest, had a little dangling queue,
which from the thinness of the hair was very small.  On
this account, some of the boys called me'My Lord Pigtail.'  A great laugh was raised against me, by my having
complained to the master of this, as a breach of the third
commandmnent.




PRIVATIONS-SCHOOLS.                11
"Some judgment may be formed of the privations of the
people, consequent on the long continuance of the war, from
the fact, that it was very difficult for our teacher to obtain a
penknife, to make and mend the pens of the scholars.
Hearing that my father had been on to the North for goods,
I was mounted on a iorse and sent home to get a knife.
There had been a great rain and the streams were swollen.
Arriving at the North River, on the opposite bank of which
my father's house stood, I found that the river was too high
to be forded by so young and weak a horse as the one I rode.
I knew not what to do. The only house near was a cabin of
one John Montgomery, an old cedar-cooper. To cross the
river, which is always deep at that spot, John had made a
bark canoe, such as is used by the Indians. I sat nearly all
day, but knew not how I should pass the night.  But
towards sunset the old man said he would go up with me to
the ford, and would try to make the family hear our call,
that a servant with a strong horse accustomed to the ford
might be sent over. In this we succeeded. Davy, a black
boy, crossed, and taking mne behind him on a tall horse, led
the one I had ridden, but it was not without danger."
These details, as belonging to the history of Virginia,
could not well be omitted. We shall gather from the narrative some account of his early lessons and teachers, which
will not be without their interest.
Schools. were very scarce.  I recollect that after oui
settlement in the Forks, as the whole country was then called
Jetween the James River and its North Branch, on which
last we resided, my eldest brother and sister went to a school




12                 JACK REARDON.
kept in the woods, half a mile north from where my brother
Major Alexander now lives. The master was one Carrigan.
They were every day carried across the river on horseback.
About this time, that is, the next year after our removal, my
father went on a trading expedition to Baltimore, and there
purchased several convict servants, who had been transported
for crime. Among these was a youth about eighteen or
twenty named John Reardon, born, as he said, in Ireland,
but reared from a child in London. He had been for some
time at a classical school, and had read Latin books as far as
Virgil, as well as a little in the Greek Testament. He wrote
a fair hand and had some knowledge of book-keeping, but had
never been accustomed to labour.  This young fellow, it was
thought, might teach school, in default of a better, and accordingly a hut of logs was erected at the foot of Paxton's Meadow,
where there was a spring. When last in that country, I
visited the spot and recognised the little knoll on which the
house stood, but no vestige of it remained, and nothing
around except the meadow furnished me with any associations
of my earliest school. For though this place was a mile
from our house by the direct path along the creek, which was
narrow and disagreeable, and a mile and a half by old Letty
Campbell's place, thither I trudged along every day, with
my short legs and little feet, when not more than five years
old. The master, as being my father's servant, lodged at
our house, and often carried me in his arms part of the way.
I had no fear of him, as at home I was accustomed to call
him Jack, and often conveyed my father's commands tohim.
By some means, I know not how, I had learned to read in the




HORN- BOOK-WARI.                  13
New Testament, before I went to this school. I remember
a horn-book, and a folded pasteboard, with letters and pictures, but this is all. The school was large, and some of
the scholars were nearly grown. It consisted of both boys
and girls. Our little Englishman made himself very familiar
with the larger boys, and did not pretend to exercise any
authority over them. But he would lay about him stoutly
with his long switch upon the smaller urchins, when they
were guilty of looking off their books. The custom was, to
read with as loud a voice as we could while getting our lessons,
as it was called. When within a quarter of a mile of a
country school, one might hear like a distant chime the united
voices of the scholars. Upon reflection, I cannot think that
I derived the smallest benefit from the year or part of a year
spent in this school, unless my lungs may have been strengthened by perpetual exercise. Before the year was out, the
war had commenced, and the drum and fife of the recruiting
sergeant were heard in all public places. Many companies
of regulars were enlisted in that- regon.  There were but two
tories in the whole country, and these were obliged to fly.
Most of the English convicts, whether they had served out
their time or not, enlisted. All who were in my father's service, namely, James Malone an Irish papist, Joe Lyon a
thievish Jew, and John Reardon, went off; for these men
generally cherished a deadly hatred to England."'Malone and the Jew  enlisted before Reardon.  The
former, as we heard, was killed in Carolina. Lyon, who was
a very bad man, deserted to the British.  Soon after Wallace's company reached the scene of warfare, Colonel Beaufort




14               REARDON AND LYON.
was attacked by Tarleton's corps in North Carolina. The
Colonel, seeing his men in confusion, fled at the beginning
of the battle, and almost the whole of his command was cut
to pieces by the dragoons. Wallace disdained to fly, and
being surrounded by the British horse, sold his life dearly,
having first killed three or four men with his spontoon. Reardon, being a small man, was soon cut down. He had three
deep wounds in the arms, one bayonet wound through the
side, which only penetrated the flesh, and a severe cut on the
head. After the battle he lay bleeding almost to death,
among the slain and wounded, totally unable to move himself, but perfectly in his senses. When night came on, the
moon shone, and he perceived a man passing near him, and
wherever he observed signs of life despatching the sufferer
with his bayonet. He presently approached Reardon, his
musket was raised and his bayonet directed, when by the
moonlight Reardon perceived that this murderer was his old
fellow-servant, Joe Lyon.  He immediately said,'What,
Joe-you will not kill me!' Lyon dropped his weapon and
appeared amazed; but he sat down beside him, bound up his
bleeding wounds as well as he could, brought some spirits and
water, and remained by him a good part of the night; and
before day dragged him to a small hut near the battle-field.
Reardon, from whose lips I often heard the story, believed
that the kind care of Lyon saved his life. Soon afterwards
the battle of Guilford tookl place, in which it was said that
Lyon was mortally wounded. Reardon returned to schoolkeeping on Timber Ridge."
At the age of seven, he was sent away to board at the




SCHOOL AT TIMBER RIDGE.              15
house of a relation, and attend a school on Timber Ridge.
He represents himself as very small for his age, and both timid
and peevish. Having previously learned the Shorter Catechism, he was now put to learn the Larger. " When I returned, the war was raging, and I frequently saw companies
of backwoodsmen, with their rifles, brown hunting-shirts, and
deer's-tail cockades, passing on to the theatre of conflict."
The young subject of our memoir after going for some time
to the school of one Stevenson, was again placed under the
care of Reardon, who had been released from the wars and
healed of his wounds. While here he had the early grief
occasioned by hearing that his father had been draughted as
a soldier; his place was however taken by his half-brother,
John Alexander. He next went to school to John Rhodes,
an Englishman, and also a " redemptioner, " as such bondmen
were called. "I remember this year," says he, " with much
satisfaction. We had many pleasant schoolmates, and were
pleased with our learning. I spent much of my time at the
writing-desk, but made poor progress. In arithmetic and
English grammar I did better; but at that time we had no
grammar but the one appended to the spelling-book, which
was founded on the Latin. This I laboriously committed to
memory, but it was not of the least use to me. I was now
ten years old; and my father having determined to give a
liberal education to one of his sons, selected me, saying to
me that learning was to be my estate.  The Reverend William Graham, a graduate of the College of New Jersey, had
set up an academy at Timber Ridge Meeting-House, and had
obtained an ample charter from the Legislature. He travelled




16             FIRST CLASSICAL SCHOOL.
through the New England States, soliciting benefactions for
his seminary. Several small neat buildings were erected for
the use of the students, and a good house on the New England
model was reared for the rector. Students came in a goodly
number, mostly grown young men. Every thing promised
success; but war came on and obstructed the progress of the
institution, which was named Liberty Hall. The school indeed existed before Mr. Graham came into the State, but
had its seat at Mount Pleasant, near to the site of the village
of Fairfield, six or seven miles to the east of Timber Ridge.
Here Mr. Graham taught for a year or more, but being a
man of much enterprise, he wished to rear a seminary after
the model of Princeton College. Having received a call to
take charge of the congregations of Timber Ridge and Hall's
Meeting-House, he removed the school to the former place,
where he conducted it for several years. But finding an
opportunity to purchase a farm which pleased him on the
North River, not much more than a mile from the present
site of Lexington, he transferred it to that place, and had
influence with a majority of the trustees to give their assent.
The spot was on the extreme part of my father's property.
My father was pleased to have the school brought so near
him, and made a donation of as much land as was needed
for the buildings. In the mean time, studies were pursued
in an upper room of Mr. Graham's. Here I first entered on
classical learning."
This is the proper place for giving some account of the
Reverendi William Graham, whose name must occur so frequently in these pages. To no man did Dr. Alexander own




WILLIAM GRAHAM.                  17
himself more indebted, in regard to the direction of his
studies and the moulding of his character.  Such was his
uniform testimony through life; and we cannot do better
than to subjoin his own estimate of this truly great thinker,
gathering it from a discourse delivered in 1843, among the
very scenes of his early studies.
"Mr. Graham possessed a mind formed for profound and
accurate investigation. He had studied the Greek and Latin
classics with great care, and relished the beauties of these
exquisite compositions.  With the authors taught in the
schuols he was familiar by long practice in teaching, and
always insisted on the importance of classical literature, as
the proper basis of a liberal education. He had a strong
leaning to the study of Natural Philosophy, and took great
pleasure in making experiments with such apparatus as he
possessed. As he was an ardent patriot and thorough republican, the times in which he lived led him to bestow much
attention to the science of government; and one of the few
pieces which he wrote for the press was on this subject. By
some he was censured for meddling with politics; but it
should be remembered that at this period, the country having
cast off its allegiance to Great Britain and declared itself
independent, had to lay the foundation of governments,
both for the States and the Nation; and the welfare of posterity as well as of the existing inhabitants of the land was
involved in the wisdom with which this work was done.
The talents of any man, capable of thinking, seemed to be
fairly put into requisition. It is a sound maxim, that men
living at one time must not be judged by the opinions of an
2




18                WILLIAM GRAHAM.
age in which all the circumstances are greatly changed. At
the adoption of the Federal Constitution, which according
to its original draught he did not approve, he relinquished
all attention to politics for the remainder of his life.
"The science, however; which engaged his thoughts more
than all others except Theology, was the Philosophy of the
Mind. Though acquainted with the best treatises which had
then been published, he carried on his investigations not so
much by books, as by a patient and repeated analysis of the
various processes of thought as these arose in his own mind,
and by reducing the phenomena thus observed to a regular
system. The speaker is of the opinion, that the system of
mental philosophy which he thus fbrmed, was in clearness and
fulness superior to any which has been given to the public, in
the numerous works recently published on this subject. It is
greatly to be regretted that his lectures were never committed to writing, for the benefit of the world. It was, however,
a fault of this profound thinker, that he made little use of
the pen; and it was also a defect, that in the latter years
of his life he addicted himself little to reading the productions of other men, and perhaps entertained too low an
opinion of the value of books.
"Mr. Graham, in his theological creed, was strictly orthodox, according to the standard of his own church, which he
greatly venerated; but in his method of explaining some of
the knotty points in theology, he departed considerably from
the common track, judging that many things which have
been involved in perplexity and obscurity by the manner in
which they have been treated, are capable of easy and satis



WILLIAM GRAHAM.                  19
factory explanation, by the use of sound principles of philosophy. As a preacher, he was always instructive and evangelical; though in common his delivery was feeble and embarrassed, rather than forcible; but when his feelings were
excited, his voice became penetrating and his whole manner awakening and impressive. His profound study of the
human heart enabled him to describe the various exercises
of the Christian, with a clearness and truth which often
greatly surprised his pious hearers, to whom it seemed as if
he could read the inmost sentiments of their minds.  When
his object was to elucidate some difficult point, it was his
custom to open his trenches, so to speak, at a great distance; removing out of the way every obstacle, until he was
prepared to make his assault on the main fortress. Thus
insensibly he led his hearers along step by step, gaining their
assent first to one proposition and then to another, until at
last they could not easily avoid acquiescence in the conclusion to which he wished to bring them. As a clear and
cogent reasoner, he had no superior among his contemporaries; and his pre-eminence was acknowledged by all unprejudiced persons.
" The great error of his life was his relinquishing the
important station in which Providence had placed him, and
for which he was so eminently qualified, and this at a time
of life when he possessed the ability of being more useful than
in any former period. Having removed to the banks of the
Ohio, he fell into great embarrassments, in the midst of
which he died, in consequence of a violent fever contracted
by exposure to drenching rains, while on a journey to Rich



20                  JA~MES PRIESTLY.
mond. In that city he breathed his last, in the house of his
friend, the late Colonel Robert Gamble; and his remains
were deposited very near the south door of the Episcopal
church on the hill, over which is placed a plain marble slab,
with a short inscription." 
Concerning the school which Mr. Graham  taught in his
own house, we have some remarks of Dr. Alexander, penned,
as we believe, in the last months of his life.' Here," says
he, " the writer commenced his literary career, when a small
boy. With the romantic scenery around, he has many interesting associations; but these are feelings which cannot be
communicated. Of the whole number of youth whom he
found in this school, he supposes that not one remains in the
land of the living. And when he recollects the sportive and
joyous hours, and the little foresight which any of the number had of their future course of life, he experiences an indescribable emotion, especially when he follows them, as he can
in most cases, in their various fortunes.  All the pupils
were older than himself, and most were full-grown men;
and while some rose to eminence in different professions,
others pursued a devious and downward course, and scarce
lived out half their days." t
The private narrative goes on with further particulars
concerning this infant college: " MIr. Graham  was so co1mpletely occupied with his new farm, that he paid little personal attention to the school. But his usher, James Priestly,
was fully competent.  Mr. Graham had perceived his extra* "Address before the Alumni of Washington College," Lexington, 1843.
t MS. Life of the Rev. William Graham.




JAMES PRIESTLY.                 21
ordinary memory, while yet a small boy, at a catechizing in
the congregation; and little Priestly was domiciliated with
the minister.  Here his progress in learning Latin and
Greek exceeded any thing that had been known in that coun-'ry. His memory, indeed, was so retentive, that he seemed
to forget nothing that he read or heard. It was the custom
for all the boys who boarded with the rector, to give an account of the sermons on Sabbath evening. Priestly, who
seemed asleep all the time of preaching, would, nevertheless,
repeat the sermon almost verbatim. The classics commonly
read at school, he had so completely by heart, that I hardly
ever saw a book in his hand, when hearing classes in Ovid,
Virgil, Horace or Homer. He would sometimes take his
pupils to a large spring, which bursts from the side of a
steep hill, and rushes with noise into the river just below.
The place is very romantic, and worth a visit from any one
who is in Lexington. Hither Priestly would resort with his
larger scholars, to spout the orations of Demosthenes in the
original, with all the fire of the Grecian orator himself. He
had about him an enthusiasm  which transported him beyond himself, when the sentiments which he uttered were
sublime. Twenty years later, I have seen him in a school of
two hundred boys; and when one of them did not declaim to
his mind, he would jump out into the floor, and deliver the
speech as he conceived it ought to be spoken.
" Mr. Priestly did not continue to be a teacher in the school
more than a year after my entrance. He directed his course
towards Maryland, and soon received employment as a classical instructor, first in Annapolis, and then in Georgetown."




22             PRIESTLY-LATIN STUDIES.
After removing to Kentucky as a lawyer, he resumed the
business of teaching, and returned to Georgetown. After
some time, he transferred his abode to the city of Baltimore,
where I visited him in 1801. A few years after this he received an invitation to take charge of the Cumberland College, as it was then called. at Nashville.  Here he spent the
last years of his life; and though all were impressed with his
extraordinary learning, and his high qualifications as a classical teacher, he did not succeed well in organizing and arranging an infant college. IHe was, indeed, a very eccentric, though a very amiable man, and married a woman as
eccentric as himself."  "Dr. Priestly," says the Lexington
Address, above cited, "possessed an enthusiastic ardour in
behalf of education, which I have never seen surpassed, and
succeeded in inspiring his pupils with somewhat of the same.
From him the speaker derived the first impulse in his literary
course, and he, therefore, feels a pleasure in having this opportunity of paying a deserved tribute to the memory of a
teacher who was an ornament to this institution in its earliest days."
Even under such teachers, the attainments of our young
scholar, as he represents them, were humble.  Under
Priestly he became thoroughly versed in Ruddiman's Latin
Grammar, which stuck to him through life. He was encouraged by learning that the usher had spoken of him to his
father as a boy of great promise, because, says he, " from my
earliest years a sense of deficiency has preponderated over all
vain conceit of my own abilities."  Under Mr. Graham, he
proceeded in his study of languages. He speaks of beirng sur



EARLY ORATORY.                  23
rounded by evil companions.  The school became exceedingly corrupt. A bashful and timid disposition kept him
from many excesses; but he records and laments his initiation into various dangerous games and foolish practices.
About the time that he began to read Horace, he enjoyed
the able instructions of a new usher, Archibald Roane, afterwards Governor of Tennessee.
In the life of one who afterwards attracted notice as a
public speaker, the following incidents ought to have their
place.  "The students were permitted, in order to improve
themselves in speaking, to have public exhibitions, in which
plays were acted. Much of our time was taken up in rehearsal. I always had the part of a female, as being of the
proper size. This I disliked very much, but it was pressed
upon me. As to other speaking, I made a poor hand of it,
and was seldom able to get through my speech. In writing
and composition, nothing could be more miserable. My
handwriting was as bad as it well could be, and I felt unable
to compose any thing. Once I attempted to take part in a
debate, but it was an utter failure. After the departure of
Mr. Roane, we fell again under the tuition of Mr. Graham,
and as he was fond of Natural Philosophy, he devoted himself most cheerfully to the improvement of the pupils. The
course which we followed was that which prevailed at
Princeton under Dr. Witherspoon. We had the same textbooks, and even transcribed his lectures on MIoral Philosophy
and Criticism. Much attention was then paid to practical
mathematics, surveying, mensuration and navigation."
During the whole time of his connection with the




24              CLOSE OF SCiOOL-.DAYS
Academy he was, according to subsequent and sober views,
making very little advancement in mind or morals. Environed by many idle and some profligate boys, he joined them
in many of their ways; though not without pungent checks
of conscience. But the regular course of study had been
passed through, and it was the desire of the Principal that he
should take a regular degree, conformably to powers which
had been granted by the Legislature.  For the necessary
examinations he now began to prepare with great diligence.
" I was, however, conscious," says he, "that I had passed
over most of the studies superficially, although at every
public examination I had been placed in the first grade,
more on account of my youth and small size and the
promptitude of my answers, than any solid desert. But I
had not proceeded far in my review, when my father returned
from a journey to Fredericksburg, and informed me that he
had made an engagement for me to be a tutor in the family
of General Posey, of the Wilderness, twelve miles west of
Fredericksburg. It is a little remarkable that on that
journey he staid all night at the house of Dr. Waddel
(afterwards my father-in-law), and had nearly made an
arrangement for me to be his assistant in the school which
he kept. I was only a little turned of seventeen. My
father was very peremptory in his orders, and I could do
nothing but obey."
Before we leave this beautiful and picturesque scenery
of Rockbridge, we think it suitable to give some view of the
impression which it made on the subject of this narrative.




INFLUENCE OF SCENERY.               25
It was a topic on which he loved to dwell in animated conversation, even to his latest days. His own words are these:
"Whether the scenery with which our senses are conversant in early life, has any considerable effect on the
character of the mind, is a question not easily determined.
It would be easy to theorize on the subject; and formerly
I indulged in many lucubrations, which at the time seemed
plausible, all tending to the conclusion that minds developed
under the constant view and impression of grand or picturesque scenery must in vigour and fertility of imagination
be greatly superior to those who spend their youth in
dark alleys, or in the crowded streets of a large city, where
the only objects which constantly meet the senses are stone
mnd brick walls, and dirty and offensive gutters.  The child
of the mountains, who cannot open his eyes without seeing
sublime peaks, penetrating beyond the clouds, stupendous
rocks, and deep and dark caverns, enclosed by frightful precipices, thought I, must possess a vivid impression of the
scenes of nature, by which he will be distinguished from
those born and brought up in the city, or in the dull, imonotonous plain, where there is neither grandeur nor variety.
Perhaps there might be a little vanity mingled with these
speculations, as it was my lot to draw the first breath of life
at the foot of a lofty mountain, and on the bank of a roaring
mountain torrent; where the startling reveille was often the
hideous howling of hungry wolves. But when I attempted
to recollect whether I had, in the days of childhood, ever
experienced any sensible impression from the grandeur of
surrounding objects, or had ever been led to contemplate




26              THE HOUSE MOUNTAIN.
these objects of nature with any strong emotion, I could not
satisfy myself that any thing of this sort had ever occurred.
The only reminiscence was of impressions made by the
novelty of some object, not before seen; or some fancied
resemblance to something with which I was familiar. Two
mountains, somewhat remarkable, were frequently surveyed
by me with delight; the House Mountain, and the Jump
Mountain; both appertaining to a ridge, called in the valley
the North Mountain. The first of these is a beautiful
mountain which stands out at some distance from the main
ridge, and from the middle of the valley exhibits something
of the shape and appearance of a house. From Lexington
and its vicinity, the view of this mountain is pleasant and
imposing. The idea of its resemblance to a house took
strong hold of my imagination; and especially because at
the western end there was the resemblance of a shed,
which corresponded with such an appendage to the house in
which my childhood was spent. And now, when I revisit
the place of my nativity, whilst almost every thing else is
changed, the House Mountain remains the same, and I gaze
upon it with that peculiar emotion which attends the calling
up in a lively manner the thoughts and impressions of infancy. The idea of a perfect resemblance to a house was so deeply
imprinted on my mind, in relation to this mountain, that I
was greatly discomposed and disturbed in my thoughts, when
a boy, by having occasion to travel a few miles towards the
east end of the mountain, and finding that every resemblance
of a house was gone; and when instead of one beautiful, uniform mountain, as smooth and steep as the roof of a house, I




MOUNTAIN SCENERY.                27
now beheld two rough-looking spurs, separated at a considerable distance from each other.  This obliteration of a pleasing, idea from the mind was painfiul; and whenever I was in
a situation to see the mountain under this aspect, the unpleasant impression was renewed.  Every traveller among
mountains must have noticed how remarkably they vary
their appearances, as he changes his position; and not onlyso, but from the same site a prominent mountain exhibits
a wonderful variety of aspects, according to the state of the
atmosphere.  This I believe is what is called looming, and
was much noticed by Mr. Jefferson from Monticello, particularly in relation to that remarkable isolated mountain, called
Willis's, which elevates its head to a considerable height, at
a great distance from any other mountain or hill.
" But to return to my favourite, the House Mountain. In
the days of my childhood-and perhaps it is still the casethis mountain was commonly burnt over every year; that
is, the dry leaves on the ground were burnt. When the fire
extended in a long crooked string along the side of the
mountain, and especially when near the top, the appearance
was grand and beautiful in a very dark night.  It had all
the appearance of a zig-zag fire in the sky; and whenever
it occurred, greatly attracted and delighted the boys. It
was in those days held as a maxim among boys, that no one
ever had ascended, or could ascend to the ridge or summit
of the IIouse Mountain; but since that time I understand
that not only men, but women, have been successful in
reaching the top; and have thence surveyed the varied and
delightful landscape of the valley, with its villages, and its




28               THE JU31P MOUNTAIN.
farms, its rivers and smaller streams.  I can scarcely conceive of a pleasanter prospect than that which might be
enjoyed from the summit of the House Mountain.
"As to the Jump Mountain, it was only occasionally
that I got a view of it; and although the descent is very
abrupt on the north side, so that the top of the mountain
actually seems to project, my mind would have received a
slighter impression from it, had not the first view of it been
associated with a story told me by an older boy, that the
reason why it was called the Jump Mountain, was because,
at a certain time, a man had actually jumped off the top of
the mountain, and fallen dead at its foot. This made a
deep impression on my mind, and although I have seen the
mountain hundreds' of times since, I believe I never saw it
without thinking of the man who took such an awful leap.
When that species of taste is developed which delights in
landscapes, I have not been able, with any precision, to
ascertain. As far as my own experience goes, or rather as
far as memory furnishes me with facts, I think that while a
boy at school, I hadt no consciousness of the exercise of any
such faculty.  The love of novelty is almost coeval with our
existence; but the love of the beauties of nature is slow in
its development, and when there is no culture, it is often
scarcely observable in mature age.  Some men cast their eye
over a lovely landscape with as little emotion as is experienced by the horses on which they ride. The only thought
perhaps is, how rich the land? how many barrels of corn, or
hogsheads of tobacco, or bushels of wheat, might be raised
here, to the acre?  And even the horse will experience an




THE NATURAL BRIDGE.                29
emotion as elevated as his rider's, if there should happen to
be a good clover-field in sight. As it relates to objects of
sublimity, I have found it, except in a few cases, difficult to
distinguish this emotion from mere wonder, or admiration.
But in this same valley, and not very remote from the objects of which I have spoken, there is one which, I think,
produces the feeling which is denominated the sublime, more
definitely and sensibly than any that I have ever seen. I
refer to the Natural Bridge, from which the county takes its
name. It is not my object to describe this extraordinary
iusus naturae, as it may be called. In fact, no representation
which can be given by the pen or pencil can convey any
adequate idea of the object, or one that will have the least
tendency to produce the emotion excited by a view of the
object itself.  There are some things, then, which the traveller, however eloquent, cannot communicate Lo his readers.
All I intend is, to mention the effect produced by a sight of
the Natural Bridge on my own mind. When a boy of fourteen or fifteen, I first visited this curiosity. Having stood on
the top, and looked down into the deep chasm above and
below the bridge, without any new or very strong emotions,
as the scene bore a resemblance to many which are common
to that country, I descended by the usual circuitous path
to the bottom, and came upon the stream or brook some distance below the bridge. The first view which I obtained of
the beautiful and elevated blue limestone arch, springing up
to the clouds, produced an emotion entirely new; the feeling
was as though something within sprung up to a great height
by a kind of sudden impulse.  That was the animal sensa



30            EMOTION OF THE SUBLIME.
tion which accompanied the genuine emotion of the sublime.
Many years afterwards, I again visited the bridge. I entertained the belief, that I had preserved in my mind, all along,
the idea of the object; and that now I should see it without
emotion. But the fact was not so. The view, at this time,
produced a revival of the original emotion, with the conscious feeling that the idea of the object had faded away,
and become both obscure and diminutive, but was now restored, in an instant, to its original vividness, and magnitude.
The emotion produced by an object of true sublimity, as it
is very vivid, so it is very short in its continuance. It seems,
then, that novelty must be added to other qualities in the
object, to produce this emotion distinctly. A person living
near the bridge, who should see it every day, might be
pleased with the object, but would experience, after a while,
nothing of the vivid emotion of the sublime. Thus, I think;
it must be accounted for, that the starry heavens, or the sun
shining in his strength, are viewed with little emotion of this
kind, although much the sublimest objects in our view; we
have been accustomed to view them daily, from our infancy.
But a bright-coloured rainbow, spanning a large arch in the
heavens, strikes all classes of persons with a mingled emotion
of the sublime and beautiful; to which a sufficient degree of
novelty is added, to render the impression vivid, as often as
it occurs. I have reflected on the reason why the Natural
Bridge produces the emotion of the sublime, so well defined
and so vivid; but I have arrived at nothing satisfactory. It
must be resolved into an ultimate law of our nature, that a
novel object of that elevation and form will produce such an




THE SUBLIME.                   31
effect. Any attempt at analyzing objects of beauty and
sublimity only tends to produce confusion in our ideas. To
artists, such analysis may be useful; not to increase the
emotion, but to enable them to imitate more effectually
the objects of nature by which it is produced. Although I
have conversed with many thousands who had seen the Natural Bridge; and although the liveliness of the emotion is
very different in different persons; yet I never saw one, of
any class, who did not view the object with considerable
emotion. And none have ever expressed disappointment
from having had their expectations raised too high, by the
description previously received. Indeed, no previous description communicates any just conception of the object as it
appears; and the attempts to represent it by the pencil, as
far as I have seen them, are pitiful. Painters would show
their wisdom by omitting to represent some of the objects
of nature, such as a volcano in actual ebullition, the sea in
a storm, the conflagration of a great city, or the scene of
a battle-field. The imitation must be so faint and feeble,
that the attempt, however skilfully executed, is apt to produce disgust, instead of admiration."




CHAPTER SECOND.
1789.
TUTORSHIP-RELIGIOUS VIEWS-GENERAL POSEY-MRS. TYLER —AWAKENING-FLAVEL —WORK OF GRACE.
EFORE we accompany the youthful teacher on his travels,
it is proper that we should gather some notices of his
moral and religious experience, during the period of childhood
and youth.  This we shall do chiefly from certain volumes
of manuscript Reminiscences, in the hands of his children.
Having been religiously and even strictly educated, after
the manner of the old Presbyterians, he was not without
solemn awakenings from time to time. At an early age, he
received deep impressions from the sermon of a travelling
minister; but, as a caution to parents, he records that these
instantly vanished upon his hearing the discourse disparaged
by his father and mother. At the particular period last
mentioned by us, his religious views were crud6 and insufficient. " Iy only notion of religion was that it consisted in
becoming better. I had never heard of any conversion
among the Presbyterians.    The state of morals and religion in that country, after the Revolutionary War, was very




STATE OF MORALS.                 33
bad. The old continental soldiers, many of whom in that
quarter were convicts, now returned, and having received
certificates for their wages, were able to live for a while in
idleness and dissipation. Robert:-:-, a shrewd, intelligent man, who was one of this number, had acquired a house
in Lexington, the old farm-house of Isaac Campbell, who
owned the land. IHere he collected all the vagrants in the
country, and a drunken bout would be kept up for weeks.
They called themselves the Congress, and made Bob their
president. Hard battles were fought here. The better
class of people were as much injured by the profane and
licentious manners of the officers of the disbanded army, as
the lower classes by the soldiery.
" There were a few pious people in the land, who kept up
the power of religion, and were as salt to preserve the mass
from universal putrefaction. Among these, the elder John
Lyle, and his wife Flora, my aunt, were conspicuous; to
whom may be added an old Mr. M'Nutt, Alexander Walker,
John Wilson and Hugh Weir; the two last being ruling
elders in Monmouth.  These persons spake often one with
another about the affairs of the Kingdoml. They were exceedingly dreaded by the wildest of the people, being both
reverenced and hated.  I remember having been at a dance
in Lexington, when John Lyle, the elder, called to see a
man with whomr he had business; and it is inconceivable
what a consternation was spread through the company, when
his grave and stately form was seen to approach the house.' Much of our time, which should have been spent in
study, was consumed in playing cards, at which I became a




34              DEPARTURE FROM HOME.
great adept; so managing, however, as to avoid detection,
except in one instance. The vacation had taken place, and
a number of us agreed to meet in the Academy, and there
pursue our usual amusement. But while we surrounded the
table, and after the cards had been dealt, Mr. Roane entered
the room. Seeing what we were about, he seemed confounded and passed along. We were in great alarm, and fell
into a hot dispute as to whether he had made any discovery;
when after a few minutes he returned and spoke to us in a
very serious and admonitory manner. But he said that if
we would pledge ourselves never to be guilty of such an
offence again while we were students, he would not inform
against us. To this we readily agreed, and I kept my
promise, for I have never thrown a card from that day to
this."
From what has been said, it is sufficiently obvious, that
he left his father's house with no tokens as to the manner of
life which he was destined to lead. His journey was a solitary one, across the Blue Ridge, a distance of one hundred
and foity miles. And this brought him  to a new and important period of his history.
At the early age of seventeen Archibald Alexander left
his father's house, to become a private tutor in the family
of General John Posey, of the Wilderness, in the county of
Spotsylvania  The faimily residence was in a very retired sitnation, where a few persons of wealth had valuable estates.
Among these, visits were frequent, but few other persons came
into the neighbourlood.  General Posey had done service
in the Revolution as a commander of riflemen in Morgan's




THE WILDERNESS.                 3.5
famous corps, in which he finally rose to be Colonel. He was
a man of noble appearance and courtly manners. Mrs. Posey, who had been a beauty in her youth, was now at the age
of forty a fine and stately person. She was addicted to the
pleasures of society, but generally took the side of religion, in
a day when it was frequently impugned, and seemed to be
vacillating between duty and the world. Though somewhat
decayed in wealth, the Poseys maintained much of the style
which belonged to old Virginia families. The pupils were
John Posey and George and Reuben Thornton, sons of a former marriage; a daughter, Lucy, came in for occasional lessons.
The young preceptor felt the embarrassment of his new
situation, and was burdened with a sense of his incompetency.
One of the scholars was larger than himself; and they had
all been taught with some accuracy. Their youthful tutor,
though he had read largely, was well grounded in nothing
but the grammar. Cornelius Nepos, which he read with
them, was new to him and offered many difficulties, and his
nights were often spent in preparing for the next day's lesson,
amidst regrets that he had not made more faithful preparation. But he ascribed to this pressure all the accuracy which
he afterwards attained in the Latin language. In the latter
part of his life he has been heard to say, that during the
half-century then past, he had read more Latin than English.
He carried some of his scholars into Caesar and Virgil. The
house contained a small country library, and he devoted his
spare hours to the reading of history, of which his knowledge
was scanty. In this way he perused with much avidity
Rollin's Ancient History, his History of Rome, in sixteen




36             RELIGIOUS ATTAINMENTS.
octavo volumes, Rapin's England, besides books of travels.
He attempted Locke's Essay, but with little comprehension
of the argument. In after life he was accustomed to dissuade
instructors from entering their pupils prematurely into philosophical works, and said in reference to this ineffectual attempt, " This fact shows that a capacity and relish for any
particular study may be late in developing itself. Mental Science became afterwards my favourite study." He speaks about
this period of one Mr. Jones, a neighbour, who had Cartesian
books, to whom he lent Maltin's Grammar of Philosophy, as
this friend was unacquainted with the Newtonian system. In
the seclusion of the Wilderness, far from all congenial company, he was seldom without a book in his hand, except when
he was giving up his mind to solitary meditation.
As to his religious views at this time, the records which
he has left are happily full and explicit. He had learnt the
Shorter Catechism and a good portion of the Larger, but
without reflection, so that he describes his ignorance as profound.  With an utter aversion to what was spiritual, he
cherished a strong predilection in favour of religion in general,
and particularly in favour of that in which he had been brought
up. Of the two classes of professors in his native county,
his father belonged to the more liberal and accommodating
and the son had been wont to laugh at any who gave signs
of extraordinary devotion.  Up to this time he had never felt
any thing like a serious influence, except of the most transient
kind. From Mr. Graham, the Rev. John B. Smith, and
other l)reachers of the time, who visited IRockbridge, he some



PREACHING OF MR. GRAHAM.             37
times heard startling truth, with a momentary effect. IHe
remembered all his life a sermon of Adam Rankin, who vehemently cried in one of his addresses, "0 ye people of
Timber Ridge, if you are determined not to go to heaven, I
will go without you!" "It is remarkable," said he, "that I
never paid any attention to what our own preacher said in
the pulpit. His voice was very low, and much interrupted
by continual hemming, or clearing the throat. I thought
him the worst preacher of all that I ever heard, but was astonished to hear a sensible man, who had no love to him.
say that he had more sense than all the rest put together.
While I was under his tuition, he resigned the charge of both
his congregations, and then preached in the Academy to the
students; but the house was crowded with the people of his
late charge. The students were warned, that these sermons
they must remember, for they would be required to give the
substance in writing. This caused us to hear with attention.
He began with the proofs of the being of a God, and went
on systematically. I remembered a good deal, but understood
nothing. One day however he took a practical subject, and
discoursed about the new views given by the illumination of
the Holy Spirit. Mly attention was gained at the commencement and fixed throughout the sermon. It seemed as if a
new world had suddenly risen to my view; but as soon as the
discourse ended the scene vanished, and for years afterwards
I never once recollected that I had such new views."  Such
was the state of mind, when he was brought by Divine Providence into a situation which was to prove so important to his
higher interests.




38               A RELIGIOUS FRIEND.
In the house of General Posey, an aged Christian lady,
Mrs. Tyler, had found a refuge. She was a Baptist, and
was well bred and well informed, having seen better days.
In the embarrassing circumstances of the young family tutor,
Providence raised him up an invaluable friend in this excellent
woman. She corrected his opinions and guided him in the
choice of useful books.  Sometimes she related her own religious experience. In early life she had been gay and fond
of admiration. The only form of Christianity with which
she was then acquainted was that of the English Establishment. When the Baptists first began to preach in the country she held them in contempt, and used to go to their meetings purposely to ridicule the blunders of their ministers.
But under a discourse from an aged stranger, she found her
peace of mind effectually destroyed. In her deep and continued distress she was without any adviser, and knew not
whither to look for direction and relief. At length she came
deliberately to the conclusion that she should certainly be
lost. Her efforts were vain, and she sank into a calm despair.
But she remembered to have heard that the souls in perdition
blaspheme God in their anguish. This she felt that she could
never do.  She should for ever bless God for his goodness.
Thinking thus, she found the plan of salvation by Christ
opened to her view, and, filled with admiration, she owned
herself willing to take up the cross and follow Christ. Nor
was the self-denial small to which she was called. The Baptists, under whose ministry she was awakened, were a despised
people in Virginia. Yet she joined them, in the face of retlionstralce and contempt fronm all her connections.  Sucb




BAPTIST PREACHING.                39
was the narrative which she gave, adding as she turned to
the inexperienced young man, " Now I know all this must
appear utter nonsense to you, who have' felt nothing of the
kind." He was silent, but was deeply convinced, from the
solemnity of her manner, that there must be a reality in
these things.
Mrs. Tyler did not address to him many observations as
to his own particular case, but she often spoke of religious
matters. In her view, the Presbyterians, as she had seen
them, were sound in doctrine, but deficient in inward experience. She was anxious that he should listen to the best
preachers of her own persuasion. This was not easy, as
those who appeared in Spotsylvania were of an inferior sort.
The Baptists were divided into two classes, known respectively as the Regular and the Separate; and the former
regarded the latter as wild and fanatical.  The Church of
the Wilderness was served by the Separate Baptists. "Their
stated preacher was Aaron Bledsoe, a stout, corpulent man,
who, when he preached in warm weather, took off his coat
and neckcloth, threw open his collar, and generally became
so earnest that before he was done he was black in the face.
In every sermon he gave an account of his own experience."
The people of wealth seldom attended, but when any such
happened to be present, Bledsoe treated them  without
leniency, and sometimes inveighed against learning, it was
supposed for the benefit of the young teacher.  These meetings exhibited those strange bodily agitations which afterwards became so frequent in the Southern revivals. Not




40              THE PIOUS MILLWRIGHT.
only were there enthusiastic responses and outcries, but
leaping, contortions, swooning, and convulsions.
Mrs. Tyler was mortified at these exhibitions, and often
expressed the wish that her young friend might hear her
own minister, whose name was Frisbie. For this purpose
they once set out on a short journey beyond the Rappahannock. The river was high, and they crossed it on horseback at some peril. At the house of a worthy Scotch Presbyterian named Morrison, they enjoyed a hospitable reception. It was the time of a great meeting, or sacramental
season, among the Regular Baptists. The assembly was too
large to be contained by the small meeting-house.  Mr.
Frisbie preached out of doors. His text was, " We preach
not ourselves, but Jesus Christ, and ourselves your servants
for Jesus' sake." Mr. Alexander records that he was too
much occupied with the strange and promiscuous assembly
to pay much attention to the discourse. It contained, however, a fling at learning, and yet was highly pleasing to IMrs.
Tyler, who was disappointed that it had made so little impression.  But the words of the private record will best continue this part of the narrative.
" About this time General Posey had a mill built on his
plantation, and the millwright was a Baptist by the name
of Waller, a brother, I think, of a famous Baptist preacher
called Jack Waller.  I often talked with this man about his
business and other matters; but one day he unexpectedly
turned to me and asked me whether I believed that before a
man could enter the kingdom  of heaven he must be born
again. I knew not what to say, for I had for some time




THE NEW BIRTH.                  41
been puzzled about the new birth. However, I answered in
the affirmative. He then asked whether I had experienced
the new birth. I hesitated, and said,' Not that I knew of.''Ah,' said he,'if you had ever experienced this change you
would know something about it!' Here the conversation
ended; but it led me to think more seriously whether there
were any such change. It seemed to be in the Bible; but I
thought there must be some method of explaining it away;
for among the Presbyterians I had never heard of any one
who had experienced the new birth, nor could I recollect
ever to have heard it mentioned. This became about the
same time a subject of discussion at the table, after old Mrs.
Tyler had withdrawn, especially on Sunday. In these conversations Mrs. Posey, who professed to be a'seeker,' defended the Baptist opinions, and so did old Mrs. William
Jones, who I believe was a truly pious woman. General
Posey declared that he did not believe in any such miraculous change, but added that he would credit it, if Mrs. Posey
should ever profess that she had experienced it. Mr. William Jones was a good-natured, luxurious, skeptical man,
who avoided giving offence by any avowal of his opinions,
but plainly insinuated that religion was a disease of weak
and superstitious minds, and that all that was necessary for
a cure was an acquaintance with philosophy. Major Jones
cared for none of these things. His opinion was that preaching was as much a trade as any thing else." These details
give glimpses of a state of society which many a reader will
recognise as familiar.
Mrs. Tyler pursued her calm religious course amidst all




42                   SKEPTICISM.
these misapprehensions.  She loved the Critings of John
Flavel, and could not but desire to make them known to
the youthful Presbyterian inquirer. As her eyes were weak
she often sent for him to read to her, a request with which
he complied at first out of courtesy, and afterwards from
some increase of interest in the author.  Learning that
Flavel was a Presbyterian, he took pains to discover what
were his views of regeneration. He had never read any
thing upon the evidences of Christianity. Though he knew
of infidel books in the hands of other young men, he had
never read themn, feeling no interest in the argument. But
now, when his mind began to be enlarged by the reading of
history, and he found that there were other religions, the
professors of which were fully confident of their systems, he
was staggered, and asked himself what basis he had for his
own belief. This doubt was increased by the knowledge
that many intelligent men in the country rejected revelation, and under the influence of French philosophy that
these opinions were rapidly on the increase. Still he felt a
strong reluctance to give up the truth of Christianity, and
the prejudices of education were salutary.
"So ignorant was I (thus he writes) that I did not
know that any book had ever been written in defence of
Christianity; of course, I knew not whither to go to have
my doubts removed and my faith strengthened. M3y mind
became anxious on the subject, which frequently dwelt on
my thoughts. It happened, providentially, that into a trunk
of classical and scientific books, sent to me from home at my
request, some lady had thrown a coarse pamphlet, which I




SOAME JENYNS.                  43
had often seen tossing about at home; and when I now saw
it, I felt displeased that this old pamphlet should have been
sent. But on looking at the title-page, I observed the word'Evidences,; and it struck me immediately that it was possibly something in favour of Christianity. On further inspection, I saw that I was not mistaken, for the whole title was'Internal Evidences of the Christian Religion, by Soame
Jenyns, Esq.' I was rejoiced; and as all the family had
gone to church, I sat down and began to read.  At every
step conviction flashed across my mind, with such bright
and overwhelming evidence, that when I ceased to read, the
room had the appearance of being illuminated. I never had
such a feeling from the simple discovery of truth. And it
is my opinion, that no argument of the external or historical
kind would have produced such a conviction."  This incident sufficiently accounts for the warm terms in which, even
to the close of life, Dr. Alexander was accustomed to recommend this treatise of Jenyns, though with an earnest protest against the whimsies of the brilliant but sometimes chimerical author.
What has been related shows a mind under divine leadings. In addition, he says of himself, that he had often
prayed mentally when he was in danger, or when his friends
were ill, but was wholly a stranger to secret prayer, as a habitual practice. Now he began to have a concern about his
salvation, which led him  to retirement.  Every morning,
when the weather would permit, he took a long, solitary
walk through the fields, terminating it at the Wilderness
Creek, which ran along the border of the plantation. Here




44                     FLAVEL.
he found some plots of green grass, surrounded by thickets,
and overhung by great birch trees; and here, with his
knife, he made a booth or arbour. To this sequestered spot
he used to retire for prayer; taking some volume with him,
on the Lord's day.  He records that on a certain Sunday
evening, his meditations of God and divine things became
solemn and delightful, so that he was unwilling to withdraw
his thoughts from these objects, when it became necessary to
return home. But all this was without a radical reformation
of character.
" My services as a reader (such is his own account) were
frequently in requisition, not only to save the eyes of
old Mrs. Tyler, but on Sundays for the benefit of the
whole family. On one of these Sabbath evenings, I was requested to read out of Flavel.  The part on which I had
been regularly engaged was the'Method of Grace;' but
now, by some means, I was led to select one of the sermons
on Revelation iii. 20, "Behold I stand at the door and
knock," &c. The discourse was upon the patience, forbearance and kindness of the Lord Jesus Christ to impenitent
and obstinate sinners. As I proceeded to read aloud, the
truth took effect on my feelings, and every word I read
seemed applicable to my own case.  Before I finished the
discourse, these emotions became too strong for restraint,
and my voice began to falter. I laid down the book, rose
hastily, and went out with a full heart, and hastened to my
place of retirement.  No sooner had I reached the spot than
I dropped upon my knees, and attempted to pour out my
feelings in prayer; but I had not continued many minutes




EARLY JOY.                    45
in this exercise before I was overwhelmed with a flood of
joy. It was transport such as I had never known before,
and seldom since. I have no recollection of any distinct
views of Christ; but I was filled with a sense of the goodness and mercy of God; and this joy was accompanied with
a full assurance that my state was happy, and that if I was
then to die, I should go to heaven. This ecstacy was too high
to be lasting, but as it subsided, my feelings were calm and
happy. It soon occurred to me that possibly I had experienced the change called the new birth. But as I was walking homeward, the thought presented itself, that if this was
indeed conversion, the effect would be that I should leave off
all my sins; and I was willing to make this the criterion of
my state. For a few days I guarded against every thing
which I knew to be wrong; but in a week my former feelings returned, and when exposed to temptation I transgressed as before. The next day the recollection filled me
with unutterable anguish; for, agreeably to my own judgment, my hopes of heaven, which had been so strong, were
all blasted. I make no remarks on this joyful frame. Such
experiences are not uncommon, and are often taken for conversion."
By reading so much in Flavel, and hearing the remarks
of his aged friend, he began to emerge somewhat from his
former ignorance, and to comprehend the cardinal doctrines
of Christianity. About this time, a little book, " Jenks on
Justification by Faith," fell into his hands. This treatise
he read with an effect not unlike what had proceeded from




46            INCREASE OF KNOWLEDGE.
and perplexity as to the way of acceptance with God, or, as
he expressed it, he was leaning on the old covenant. " Now
every thing appeared as clear as if written with a sunbeam.
The effect on Mrs. Posey was similar; for she spoke of the
book in the most exalted terms. I recollect that the author,
who was a clergyman of the Church of England, confesses
le had preached for a long time without knowing the true
method of salvation. And when his eyes were opened, he
published this little volume, to open the eyes of other legalists. It is somewhat remarkable, that from that day to this,
a period of half a century, chiefly spent among books, I have
never seen another copy of this work, and have never conversed with any one who knew it; so that at length I began
to think that I had forgotten the true title; but about a
year ago, I happened to see a favourable mention of it.
under the very name which I had preserved in my memory.
" I now began to read Flavel for my own instruction, and
also Burkitt, which was the only commentary in the house.
The two great doctrines of Justification and Regeneration
I began to understand, at least in theory.  A good sermon
was now a feast to me. At the Wilderness meeting-house,
one Sunday, we found in the pulpit a grave, well-looking
man, named Saunders, who had for his text, I John ii. 2, 3.
His explanation of Christ's propitiatory work for the whole
world, in which he opposed the Arminians and Universalists,
gave me great satisfaction.  He was one of the Regular
Baptists.
" This year, 1788-89, was in many respects the most important of my life. If I had not the boeinnings of a work of




PROGRESS OF AWAKENING.              47
grace, my mind was enlightened in the knowledge of truths,
of which I had lived in total ignorance. I began to love the
truth, and to seek after it, as for hid treasure. To John
Flavel I certainly owe more than to any uninspired author.
During the year I paid one visit to my friends in Lexington,
and heard Mr. Graham preach a sermon on the text,' For our
righteousnesses are as filthy rags.' The utter insignificancy
of our own works, and the need of a better righteousness
than our own, were of course the subjects.  It was the first
intelligent discourse to which I had listened since my new
understanding of the doctrines in question, and it gave me
great satisfaction; but when I looked around upon the
people, I had the impression that they were generally in the
same state of darkness and legality in which I had lived so
long. As good Mrs. Tyler, who I doubt not had a tender
concern for my salvation and prayed often for me, was a
Baptist, she naturally wished me to know what she believed
to be the truth on that subject; and she put into my hands
Gill's work on Baptism.  This perplexed me not a little, for
I had strong predilection for the way in which I had been
educated, especially as I found that Flavel was a Presbyterian. And in turning over the large volume containing his
works (the two being bound in one) I met with a controversial piece on this very subject, written against Cary. This I
read with avidity and with full conviction that his arguments
were valid, though I now doubt as to the conclusiveness of
some texts on which he mainly rests the cause."
At the close of the year he returned to his native scenes,
in the beautiful and romantic county of Rockbricge.




CHAlPTER THIRD.
1789-1790.
RETURN HOME —-GREAT REVIVAL-VISIT BEYOND THE MOUNTAINS-REVIVAL
SCENES-STRUGGLES OF SOUL —SAMUEL MORRIS-JOHN BLAIR SMITH —
WILLIAM GRAHAM-PROGRESS OF INWARD WORK.
THE period to which our narrative now brings us was remarkable, in the history of the Southern churches, for that
wide-spread religious movement known as the Great Revival.
As few wele more familiar with this awakening than Dr.
Alexander, and few have left more copious notes in regard to
it, we feel justified in giving particulars which may sometimes
lead us to deviate from the strict line of biography. Many
of the sketches of eminent imen are too interesting to be
omitted, and belong to the characteristic history of the times.
It must have been in the year 1789 that the young
preceptor returned to his father's house, with a determination
to supply the defects of his intellectual training.  Ve find
him therefore retiring for days to the woods, and devoting
himself to Euclid and Horace.  But the year was to be signalized by higher progress. He found his eldest sister much
changed, and earnestly engaged in seeking acquaintance with
God.  A startling death among the connection brought him




VISIT TO THE REVIVAL.              45
into new terrors. At the same time he was thrown intc
confusion by Dr. Chauncy's defence of universal salvation,
which was officiously put into his hands by a latitudinarian
doctor. There was at this time no church in Lexington;
but he speaks of a funeral discourse which so affected his mind
that he retired into a grove with a volume of Whitefield's
sermons, and spent the afternoon in reading and prayer;
and with his characteristic attachment to localities, he adds
that this grove is now cut down. On a vacant Sunday he
heard one of Willison's Sermons on the Lord's Supper read
to the congregation, and was convinced of his duty in regard
to this ordinance, while he knew that he was destitute of
preparation.
A rumour had come into the quiet. settlement, of an
extraordinary religious awakening, on the other side of the
Mounrtain, as the great dividing Blue Ridge is familiarly
called. The Rev. Mr. Graham prepared to visit the scene
of these wonders, and proposed to take young Alexander
among other companions. All such journeys were of course
made on horseback, and amidst mountain scenes and in a
hospitable country were sufficiently exciting. " On our journey," says he, " Mr. Graham was very open and communicative; at first on philosophical subjects, in which he took great
delight, and then upon religious matters, when he found me
interested in these. We discoursed particularly on the subject of Justification by Faith and Regeneration. My companion, Samuel Wilson, was astonished to hear me converse
on topics, concerning which when together at the Academy
neither of us had formed any opinions. Mr. Graham  also
4




50               I ALK  BY THE WAY.
was surprised at the extent and accuracy of the knowledge
which I appeared to have on subjects to which very few
young men in our part of the country had turned their
thoughts.  The fact was, I purposely turned the conversation
to those interesting truths on which my mind had been so
much exercised, merely with a view to ascertain whether the
conclusions to which I had come after much thought and
inquiry were in unison with his views, and whether he agreed
with Flavel and the other authors I had been reading. I had
no thought of making any display of knowledge; for it never
entered my mind that I had acquired any stock of theological doctrine. These conversations, however, had a depressing
influence on my companion, who was several years older than
myself, and who was conscious that he knew little about
matters on which I talked so freely."
The party was hastening to arrive at a celebration-f the
Lord's Supper, at a place called Briery, near the borders of
Charlotte and Prince Edward Counties. On their way they
were entertained at Liberty, in the house of Michael Graham,
father of the late Professor Samuel L. Graham, of the Union
Theological Seminary. The whole time was spent in hearing from him and especially from his pious and more eloquent
wife, accounts of the revival, with narratives of particular
cases. Here they heard of the conversion of James Turner,
afterwards known as one of the most remarkable masters of'
natural but irresistible oratory. Turner had been a profligate and a ringleader in all the profane and violent amusements of the time. But now he was holding meetings and
exhorting. Pursuing their expedition they came to the house




SAMUEL MORRIS.                 51
of Major Trigg, whose aged mother was one of the Rev.
Samuel Davies's communicants, a woman of great piety and
goodness. She spoke of Mr. Davies with much reverence and
affection. She said to Mr. Graham, "I have never attained
to the faith of assurance, but only to the faith of reliance."
He answered promptly, " If you know you have the faith of
reliance, you have the faith of assurance also." The month
was August, and our travellers were exposed to the rays of
a Virginian sun, without the shelter of an umbrella, a convenience (our journalist notes) which had not then come into
use. But they were joyfully welcomed to the house of Samuel
Morris, a name sacred in the annals of American Presbyterianism, which may justly detain us for a little.
Mr. Morris had removed from Hanover, and was now
residing in the lower end of Campbell County. It was he
who was instrumental in the revival of gospel truth, by the
reading of evangelical books in the Reading-House of Hanover
County, long before the arrival of any Presbyterian missionary.
"As we approached through the fields, we saw the old
gentleman walking homeward, as if like Isaac he had been
meditating."  "Samuel Morris was at this time between
seventy and eighty years Qf age, but had the appearance of
firm health. But for his being bowed with age, his stature
must have been six feet. His frame was large, his shoulders
were broad, and though he was somewhat bald, the thick hair
about the sides of the head was not gray. He had one son,
and a number of daughters. A[r. Morris gave Mr. Graham a
detailed account of the origin and progress of Presbyterianism
in Hanover, before Mr. Davies came to settle there; the




52               SMITH AND GRAHAM.
same, I presume, which he put into writing for Mr. Da.
vies, who included it in a letter to Dr. Bellamy. The old
gentleman had heard of the revival in Prince Edward,
and seemed to be much interested in it. He said he understood that one of the preachers, Mr. Lacy, resembled Whitefield."
There had never been any revival in the Valley, and few
of the Scottish Presbyterians there resident had much faith
in these sudden awakenings. They had heard of a work of
this kind in Western Pennsylvania, under the labours of the
Rev. Joseph Smith, the Rev. John M'Millan, and others;
but the general impression was that these religious commotions would pass away like the morning cloud. John Lyle,
an eminently vain, ostentatious, and dissipated young man,
who had avowed infidel opinions, returned from Franklin,
now East Tennessee, with a mind and character signally
renewed, and this served to awaken new expectations of the
scenes which they were about to visit.
As the travellers approached the place of their destination, there was an interesting meeting between the two
great preachers of Virginia. Mr. Graham had enjoyed very
little friendly intercourse with Mr. Smith for a number of
years; indeed a certain coolness existed between them in
consequence of some difference in Presbytery, which was not
however of a personal nature.  But now Mr. Smith had
specially invited Mr. Graham to come over and see the
great works of the Lord. The Rockbridge party turned
aside from the road to await the arrival of the )eoile returning from the Saturday's service, which usually preceded




MR. LEGRAND.                   53
the communion. "While we were here," says the narrative, "a novel and solemn scene presented itself. A large
company of young people on horseback, as they slowly
passed along, were engaged in singing hymns. Most of this
company, I afterwards learned, were young converts, who
had come over from Caswell County, North Carolina, with
the Rev. Nash LeGrand. They had travelled fifty or sixty
miles to attend the sacrament, and were full of zeal and
affection. The music resounded through the woods in an
agreeable and impressive manner.  Mr. LeGrand, who had
been remarkably converted during the revival, having just
finished his college course, was, with very little preparation,
except an ardent zeal, brought into the ministry by Dr.
Smith, and sent into North Carolina, where a powerful influence seemed to accompany his preaching. After nearly all
the people who were returning had passed, came Dr. John
Blair Smith, accompanied by several of the elders of his
church, and other friends. As soon as he espied Mr. Graham, he stopped and received him with a hearty greeting."
They were now in the very midst of revival scenes.
Among the persons, then in youth, whom they here met,
was William Hill, now the venerable Dr. Hill of Winchester.
But the prominent figure in every group was undoubtedly Dr. John B. Smith. It is unnecessary to adduce many
facts concerning a man so well known in our history. He
was a son of the Rev. Dr. Robert Smith, of Pequea, Pennsylvania, and of course a brother of the Rev. Samuel Stanhope Smith, D. D., of Princeton. Smith, as well as Gra



54               JOHN BLAIR SMITH.
ham, was educated at the college of New Jersey, and when
his brother Samuel founded Hampden Sidney College,
John became a tutor or professor in the same, and was
licensed by the Presbytery of Hanover. When his brother
was called to Princeton, John Blair Smith was made President of Hampden Sidney.
"His natural disposition was full of vivacity, his temper
quick, and his action rapid. At the beginning of his ministry he did not manifest great zeal, and his preaching was
less impressive than his brother's; but at the commencement of the great revival in 1786 or 1787, he underwent a
remarkable change in his own feelings and in the fervency
of his preaching, so that he became one of the most powerful preachers I ever heard. In person he was about the
middle size.  His hair was uncommonly black, and was
divided on the top, and fell down on each side of the face.
A large blue eye of open expression was so piercing that it
was common to say Dr. Smith looked you through. His
voice had an unusual solemnity, and always affected me,
whatever was said. Dr. Smith was as fearless a man as
ever lived, and his quickness of temper sometimes led him to
act rashly, and incur enmity which might have been avoided.
As a companion, he was most agreeable. His treatment of
young ministers was soothing to the diffident, and his manner of introducing them to strangers was peculiarly agreeable to their feelings. His preaching was far from being
uniform, for sometimes he fell short of his usual force from
the state of his feelings.  His sermons were always well
prepared, but nothing was written out, except the introduc



JOHN BLAIR SMITH.                55
tion, which he commonly prepared with great care; and its
only fault was that it was grandiloquent. Within the leaves
of a small Bible which he held in his hand he had a small
paper containing the introduction, all the divisions and subdivisions, leading thoughts, and cited texts, which last he
always read out of the Bible. His speaking was impetuous;
after going on deliberately for a while, he would suddenly
grow warm and be carried away with a violence of feeling,
which was commonly communicated to his hearers. If
opposed to him in sentiment they were often aroused to great
wrath. The most powerful sermon I ever heard from him
was in defence of the revival as a work of God. It was
directed more especially against the Seceders, who, to a man,
set themselves in opposition to it. It was delivered in the
grove near New Monmouth, immediately after the communion, to the largest congregation which had ever been
collected in that county. Many of the leading Seceders
were present. He told them of the opposition of their sect
to Whitefield, and to the revival at Cambuslang. Next
day I heard one of them say that if ever any man was possessed of a devil in modern times, it was John Blair Smith
when he delivered that sermon. He was eminently discriminating and perspicacious; but if he failed to see through a
difficulty at the first glance, he commonly failed to do so by
any further attempt. He was perhaps censorious in his
judgment of professors who discovered any lukewarmness,
and would often declare to his friends of such and such persons, that they did not possess a spark of religion. No man
in Virginia was so much admired as a preacher; but after




56                REVIVAL MEETINGS.
his removal to Philadelphia, where he bestowed more care
on accuracy, he lost much of that impressive manner, which
carried away and captivated his hearers during the revival."
On arriving at the neighbourhood of Little Roanoke
Bridge, the company addressed themselves to preparation fbr
the approaching solemnities. There were strangers from every
quarter, including fifty from Carolina. Some of them were
newly converted young men, who spoke with warmth and
freedom of their late worldliness or even infidelity, and their
present faith and joy. " The meeting was very much crowded.
Here (says the record) I first got a fair sight of Dr. John
Blair Smith. His appearance was more solemn than that
of any one I had ever seen, and caused a feeling of awe to
come over me. As Mr. Graham was exhausted by riding in
the heat, Dr. Smith called on a very young man, Mr. C.,
to pray. Next he called on William Hill to exhort.  This
astonished me. How a person so young should have the
courage and ability to speak in public and before such an
audience, I could not conceive; but he delivered a warm and
pungent address, on the Barren Fig Tree, which affected my
feelings very much. Then, after prayer, Dr. Smith himself
addressed a powerful and solemn discourse to the company.
" My mind was considerably excited by what I saw and
heard on the Saturday evening. The question of professing
my faith returned upon me with force. Having never spoken
freely to any one of my own religious exercises, I felt great
backwardness to open the subject, and indeed I had had no
opportunity of conversing with my pastor. On the morning
of the Sabbath the roads were covered with multitudes flock



THE SACRAMENT                   57
ing to the place of worship, at Briery. The house was not
sufficient to hold half the people; an arbour had been prepared, with a stand for the preachers, and the intention was
to have the sacrament as well as the sermon out of doors.
Dr. Smith preached the Action Sermon, as it was called in
Scottish phrase. The text was Psalm li. 17,'The sacrifices
of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O
God, thou wilt not despise.' It was especially intended to
comfort diffident and discouraged believers. The evidences of
piety which he laid down were such as I could for the most
part find in myself; so that I felt much regret that I had
not taken measures to partake of the ordinance. Though the
morning was clear, the appearances of rain were threatening;
after consultation it was therefore determined to administer
the sacrament within the house. Notice was given that while
arrangements were making, MIr. LeGrand would preach in
the grove behind the church. I resorted to the place, where
I first had a sight of this successful young minister.  At this
time there was much that was stliking in his aspect. He
was tall, but rather bending in his attitude, and his countenance was solemn and benignant, with a shade of melancholy.
He stood upon a horse-block, and preached a discourse which,
though inaccurate and incoherent, was delivered with peculiarities of voice that made their way to the feelings. After
the communicants had retired, the Rev. Samuel Houston
preached to the non-communicants under the arbour. After
hearing lMr. Houston, whose sermon was interrupted by the
rain, I pressed with much difficulty into the house, where
Mr. Graham was preaching. Little did I think, that I should




58                 HAMPDEN SIDNEY.
ever preach in that pulpit, and become the pastor of that
people! There was on the face of the assembly an appear.
ance of tender and earnest solemnity. Never had I heard
my pastor speak with such warmth and pathos as on this
occasion. His text was Isaiah xl. 1,'Comfort ye, comfort
ye my people,' etc. The part which I heard was the address
to the impenitent, in which under a series of particulars
he showed them their comfortless state. The good people
of Briery were entranced. They had expected a very cold
and dry discourse. Dr. Smith afterwards said to me of this
sermon, that it was the best he had ever heard, except one;
and the one excepted was preached during the revival by the
Rev. James Mitchell, who was never reckoned a great
preacher. Every mouth was filled with expressions of admiration, and from this time, Mr. Graham was considered one
of the ablest preachers in the land."
" On Monday after the Communion, we went to Hampden
Sidney, in the county of Prince Edward, where Mr. Lyle,
already named, showed us much attention and introduced
us to the Rev. Drury Lacy, who then as Vice-President had
charge of the institution, in consequence of Dr. Smith's
having resigned the presidentship. I was much pleased with
the free and candid manners and conversation of Mr. Lacy.
By the early loss of his left hand, from the bursting of a gun
when a boy, Mr. Lacy had been led to fit himself for teaching
an English school. In this calling he early acquired a high
reputation, especially as he wrote an incomparably beautiful
hland. As he taught for some time in Cumberland, where
Dr. Smith preached on the alternate Sabbaths, he received




MR. LL:CY.                   59
an invitation to come and learn at the College. Having
about that time experienced a change of heart, he joyfully
accepted the offer, immediately began the study of Latin,
rapidly passed through the curriculum and was licensed
to preach as a probationer. Having a voice which was loud
and clear, and a very distinct articulation, with a warm
heart, he was from the first very popular and effective as a
preacher.  And as the great revival in the vicinity soon
commenced, Mr. Lacy was much employed in various places,
but being fond of teaching continued his residence at the
College. By many, his preaching during the revival was
preferred even to that of Dr. Smith; it was plain and experimental, and there were manifest seals to his ministry.
Though deficient in accuracy he was unusually acceptable
abroad, and at presbyteries and synods, when the assemblies
were large and the services in the open air, he was commonly
chosen for the work, as his penetrating tones could reach the
outskirts of any congregation. He was a man of great humility, remarkably exempt from envy, of a sociable and
friendly temper, and greatly esteemed and beloved by his
brethren.  Having suffered long with a calculous affection,
he resorted to the surgical aid of the celebrated Dr. Physick
of Philadelphia; but a fever ensued, and in a few days he
expired. I had at his request taken my passage in the stagecoach for Philadelphia to see him; but before the hour of
departure I received a note from his kind host Mr. Robert
Ralston, advising me not to come, lest it should agitate him
too much, especially as I had received from  Dr. Hoge the
sad intelligence that Mrs. Lacy, whom he left in health,




60                DOUBTS AND FEARS.
had died of the putrid fever. He left the world in ignorance of this bereavement, to enjoy the surprise of meeting
his beloved wife in the invisible state.  His remains lie ir
the cemetery of the Arch Street Church, Two of his sons,
and three of his grandsons are in the ministry."
During this excursion, Mr. Alexander was taken by Mr.
Graham to visit the celebrated orator, Patrick Henry; to
whose eloquence he had several opportunities of listening, at
a later period. Mr. Graham remained more than ia week in
Prince Edward, and preached several times at private houses.
His sermons were intended to discriminate between what was
essential and what was incidental in religious experience.
He was careful to show that true religion consisted more in
the strength of the habitual purpose of soul, than in high
affections. " I understood his discourses," it is here added,
"and thought I could find the evidences of vital piety, as
proposed by him, in myself. But hearing much of sudden
conversions, and of persons being convulsed with severe conviction, I concluded that the hopes which I entertained must
be fallacious, and that they prevented my being truly convinced of sin. This occasioned great perplexity, and I felt a
strong desire to make my case known to Dr. Smith. As we
were to journey together to Bedford, I hoped for an opportunity to have his judgment.  Mr. Graham had hitherto said
nothing to me about my personal feelings; but when we
returned to Charlotte, at our lodging at old Mrs. M.orton's at
Little Roanoke Bridge, he took me out and conversed with
me. I freely related my difficulties, but he made little oi
no reply.  Dr. Smith was to preach the funeral sermon of




INCREASING CONFLICT.              61
an unfortunate young woman, who had been killed by falling
from a horse as she was returning from an entertainment.
To this solemnity I looked forward, as one well suited te
produce conviction. On the way I fell into company with
Susan Watkins," afterwards by a second marriage the wife of
the Rev. Dr. HIoge, " and found her remarkably communicative, so that I could open my mind to her with less restraint
than to any one I had met. She told me her own experience
and encouraged and exhorted me to go forward in seeking
religion. My expectations of being deeply affected by Dr.
Smith's sermon on this sorrowful occasion were utterly disappointed. I was not only conscious of no suitable emotion,
but my thoughts were to an uncommon degree wandering.
I however had the opportunity of conversing with Dr. Smith.
I related to him my various exercises, but added that I had
still fallen into sin after these exercises; upon which he said,
in his decided, peremptory way, that then they were certainly not of the nature of true religion, which always destroys
the power and dominion of sin; and he proceeded to account
for the joy I had experienced, on other principles. From
this time I abandoned all persuasion that I had experienced
regenerating grace. My desire now was to be brought under
such alarming convictions of sin, as I had heard of in the
case of others. But that evening, which I spent in the forest,
I was greatly distressed on account of my exceeding hardness
of heart. I rolled on the ground in anguish of spirit, bewailing my insensibility. We lodged at the house of a pious
man, a nephew of Samuel MIorris, and the next day went on
to Bedford,




62            SOLITUDE AND CONTRITION.
"When we arrived at Liberty, we met nearly thirty of
our friends from Rockbridge who had come over to the
sacrament, among whom was my eldest sister. They seemed
already under a solemn impression, even before attending
any services. The preaching was continued several days at
the Peaks Meeting-House, and the communion was on the
Sabbath. It was a time of great emotion, and none seemed
more affected than the Rockbridge company.
" While I was at Liberty I experienced exercises of mind
which were remarkable. The place was a little out of the
town in a thicket, at the edge of a wood. I had in the
morning walked out into this grove, and while thus engaged
in meditation and prayer, I was suddenly visited with such
a melting of heart as I never had before or since. Under a
lively sense of Divine goodness my eyes became a fountain.of
tears. The most prominent feelings were a sense of ingratitude for the innumerable mercies which had been richly and
constantly showered upon me. When I now reflect upon
it, it seems like a sudden change in the animal system, and
a relief arising from a vent found for tears. The immediate
result was a sweet composure of spirit. I cannot remember
that I had any thought of Christ, or much contrition for my
sins; and this melting frame, the counterpart of which I
never experienced, led to no permanent change in my condition; in a few hours I felt much as before it-occurred."
The progress of this mental conflict may be noted in the
following record, concerning a later day, in the same journey.
" The former part of the day I spent in the woods, ruminating on my sad condition and future prospects. The train




DEPARTURE OF HOPE.               63
of my thought was, that I had enjoyed the very best means
and opportunities of salvation, but these had produced no good
effect; that I w s now going where all were careless of these
things, and where the means would be far less favourable.
The conclusion forced itself upon me that I should certainly
be lost for ever. My mind was calm and my thoughts deliberate, and when I came to this result I was nowise agitated, but began to contemplate the justice of God in my
condemnation. It was evident to me that as a righteous
Governor he could not do otherwise than condemn me to
hell; and I could not but approve the sentence of my own
condemnation. Yet I felt that I could never entertain any
hard thoughts of God, even when suffering under his heavy
displeasure. These views were so far from increasing my
distress, that I experienced a degree of composure which I
nad not had for a long time. The awful question in regard
to my destiny appeared now to be settled, and I felt no need
of prayer or further waiting on God. I returned to the
house, and there found the Rev. James Mitchell, pastor of
the Presbyterian church in that county. He had never been
introduced to me, but invited me into an adjoining room.
He then began to enumerate the high privileges which I had
enjoyed in my visit to Prince Edward, and said he hoped I
had received abiding impressions from the many powerful
sermons which I had heard, and from seeing so many young
people engaged in religion and forsaking all for Christ. I
answered deliberately, that what he had remarked about my
privileges was very true; but that however great the means,
they had proved of no avail to me; I had not yet in any




64                RENEWED PEACE.
degree experienced those convictions without which I could
not expect to be saved, and that being now about to leave
all these means, I had that day come to the conclusion that
I should certainly be lost; that I knew it would be just, and
that I had no one to blame but myself. To which he answered, that no certain degree of conviction was prescribed;
that the only purpose which conviction could answer was to
show us our need of Christ,' and this,' added he,'you have.'
He then represented Christ as an Advocate before the throne
of God, ready to undertake my cause, and able to save to
the uttermost all that come unto God by him. A new view
opened before me at this moment. I did feel that I needed
a Saviour, and I knew that Christ as an Advocate was able
to save me. This mere probability of salvation, after having
given up all hope, was like the dawn of morning upon a dark
night; it was like life from the dead. From that instant I
entertained a joyful hope that I should yet be saved. These
new views affected me exceedingly. I was like a man condemned to die, who is unexpectedly informed that there is
a friend who can obtain a reprieve. I was unable to say
any thing. My tears prevented utterance."
In continuing the journey, " I rode along alone," says he,
" and my mind was in a state of delightful repose; cheering
promises came into my mind, as though they dropped from
heaven. When Mr. Mitchell commenced the prayer-meeting, at a town on the way, he called upon my companion,
Samuel Wilson, to pray. After a word or two of exhortation,
and a hymn, I was in like manner called upon, and did not
hesitate to make the attemp)t, although in any other state




HOME.                     65
of mind in which I had ever been, I should as soon have
agreed to rise and preach extempore. I was astonished at
myself, and though altogether unaccustomed to pray, I was
delivered from the fear of man, and was enabled to get
through without serious obstruction. This manner of treating young persons under religious impressions, I hlave always
disapproved. It was intended to bring us to take a decided
part, before we returned home; and it no doubt had the
effect of causing us to feel that we were now committed.
The next morning we set out for Lexington, about thirty in
number, and sang revival hymns as we rode along. On the
top of the Blue Ridge we halted at a spring to partake of a
viaticum, which some of the company had been provident
enough to bring along. Mr. LeGrand appeared to be very
happy, and talked freely with us all, exhorting us to persevere boldly in the cause of Christ when we reached home."
5




CHAPTER FOURTH.
1789-1790
REVIVAL IN ROCKlBRIDGE-EXTRAORDINARY EXPERIENCE IN THE FORES61CHARACTER OF THE WORK OF GRACE-PRINCETON COLLEGE-ILLNES —
JOURNEYING-RECOVERY-PROGRESS.
T!HERE is something of amiable youthful simplicity in
the confidence with which the returning company expected an immediate manifestation of awakening grace on
their arrival at Lexington.  Notice was duly given of a
meeting for prayer, to be held on the evening after their
return. The service was under the direction of Mr. LeGrand. We resume the narrative: "I had the trial of
being called upon to pray, in the presence of all my young
acquaintances. My timidity, however, was in a manner
gone. I now calculated fully on a revival in Lexington.
Before the meeting I conversed privately with some of my
associates, and found them favourably disposed. The news
of our arrival, and of the spirit in which we had returned,
spread rapidly through the country around. The next day
the public service was at New Monmouth church. lMSr. LeGrand preached in the morning on Isaiah xlv. 22,'Look




AWAKENING IN LEXINGTON.              67
unto me and be ye saved, all ye ends of the earth.' After
which Mr. Graham gave a narrative of all that he had seen
and heard in Prince Edward and Bedford, and then addressed
the great congregation in the most penetrating and pathetic
manner, the tears meanwhile streaming from his eyes. The
assembly was deeply and solemnly moved. Multitudes went
weeping from the house. Another meeting was appointed
for the evening, in the town, in a large room which had
been used for dancing. Here the solemnity was greater, if
possible, than at the church. Many remained to converse
with the ministers, and a person of the most sedate habits
arid moral life cried out in an agony,'What must I do to
be saved!' Every thing went on prosperously, and I was in
expectation that all, or nearly all, the people would be
awakened. Several of my companions, educated young men,
came forward and professed their determination to be on the
Lord's side. I had not heard a whisper of opposition, but
next morning my uncle, Andrew Reid, who had not been at
any of the meetings, brought to our house a volume of
Locke's Essay, with the page turned down at the chapter on
Enthusiasm.  My sister, to whom  he spoke with some
severity, was surprised and confounded, and grew faint with
agitation, so that she was constrained to go to her couch.
It struck me as amazing that any man of sense could think
us in danger of enthusiasm. We soon found that there
were many enemies of our proceedings, and that some of the
young men ridiculed the whole affair. But the work went
on, and we were gratified to find that cases of awakening
occurred at almost every meeting, and the religious concern




68                SELF EXAMINATION.
continued to diffuse itself through the country. These were
halcyon days for the church; and as for myself, though I
did not regard myself as converted, I was so occupied with
the cases of others, and with the opposition, that for a while
I almost for got my own case.
" Mr. LeGrand remained with us a week or two. His
natural disposition was very uneven. He was either exceedingly lively, or in an awful gloom, in which he continually
expressed a desire to die. At the time of his awakening,
in Cumberland, he lay, I have been told, for hours in convulsions, produced by convictions, which were followed, it is
thought, by believing views of the Saviour. Great success
attended his earliest labours.  His countenance, though
youthful, was marked with sadness, and his voice had a
mellowness and tenderness which I have never heard surpassed.
" Being much dissatisfied with my state of mind, and
now sensible of the corruption of my heart, I resolved to
enter on a new course, and determined to give up all reading except the Bible, and to devote myself entirely to prayer,
fasting, and the Scriptures, until I should arrive at greater
hope. My life was spent almost entirely in religious company, but our conversation often degenerated into levity,
which was succeeded by compunction. Telling over our
private exercises was carried to an undue length, and instead of tending to edification, was often injurious. But
reserve on this subject was considered a bad sign; and on
meeting, the first inquiry after salutation was concerning the
state of each other's souls.




RELAPSE INTO DOUBT.              69
" A young woman of my acquaintance, who, with others,
had gone over to Bedford, appeared more solemnly impressed
than most of the company. All believed that if any one
had experienced divine renewal, it was Mary Hanna. One
afternoon, while reading a sermon of Tennent's, on the need
of a legal work preparatory to conversion, she was seized
with such apprehensions of her danger, that she began to
tremble, and in attempting to reach the house, which was
distant only a few steps, fell prostrate, and was taken up
in a state of terrible convulsion.  The news quickly spread,
and in a short time most of the serious young people
in the town were present. I mention this for the purpose
of adding that I was at once struck with the conviction that
I had received an irreparable injury from the clergyman
who had persuaded me that no such conviction as this was
necessary. I determined, therefore, to admit no hope until
I should have the like experience. I read all the religious
narratives I could procure, and laboured much to put myself
into the state in which they described themselves to have
been, before enjoying hope. But all these efforts and desires
proved abortive, and I began to see much more of the wickedness of my own heart than ever before. I was distressed
and discouraged, and convinced that I had placed too much
dependence on mere means, and on my own efforts.  I
therefore determined to give myself incessantly to prayer
until I found mercy, or perished in the pursuit.
" This resolution was formed on a Sunday evening. The
next morning I took my Bible and walked several miles into
the dense wood of the Bushy Hills, which were then wholly




70               EXTRAORDINARY JOYS.
uncultivated. Finding a place that pleased me, at the foot
of a projecting rock, in a dark valley, I began with great
earnestness the course which I had prescribed to myself.
I prayed, and then read in the Bible, prayed and read,
prayed and read, until my strength was exhausted; for I
had taken no nourishment that day. But the more I strove
the harder my heart became, and the more barren was my
mind of every serious or tender feeling. I tasted then some
of the bitterness of despair. It seemed to be my last resource, and now this had utterly failed. I was about to desist
from the endeavour, when the thought occurred to me, that
though I was helpless, and my case was nearly desperate,
yet it would be well to cry to God to help me in this
extremity. I knelt upon the ground, and had poured out
perhaps a single petition, or rather broken cry for help, when,
in a moment, I had such a view of a crucified Saviour, as is
without a parallel in my experience. The whole plan of
grace appeared as clear as day. I was persuaded that God
was willing to accept me, just as I was, and convinced that
I had never before understood the freeness of salvation, but
had always been striving to bring some price in my hand, or
to prepare myself for receiving Christ. Now I discovered
that I could receive him in all his offices at that very moment, which I was sure at the time I did. I felt truly a
joy which was unspeakable and full of glory. How long
this delightful frame continued I cannot tell. But when my
affections had a little subsided I opened my Bible, and
alighted on the eighteenth and nineteenth chapters of John.
The sacred page appeared to be illuminated; the truths




FIRST COMMUNION.                 71
were new, as if I had never read them before; and I thought
it would be always thus. Having often thought of engaging
in a written covenant with God, but having never before
found a freedom to do so, I now felt no hesitation, and
having writing materials in my pocket, I sat down and
penned it exactly from my feelings, and solemnly signed it
as in the presence of God.*'
"I expected now to feel uniformly different from what
had preceded, and to be always in lively emotion, thinking
my troubles all at an end. As I had been much distressed
by discovering the sins of my heart, and as I read in Scripture that faith works purification, I resolved to make this
the test. At the time, indeed, I had no doubt as to the sincerity of my faith; and in the paper of self-dedication
above-mentioned I expressed the assurance that if I had
never before received Christ I did then and there receive
him. For several days my mind was serene. But before a
week had elapsed, darkness began to gather over me again.
Inbred corruption began to stir. In a word, I fell back into
the same state of darkness and conflict as before."
Shortly after this, in the autumn of 1789, he made a
profession of his faith. But he describes his first approach
to the Lord's Table as destitute of high comforts. His
thoughts were much distracted, and his soul was harassed
with awful fear lest he should eat and drink damnation to
himself. And after receiving, this dreadful suspicion haunted
him, until he felt convinced that this enormous sin had been
* This document is in our possession.




72            ESTIMATE OF EXPERIENCE.
committed. But at his second communion, which was at
Now  Monmouth, he enjoyed a delightful day of clear
assurance.  "The sermon by MIr. Graham," says he in a
very late record, "was on the text,'The Sun of Righteousness shall arise,' etc. The preacher compared the beginnings
of true religion in the soul to the rising of the sun; sometimes with a sudden and immediate clearness, sometimes
under clouds, which are afterwards dispersed. As he went
on, it occurred to me with great distinctness, that the Sun of
Righteousness began to rise on me, though under a cloud.
When conversing with M3r. Mitchell in Bedford, I was
relieved from despair by the persuasion that Christ was able
to save even me. This shows how seldom believers can designate with exactness the time of their renewal. Now, at
the age of seventy-seven, I am of opinion, that my regeneration took place while I resided at General Posey's, in the
year 1788."
It seemed proper to dwell at some length on the traits
of this remarkable and extensive religious awakening, because
it shows how familiar the subject of this memoir was with
the good and the evil of such excitements; especially as in a
later period of his life, when he felt constrained to unite
with other wise men in protesting against enthusiastic excesses and false doctrine, he was frequently treated by
opponents as a rigid book-divine, who had grown up in cold
forms, without acquaintance with great outpourings of the
Holy Spirit. How far this was from the true state of the
facts, will have been sufficiently apparent in the preceding
extracts.




DOCTRINES OF THE REVIVAL.             73
It was a remarkable peculiarity of this great popular
reformation, that amidst all its outbreaking enthusiasm and
strange animal agitation, it was not carried forward by
means of corrupt doctrine.  Aberrations from the truth there
Doubtless were in the case of individuals, and even bodies of
errorists broke away on one side and the other, especially in
the West; but all the preachers whom we have had occasion
to name, were zealously attached to the sound Nonconformist theology of the seventeenth century. Minor points
were indeed brought into question among the active minds
of inquirers, stimulated by greatly exalted feeling; but the
fundamentals of reformation truth were left undisturbed.
MIost of those in the Valley who professed their faith maintained their constancy, but some who persevered most faithfully were not the most prominent at the beginning.
"Much conversation took place concerning the nature of
faith, the necessity of legal conviction, and the question
whether there was an operation on the soul itself prior to
all spiritual views, or whether regeneration was effected by
the introduction of truth to the mind. When we brought
our various opinions to Mr. Graham for his decision, we
found that his judgment was peculiar.  He maintained that
as conversion is the change of a rational agent, it must be a
matter of conviction and choice; and that it was absurd to
suppose any physical operation on the soul itself to be necessary or even conceivable. This opinion therefore became
prevalent. The opposite, supposed to be that of many called
Hopkinsians, was that no change takes place in the views of
the understanding, but such as arises from a change in the




74               DOCTRINAL QUESTIONS.
feelings of the heart.  But some of us were not satisfied
with either of these explanations.  We supposed that a soul
dead in sin was incapable of spiritual views and feelings,
until made partaker of spiritual life; that this principle of
life was imparted in regeneration; so that the natural order
of exercises was, that the quickened soul entertained new
views, which were accompanied by new feelings in accordance
with the truths presented to the mind. This opinion I then
adopted and have always held.  The Spirit operates on the
dead soul, communicating the principle of life. The Word
holds up to the view of the regenerated soul the evil of sin
which leads to repentance, and shows the excellency and
suitableness of Christ as a Saviour in all his offices, and
reveals the beauty of holiness.
"Among other practical bools, Marshall on Sanctification
came into use, strongly recommended by some; as exhibiting the only true view of saving faith, and as fitted at once
to give peace to the troubled conscience. Some who had
received little comfort in religion, seized on this notion of
faith, persuaded themselves that their sins were pardoned
and that Christ and all his benefits were theirs, and exulted
for a time in the pleasing delusion. But they generally fell
back into doubt and distress. The instances of persons professing a full assurance were few. Great caution was exercised, to guard against deception; which perhaps led to
undue nicety in the attempt to discriminate between the
exercises of the believer and the hypocrite, and to a multiplication of marks and evidences, some of which were not
deduced from the IHoly Scriptures.  This caused perp:lexity




RESULTS.                     75
in the minds of many sincere persons, and detracted from the
peace which they might have enjoyed. Nevertheless just
views were generally entertained on this subject, and our
pastor was lucid and discriminating as to the nature of true
religion."
"With many the impressions suddenly made vanished
away by degrees, so that they became as careless as ever;
and some no doubt entered the communion of the Church
who had not the root of the matter in them. But a large
number continued to give evidence of the depth and reality
of the work of grace in their hearts.  Some of the most
lively Christians were of the female sex."
Of the period concerning which we have been writing
there remain several little books, chiefly in cipher, containing
a brief journal of the writer's private exercises. They begin
when he was eighteen years of age, and extend with interruptions for about six years. For several reasons we make
no use of them; partly because of their scantiness, partly
because his mature judgment seems to have been adverse to
such diaries, but chiefly because he has given elsewhere as
much of these transactions between God and his soul, as he
desired to be remembered.
The records from which we make these extracts contain
narratives of fearful apostasy, in a few remarkable instances;
full of interest and warning, but too extensive in their details
to find a place in our pages.  Some of these fatal results
are attributed by the writer himself to the practice common
in most revivals of dragging young and obscure persons into
public view, and to the ill-judged stress laid on apparent




76                PRINCETON COLLEGE.
gifts of fluent and acceptable prayer in seeming converts
On this subject his views corresponded with those of Robert
Hall, who in reviewing his own juvenile experience in respect
to this matter, writes as follows: "I never call the circumstance to mind but with grief at the vanity it inspired;
nor, when I' think of such mistakes of good men, am I inclined to question the correctness of Baxter's language,
strong as it is, where he says,'Nor should men turn preachers as the river Nilus breeds frogs (saith Herodotus), where
one half moveth before the other is made, and while it is yet
but plain mud!' ":
Sixty years ago, when Archibald Alexander was struggling to acquire an education, there was no such provision of
literary apparatus as in our day. Single volumes passed
from house to house, as great treasures, and the youth was
happy who could own any one of those works which now
greet us with profusion. Our young student speaks of
several authors who influenced his mind in this its forming
state. First among these were such as met the demands of
his troubled mind during early awakenings; Owen, Baxter,
Alleine, the Erskines, Willison, Doddridge, Whitefield, Jenyns and Dickinson's Letters.
At the instance of General Andrew Moore, young Alexander was induced to think of going to Princeton College,
then under the presidentship of Dr. Witherspoon. To this
plan his father was very favourable; his clothes were packed
ip and actually forwarded a certain part of the way. A
* Memoir of' Robert Hall, Vol. ilL, p. 5.




ILLNESS.                    77
day or two before setting out, however, he waited on Mr.
Graham, from whom he desired to take letters. To his surprise Mr. Graham disapproved the whole scheme, and gave
such a description of the inconveniences to which he would
be subjected as an undergraduate, and the advantages of deferring this step until he should take degrees at Lexington,
that he was persuaded to remain at home. Gen. Moore
was chagrined, and the family of Mr. Reid were much displeased. It must be admitted that the difficulties suggested
by Mr. Graham were imaginary. But Providence directs in
all such conjunctures, and the very next day Mr. Alexander
was seized with a fever, which held him many weeks in great
suffering and danger. The physician who was called in,
came to the bedside drunk. For a large part of the time
the patient was in a raging delirium. At one stage of the
disease he lay speechless, and the family was called to see
him die. One morning, about daybreak, he heard the voice
of a neighbour at the door, inquiring, " Is he still alive? "
It was the preposterous custom of the country for every one
to have access to the sick room, and one day when a sermon
was preached in the house, half' the congregation came in to
see him, and some good but unwise men undertook to talk
with him on religious subjects, while his mind was alienated
But it was God's purpose to spare him for usefulness. For
several weeks he was lifted out of bed, as an infant. His
constitution, which was vigorous before, received a shock,
from which, as he supposed, it never fully recovered. He
was seized with an excruciating sciatica, and suffered fo
months with a distressing cough; so that during the whole




78               THE SWEET SPRINGS.
winter and spring of 1790, he was in feeble and as it seemed
declining health.
The Sweet Springs had already become a place of frequent resort, and thither he was accompanied by his father in
the ensuing summer. The scenes were new to him, and we
would fain believe are such as no longer present themselves in
that beautiful locality. " A company of gamblers never intermitted their games day or night, Sunday or workingday, during the whole time I was there. They relieved one another,
and would sometimes come out to the fountain, adding not a
little to the horrid symphony of oaths and imprecations which
filled the air at these gatherings. They strove to outdo one
another in the rapidity and novelty of their profane expressions. Some of these persons came every year, and had
their log cabins to dwell in. Besides other invalids there
were old broken-down debauchees, who were endeavouring to
prop up a shattered and polluted constitution.  There was
an old Baptist by the name of Cox, from North Carolina,
who had been here every season for a number of years. He
was treated with a sort of respect by the profane, although
they would throw out a jest at his sobriety; to which he
would reply,'Gentlemen, if there is no future state, your
course may do, but if it should turn out that there is, I should
fear to be in your place.'"  He adds a painful account of
a dying man, who though belonging to the convivial circle
was abandoned by his comrades. "They would only come
within twenty or thirty yards of the cabin, and ask how he
did; but I could hear their oaths as I sat beside him. I
found on his table, Law's Serious Call, which I had never




MOUNTAIN JOURNEY.                79
been, and which I read through that night. Nothing ever
more goaded my conscience; yet I believe it did me little
good, for I was in a despondent state."
During most of his sojourn he was in the family of MIr.
Lewis, the proprietor of the Sweet Springs. Hiere he met
with the Rev. Mr. McRoberts, of Prince Edward, whose name
will appear again in our narrative. Mr. LeGrand also came
to the Springs, and preached to the visitors. The sketches
which follow are too characteristic to be omitted, especially
as the memorials of this period are scanty.
" -My health was improving, and several weeks remained
of the time allotted to my stay, but finding a man from
Augusta returning with a led horse, I prevailed on him to
convey me to Rockbridge, which would be only a few miles
out of his way. We set out rather late and were unable to
reach our lodging place before night; and being near the
banks of Jackson's River we lost our way, and took a path
which led us off from the main road directly across the hills
towards the river. For a time our situation was not only
painful but perilous, as the ravines which we descended
were very deep. After wandering some time we saw a distant light, and with some difficulty reached a cabin in the
low grounds. We found two women in the house, one aged,
and the other young, but the mother of several children,
who were sleeping in the room which we entered, of course
the only one in the house. There was an evident reluctance
in these persons to comply with our request for lodging, the
reason of which transpired in due time. The matron set to
work, however and provided a supper, which to our appetites




80                 THE MOUNTAINS.
appeared very good.  Scarcely had we ended our repast
when the man of the house came home in a state of intoxication. He was very noisy before he came in, but when he
found two strangers, he became. outrageous and ordered us
to depart. We expostulated, reminding him that the night
was dark and that we could not possibly regain the highroad. The wife and mother joined their entreaties to ours,
and he at length consented to furnish provender for our
horses, and soon fell into a sound sleep. His wife spread a
bed on the floor.
" We rose early, on a lovely Sabbath morning; my plan
in setting out having been to reach the forks of Jackson's
River and the Cow Pasture, where I knew Mr. LeGrand
was to be. The man of the house arose early also, and with
a marked change in his demeanour. He was deeply mortified
at the inhospitality of the previous night, and sought in
every way to make amends for it. Our way lay all the
morning along the bank of the river, and in some places
there was scarcely room for a bridle-path between the mountain and the channel. The ride was delightful and refreshing, and before reaching the junction of the Cow Pasture,
we passed what I have always admired as a most picturesque
spot; I mean that where Jackson's River makes its way
through the high and steep mountain. The fissure is very
narrow, and the sides abrupt, with piles of rock at the bottom.
The two sides of the breach seem to correspond with each
other, showing that there had once been a continuous ridge.' We arrived at Mr. Davidson's long before the hour of
public worship. The people seldom heard a sermon; being




MEr. LEGRAND.                  81
s) strung along the narrow valleys, that they can never form
self-supporting congregations, but must always depend on
itinerants, or the transient visits of ministers from a distance.
In such regions it is pleasing to see the ardour with which
the mountain people flock to the place of meeting; issuing
from every hollow of the neighbouring hills, on horseback
and on fiot. When the young preacher arose, with his
singular advantages of mien and voice, an unwonted air of
solemnity and interest pervaded the assembly.  Mr. LeGrand again preached much to my heart; seldom have I
spent a happier day. We had two sermons, with a short
interval. When he met me at the edge of the dense forest
whither he had retired for devotion, his face seemed like that
of Moses to shine, and as we were on terms of great intimacy
he said to me,' If I ever enjoyed sensible communion with
God, it was within the last half hour.' And his sermon bore
witness that he had been with Jesus.  These discourses
were not in vain. The seeds of piety were sown in many
young hearts that day. Several members of Mr. Davidson's
family dated their serious impressions from that day. I reluctaritly parted with Mir. LeGrand in the morning, as my
travelling companion was becoming impatient to be on his
way. lIy leaving the Springs at this time was imprudent;
as I now believe that if I had remained, my health would
have been entirely restored. As it was, though much recruited by the use of the waters, I soon fell back into a state
of debility."
6




CHAPTER FIFTH.
1790-1791.
PREPARATIONS FOR THE MINISTRY —TIIEOLOG1CAL CLASS-FIRST ATTEMPT Al
EXHORTATION —VISIT TO PIIILADELPHIA-GENERAL ASSEMBLY-GREAI
MEN OF THE DAY-RETURN.
THE time had arrived when it was natural and almost
necessary for Mr. Alexander to choose a profession for
life.  The subject had been forced upon his mind during all
the months of his religious inquiry. At the Sweet Springs
he conversed freely on this point with Mr. LeGrand.  The
ministry of the gospel was clearly his choice, but he conceived himself altogether unfit for a work of such importance.  Mr. Legrand however urged him to engage at once
ia the study of divinity. After the disappointment experi
enced in regard to Princeton, he privately read from time to
time such books as he could procure, and so far as his health
permitted.  "I doubted my call," says he, "to this high
and holy office.  The only other pursuit which entered my
thoughts was that of agriculture; and I pleased myself with
the thought of retirement and escape from  the awful responsibilities of the ministry.  I still however went on with




THEOLOGICAL STUDIES.              83
my studies. While before I had been reading at random
every good book I could lay hold of, I now thought it necessary to commence the study of theology with more method.
I expected to be put to reading many ponderous volumes in
Latin', and endeavoured to brace my nerves for the effort.
Accordingly I went to Mr. Graham with a request that he
would direct my studies. He smiled, and said,'If you mean
ever to be a theologian, you must co le at it not by reading
but by thinking.' He then ridiculed the way of taking our
opinions upon the authority of men, and of deciding questions by merely citing the judgments of this or that great
theologian; repeating what he had just said, that I must
learn to think for myself, and form my own opinions from
the Bible. This conversation discouraged me more than if
he had told me to read half a dozen folios. For as to learning
any thing by my own thoughts, I had no idea of its practicability. But it did me more good than any directions or
counsels I ever received. It threw me on my own resources,
and led me to feel the necessity of disciplining my own
thoughts and searching into the principles of things.
"My thoughts were entirely absorbed in theological questions, and as there were several young men of education in
Lexington, we carried on daily discussions. Taking nothing
for granted without proof, we debated especially all the
points in controversy between Calvinists and Arminians.
The Methodists who professed Arminian doctrine were
spreading their opinions on all sides. When I first began the
study of theology I had no companion but John Lyle, who
had been for some time a pupil of Mr. Graham; but after a




84                   PRESBYTERY.
while we had half a dozen. Every Satuiday we met at out
preceptor's study, for recitation and debate. Even at this
time Mr. Graham was much engaged in the study of Mental
Philosophy. He had a natural turn for such investigations,
and had observed for himself with great acuteness. Ife had
recently obtained the works of Reid and Beattie, with others
of the Scottish school; but he thought he could construct a
better system than any proposed by these writers. Accordingly he digested a series of lectures, which he friquently
delivered to his students and to a class of young ladies.
They were perspicuous and methodical and rested on observations made by himself. I believe they were never written
out, for he had a strong aversion to the pen, and in speaking
he had such a command of his knowledge as to require no
assistance from notes. During the time of my theological
studies I perused no great number of volumes, but some I
read with much care. Among these were Edwards on the
Will, on Original Sin, and on the Affections; Bates's Harmony of the Divine Attributes, and some treatises of Owen
and Boston."
In the autumn of the same year, 1790, the Presbytery
of Lexington was to meet at the North Mountain MeetingHouse, in the county of Augusta.  This church is now
called Hebron. Mr. Alexander was prevailed upon by his
friends and teachers to present himself to that body in order
to trials for the ministry.  He describes his feelings on this
occasion as very uncomfortable, from remaining doubts as to
his being called to the work; but he was averse to disregard
the advice of his honoured preceptor, who had acquired tn




FIRST EXHORTArION.               85
influence over him  which he could hardly resist.  The
Presbytery perceived his gifts, and encouraged him to proceed. It appears from their records that this event took
place on the 20th day of October, 1790. Mr. Graham had
resolved to get the permission of the Presbytery that the candidates under their care should have the privilege of exhorting in social meetings for religious worship; for in that day
the function of public teaching had not been distributed so
lavishly among the lay brethren, as in oui own time. And
to quiet the scruples of Mr. Alexander, he was informed that
his actual entrance on the ministry might be postponed as
long as he chose. On returning home from the Presbytery,
he soon received notice that authority had been given to
him and his fellow-student, Mr. John Lyle, to exercise their
gifts in exhortation.  Mr. Graham was accustomed to hold
a meeting at Kerr's Creek, at the house of old John McKee.
This place was therefore selected for the debut of the young
candidates. But the event is too interesting not to be
related in his own words. It is seldom that we have such
descriptions of a first effort from one who was destined to
become eminent in this very field of labour.
" The thing was new in that part of the country, and
many came together. I was exceedingly apprehensive that I
should utterly fail, and not be able to say any thing, for I
had never spoken in public except what I had committed to
memory. I had once attempted to speak in a juvenile debate, without the least success. We arrived at the place
early in the evening, and retired to the grove. When we
returned to the house Mr. Lyle appeared to be much ani



86            EXTEMPORANEOUS SPEAKING.
mated and eleval ed. He told me that he had a remarkable
flow of thought, and seemed confident of a prosperous issue;
which only discouraged me the more, as I was weighed down
with a heavy burden. After singing and prayer, Mr. Graham
called first upon Lyle, who arose with an awful cloud upon
his brow, seized fast hold of the chair upon which he had
been sitting, and with many contortions of countenance
forced out a few words; but his flow of thought had deserted
him. He hemmed and groaned., rolled up his pocket-handkerchief into a ball, made a few convulsive gestures, and sat
down. After another prayer and hymn, I was called upon.
Although I did not know a single word which I was to utter,
I began with a rapidity and fluency equal to any I have enjoyed to this day. I was astonished at myself, and as I was
young and small, the old people were not less astonished.
From this time I exhorted at one place and another, several
times every week. It was still a cross for me to hold forth
at Lexington; and after efforts unsatisfactory to myself, I
often suffered keen anguish of spirit, from various causes.
At other times my heart was enlarged, my feelings were
lively, so that I found delight in the utterance of truth.
At that time I seldom followed any premeditated train of
thought; the words which I first spoke generally opened a
track for me, which I pursued."
It is a proper addition to this statement to say that,
throughout his life, the extemporaneous discourses of Dr.
Alexander, which indeed were the highest effusions of his
mind, partook of the character of these early efforts; and he
has been heard to say again and again, that if he were to




MISSION.                   87
stake his life on a single effort, he would, if familiar with
the general subject, abandon himself entirely to the impulse
of the moment.
During the continuance of the revival, Mr. Graham was
much engaged in preaching, not only at home, but in many
other congregations, for there was an awakened attention to
religion almost throughout the Valley; and in the remote
and destitute places there was an uncommon desire to hea7
the Gospel. He therefore made some preaching tours among
the mountains, and along the streams, where the population
is too much extended through narrow vales to admit of compact societies. On one of these excursions he was accompanied by his young pupil. They crossed the North Mountain
at what is called the New Gap, where the ascent is exceedingly steep. After leaving the mountain they fell down
upon the James River near the place where it takes that
name, that is, just below the junction of the Jackson and
Cow pasture Rivers. Mr. Graham preached to these scattered
people with a clearness which made all understand, and with
an earnestness and affection which caused deep feeling. One
of their meetings was at the house of a rich old German.
"In the morning," says a narrative from which we derive
these facts, "  r. John Lyle, my fellow-student and travelling companion, informed me that before sunrise he had seen
a labourer take the German Bible from the house into a
neighbouring thicket, where he kept it about half an hour
and then went to his work. We agreed to have some conversation with the man, and learned from him that he lived
at a distance, but that he was now engaged for a time in




88              THE GERMAN CONVERT.
attending to some hemp, in a piece of land allowed him by the
farmer. We found that he had not been present at the
sermon the day before. He gave us the following narrative.'I have lived, ever since I was married, on the Cow pasture
River, where the Gospel is seldom preached. For a few
months we engaged a man to preach, and poor and careless
as we were, I subscribed a dollar, and then thought I would
go and get the worth of my money. I frequently felt my
conscience moved, but the impression soon went off. Soon
after the preacher left us, I was one day riding by myself,
when all at once I had such a view of my lost condition and
sinfulness, that I felt as if the earth would open and swallow
me up. Though the awful feeling of that moment subsided,
I fell into a state of settled distress. I knew that I was a
sinner, but knew not how my sins could be pardoned. I was
advised to read the Bible, which I did; but the more I read,
the more was I condemned, and my distress was thereby increased, so that for a while I shut up the book and put it
away. Yet I could not find rest, and so returned to reading.
My neighbours were of various opinions respecting my case.
Some were of opinion that my reason was touched, others
said it was low spirits.
"'My distress of mind began to wear me away, until at
last I was unable to work in the field, and my wife and
children were likely to come to want. At length I scarcely
had strength to walk the floor. One Sunday evening a little
before sunset I was sitting on the side of my bed, where I
had been reading my Bible, when all of a sudden my mind
seemed to be full of light and my heart of love and joy. I




THE GERMAN CONVERT.                89
thought that Christ had died for my sins, and that God had
forgiven me for his sake. It was so plain, I wondered that
I had never seen it before. The joy was so great that I sank
down on the bed, and almost swooned. My wife shrieked,
thinking I was about to die. But I was soon able to tell
her that I was happy —as happy as I could be-that I had
seen Christ to have died for me on the cross, and that God
had pardoned all my sins. In this happy state I remained
for some time; but by degrees I began to believe that it was
a delusion. Darkness came over me and my distress returned; but not as at first, for I now knew that whether I
had received it or not there was pardon for miserable sinners.
But for several years I have had no comfort. I read and
pray, and sometimes have a faint hope, but for the most part
am in darkness. It is now nine years since I had this wonderful discovery, and during all that time I have never heard
a sermon, nor ever before met with a single person who understood my case.'
" When the poor German had proceeded thus far, we
had reached the place of meeting, and found the house full.
We were very solicitous that Mr. Graham  might be led
to choose a subject suited to the case of our German brother,
for such we esteemed him. And it was so ordered that the
text led him to open the way of salvation, and to describe
the exercises of a soul when closing with Christ on the
terms of the Gospel. That day we heard more for the afflicted man than for ourselves. He never took his eyes off
the preacher, and during the hour of the sermon they were
full of tears. His emotions were evidently various. We




90            N1R. GRAHAM'S PREACHING.
were incapable of entering into the feelings of a man whbr
had been converted for nine years, and yet had never heard
a sermon, and who for seven years had been walking in darkness and doubt, without once meeting with man or woman
who knew any thing of experimental religion. As he had
to return immediately, we followed him to his horse as he
came weeping from the house. His heart was too full for
utterance. At length he lifted up his hands, and thanked
God for the mercy bestowed on him, in giving him opportunity to hear the precious Gospel that day. He said that his
distress had forsaken him, and something of his first joy
filled his heart, but that he had much sorrow for sin mingled
with his comfort. He took leave of us with tears, tenderly
thanking us for having procured him this inestimable privilege.
" Mr. Graham's preaching for fifteen years had been attended with so little apparent effect, that it is not easy to
conceive of the joy with which he witnessed so great a
change in the religious aspect of the community. For some
time he devoted himself entirely to the work of the ministry.
His preaching at this time was evangelical and powerful.
The writer is now of opinion, that he never heard from any
man a clearer and stronger exhibition of the Gospel than in
the sermons of Mr. Graham during this period."*'
An event of more than ordinary moment in the quiet
career of a student in the mountains, was his making a visit
in the spring of 1791 to Philadelphia. In his mature years
* MS. Life of William Graham.




YOUNG RULING ELDER.               91
he was accustomed to speak with regret and reprehension of
one part of the counsel of his invaluable friend and preceptor.
The General Assembly was about to convene, and Mr. Graham, desiring his young and promising pupil to attend on
that judicatory, conceived the strange design that he should
go in the capacity of a ruling elder. He was little satisfied
with the arrangement, but acquiesced.
These were days of equestrian travel, and they set out
as for a long journey. An agreement had been made to
meet Dr. John B. Smith at Winchester, and to attend the
communion at Shepherdstown, where Mr., afterwards the
Rev. Dr. Mioses Hoge was pastor. Mr. Alexander rode a
young horse, unaccustomed to travelling, which was foundered about the third day. They stopped with Mr. Solomon
Hoge, brother of the clergyman, with whom resided his venerable father. Mr. Graham, after as much delay as he
could afford, resumed his journey.  The horse did not
amend, and this caused a halt of some days.
"Old Mr. Hoge," so he writes, " though eighty-four
years of age, was in the fullest vigour of intellect, and delighted in theological discussion. He gave me a narrative
of the state of the Presbyterian Church in Pennsylvania
during his youth. At the age of one and twenty he care..
fully read over every article of the Westminster Confession
of Faith, to see whether he could adopt the whole; which
he was able freely and deliberately to do. At the time
when I met him he was in connection with the Seceder
Church. He did not inform me how this came about, but
some years afterwards Dr. Hoge told me that his father left




92              JOURNEY NORTHWARD.
our church on account of the'Adopting Act,' which permitted candidates to make some exceptions when they received the Confession. I know not that I ever received so
much instruction in the same time from any one as from
this old gentleman.  Certain difficulties, which I had on
some points, he entirely removed to my satisfaction. What
he told me of the mother Presbytery, of Philadelphia, would
have been of value if I had written it down from his mouth,
but before I recognised its importance, the facts had become
dim in my memory."
Mounting his crippled horse, he attempted to press forward, but before reaching Winchester he found him unable
to proceed. Here occurred an incident of travel, which belongs to the picture of life. "After struggling along a few
miles, I came to Opekan Creek, where the low grounds
were covered to the depth of two or three feet by reason of
back-water from a mill below. When I had reached about
midway, the horse determinately refused to proceed, and
there I was, seated on his back in the midst of the water.
There was no way left but to dismount into the water, but
this I was afraid to do on account of my feeble health. Observing a house at some distance I called as loudly as I
could, and at length made myself heard. A large, lazy looking German came down and asked why I was sitting there.
I told him, and entreated him to get a horse and bring me
out, but he said there were no horses near. The want of
sympathy in this man aggravated my distress. At length
a man came along on horseback who immediately led my
horse out; and not only so, but continued with me until




JOURNEY.                    93
nine o'clock at night, when I arrived at the place to which
I had been directed.
(C I found old Mrs. Riley alone; all her sons had gone to
the sacrament at Shepherdstown, where -Dr. Smith and Mr.
Graham  were assisting Mr. Hoge.  The next morning
which was the Sabbath, I went into the neighbourhood to
hear a Methodist preacher. At the close of his sermon he
gave notice that a Presbyterian minister would preach at
Mrs. Riley's that evening. At first I wondered who it could
be that had come into the place, but it soon occurred to me,
that it arose from a misapprehension of something I had
said to Mrs. Riley. The mistake disturbed me not a little.
I went to the stand on which he had preached-for the sermon was in the open air —and begged him to correct the
mistake, but he made light of the difference between a
preacher and an exhorter. In the evening a multitude collected, so that the house could not contain them. When I
arose to speak I explained the matter, and then delivered an
exhortation of some length, as the people seemed greedy to
hear. Indeed there was a considerable excitement among
them, which had been produced by the preaching of Mr.
Hill and also of the clergymen with whom I was travelling."
Provided here with a fresh horse, he set out and pressed
on with all his force to overtake these companions. The
next day he arrived at a neighbourhood where Dr. Smith
had just been preaching, and the evening after arrived at
the house where he was lodging. Dr. Smith's cordiality and
courtesy here appeared to great advantage, and he had it in
his power to communicate great relief to the young and era



94                  PHILADELPHIA.
barrassed stranger.  The company went onward by the way
of York, and at length reached the little town of Pequea,
a spot somewhat remarkable in the history of our church.
Here the venerable Doctor Robert Smith, the father of
tlie President, was still pastor. Here likewise the sacrament was to be celebrated on the approaching Sabbath.
The congregation was large, but without those signs of popular feeling to which our Virginians had been accustomed at
home.  On Monday, in conformity to the old Scottish practice, Mr. Graham discoursed; his sermon was powerful and
pungent, and a certain young man was struck to the heart,
and came to the house inquiring what he should do to be
saved. On Tuesday the four travellers set their faces towards
Philadelphia, and their number was increased by old Dr.
Smith and his wife. We shall here annex copious extracts
from the personal narrative, both as giving a simple description of the impressions made by novel scenes on an unsophisticated mind, and as affording more particulars than
are elsewhere extant concerning a very important General
Assembly.
"I felt a great awe on my spirits at the thought of
entering the great city. My impression was that all eyes
would be directed towards me. As we approached, our company separated, as they expected to lodge in different places.
MIr. Graham and I stopped at a farm-house near Gray's
Ferry, where we made an agreement with the host, a quaker,
for the keeping of our horses. As we rode along the streets
and beheld the people pressing forward with rapid steps, I
was surprised and relieved to find that they took no notice




ASSEMBLY OF 1791.                95
of us. The tavern where we dismounted was, I thinks in
Chestnut Street. Here we found a hale corpulent man of
forty, bouncing about and attending to his guests with little
aid. The floors were not carpeted, but were scoured very
clean, and thickly sprinkled with very white sand.
"After adjusting our dress, we repaired to the church at
the corner of Third and Arch Streets, where the Assembly
was to be opened by a sermon from the Reverend Robert
Smith, D.D., the late moderator. I went under a painful
apprehension that the appearance of such a youth, under
the denomination of a ruling elder, must excite the contempt
or pity of every member. Indeed it was an ill-judged thing.
What struck me with astonishment was that although thousands of people were passing the doors, there were not a
hundred in the church. Dr. Smith preached a sermon of
which I heard very little, as his enunciation was impaired by
the loss of his teeth. He wore a very large white wig,
coming down far over his shoulders, and being short in
stature presented an appearance somewhat grotesque. Most
of the clergy wore wigs; all from the cities and great towns
wore powder, as did many gentlemen whom we met in the
streets. The discourse was delivered with great earnestness,
and the opinion which I formed of the preacher was that he
possessed uncommon ardour of piety. He said much of the
great revival in which he had been a labourer, but seemed
much afraid of the wildfire and disorder, which so much injured the cause in those days. In private he expressed
apprehensions lest his son John Blair Smith and Mr. Graham. were engaged in sending raw and unfurnished ministers




96                  EMINENT MEN.
into the work. He treated me with great tenderness, but
was surprised to hear that I was to be a member, and asked
whether I came as priest or Levite. The excellent old man
lived but a year or two after this time.
"Some interest seemed to be felt as to the choice of
Moderator. The Rev. Dr. John Woodhull, of Freehold,
N. J., was nominated, but Mr. John B. Smith came round
to us, and solicited our votes for Mr. McCreary, an old
minister from Maryland or Delaware, who was said to be a
godly and evangelical man; but Mr. Woodhull had a large
majority. The body was small, consisting of not more than
thirty or forty members. The leading ministers were Dr.
Alison of Baltimore, Dr. McWhorter of Newark, Dr. Ewing
of Philadelphia, Nathaniel Irwin of Neshaminy, James F.
Armstrong of Trenton, Joseph Clark of New Brunswick,
Dr. Cooper, Dr. Latta, and Nathan and Jacob Ker.  Dr.
Nisbet was in constant attendance, but I have forgotten
whether he was a commissioner.  But all Presbyterian
ministers were invited to sit as correspondent members.
President Witherspoon came about the middle of the session, and after a day or two gave place to Dr. Samuel Stanhope Smith. There were few from the south, besides oui
little company. I remember one by the name of Templeton.
Colonel John Bayard, father of John, Samuel, and James A.
Bayard, was there as an elder, and took an active part in all
business, receiving much deference, as he had occupied high
civil offices. Dr. Green was not a member, but came every
day and sometimes engaged in discussion. At that time he
must have been above thirty years of age; his appearance




DR. WOODHULL- DR. NISBET.             97
was dignified and lofty, and except that he was pale he was
at a distance a very handsome man. His peruke was the
finest I ever saw, falling over his shoulders in great curls, which
were white with powder. I was filled with admiration to
hear so fine a man talk seriously about religion; for I had
imbibed the prejudice widely prevalent among the Methodists, that men or women who dressed fashionably and wore
powder and the like ornaments, must be destitute of religion.
" Dr. Woodhull the Moderator was a man of good appearance, about forty-five years of age.  If I remember
aright, William  M. Tennent, afterwards Dr. Tennent of
Abingdon, was the recording clerk, and MIr. Armstrong the
reading clerk. The member who took most upon him, explaining every thing minutely and tediously, was Dr.
McWhorter of Newark.  But though unnecessarily prolix
his remarks were always earnest and judicious. Dr. Nisbet
seemed desirous to learn all that was said; being somewhat
deaf he would go up close to the speaker and turn to him
the hearing ear. His appearance was singular. He was
short in stature, but broad in the face and shoulders and
whole frame, and wore a gray wig which reached far down
his back. HIe took much snuff and seemed to have the
habit of talking to himself, for his lips were in frequent motion, and as he sometimes trotted from one speaker to
another he would utter something audibly. On one of these
occasions as Dr. Hall of North Carolina was making an
earnest speech, with great solemnity of manner, Dr. Nisbet
as he returned to his seat near the Moderator was heard to




98                 DR. WITHERSPOON.
ejaculate,'Poor human nature, poor human nature!' Some
one was officious enough to tell this to Dr. Hall, who was
grievously mortified  and offended.  Nathaniel Irwin  of
Neshaminy was an influential member of this Assembly.
He was very tall, and had a voice the sound of which produced alarm, on a first hearing.  He always took his stand
at a place the most remote from the chair, and seemed tc
utter every thing with the greatest sound he could command.
It was easy to discern that as his head was literally long, sc
it was intellectually. The very first draft of a plan for
raising a permanent:-   -  proceeded from him during
this Assembly.  Joseph Clark of New Brunswick, afterwards Dr. Clark, was a speaker who occupied much time,
from the extreme slowness of his observations.
" About the middle of the Assembly Dr. WVitherspoon
came from  Princeton, and took his seat.  He immediately
participated in the business, and evinced such an intuitive
clearness of apprehension and correctness of judgment, that
his pointed remarks commonly put an end to the discussion.
In most cases I thought I perceived how things should be
decided, and was gratified to find my opinions frequently
confirmed by those of Dr. Witherspoon. But in one instance, in which John D. Blair of Richmond took an active
part, I was entirely misled. The question was whether an
offending member's profession of repentance was a sufficient
ground for immediate restoration.  Mr. Blair read the passage in which our Lord says,'If thy brother offend against
thee seven times in a day,' etc. This seemed to me as cleaI
as the light; but Dr. W\'ithelrspoon arose and dispelled the




DR. SMITH.                  99
delusion, by distinguishing between a private offence, concerning an individual, and a public offence which affected the
church, as also between the offence of a private member and
the offence of a minister.
" Dr. Witherspoon remained only two or three days, after
which Dr. Samuel Stanhope Smith took his place. When
he entered the house I did not observe him, but happening
to turn my head I saw a person whom I must still consider
the most elegant I ever saw. The beauty of his countenance, the clear and vivid complexion, the symmetry of his
form and the exquisite finish of his dress, were such as to
strike the beholder at first sight.  The thought never
occurred to me that he was a clergyman, and I supposed
him to be some gentleman of Philadelphia, who had dropped
in to hear the debate. I ought to have mentioned that Dr.
Witherspoon was as plain an old man as ever I saw, and as
free from  any assumption of dignity. All he said, and
every thing about him bore the marks of importance and
authority. Dr. Green had just returned from the General
Association of Connecticut, which he had attended as a
delegate. He gave an account of his reception, and brought
forward a resolution to agree with them in a concert of
prayer for the revival of religion. This was opposed by Dr.
Alison, in a speech of great power and eloquence. I never
heard a man who could pour out such a torrent of strong
thoughts and expressions, without the least appearance of
effort; for he made no attempt to play the orator, but commonly leaned over the side of the pew and seldom raised
either his head or his hands. Dr. Green made an able and




100             BUSINESS OF ASSEMBLY.
pious speech in reply, in the course of which he mentioned
that the only three men who opposed it in the General Association were a Mr. Church, a Mr. L6rd, and a Mr. Devotion.
Dr. Smith was also opposed to it, and had caused it to be
cast out in the Synod of New-York and New Jersey. But
our Southern ministers, fresh from a great revival, were zealously in favour of it, as were the members from the west of
Pennsylvania. So that the resolution was carried by a large
majority.
":The only difficult and unpleasant cases, which came
before the Assembly of 1791, were the following. A certain
minister had been guilty of a great crime, which was not
mentioned; after a season of the deepest sorrow and full
confession and profession of repentance, he was restored by
the Presbytery of Newcastle by which he had been deposed.
He soon afterwards removed up the North River, carrying
with him clear credentials. But after a while the report of
the crime followed him; the Presbytery within whose bounds
he now was found the charge to be true, and brought a complaint against the Presbytery of Newcastle, for dismissing
the member as in good standing, who had been thus guilty.
There was much warmth among some of the old men about
this matter. Dr. Cooper was not, I think, a regular member
of the Assembly, but spoke as a correspondent. A severer
countenance I never looked upon, and in debate his words
were sharp as a two-edged sword. He made a reply to a
speech of Dr. Samuel S. Smith, which was very tart and
cutting.  The other case was a complaint of Newcastle
Presbytery against that of Lewes, because the latter had




DEPARTURE.                   101
taken under their care and licensed a candidate while he was
under censure of the former.
" Our ministers were warm from a great revival, and for
a year or two had been engaged in organizing a plan for sending out missionaries. Indeed the Synod of Virginia had at
this time four or five young men in the field. These were
Nash LeGrand, William Hill, Cary Allen, Robert Marshall,
and John Lyle.
" While in Philadelphia I was frequently at the house of
old Mrs. Hodge, the grandmother of Professor Hodge. Here
John B. Smith and his family were entertained, and here I
saw also the widow of President Finley of Princeton, who
was at this time entirely blind. Dr. J. B. Smith remained
in Philadelphia, as the Third Presbyterian Church (of which'
the writer was afterwards pastor) had given him a call,
after the death of Dr. Duffield."
It was now the month of June, and as the weather was
extremely hot and the roads were dusty, the little party
determined to lie by during the day and travel by night.
They crossed the Blue Ridge at Black's Gap, by the light
of the moon, which was then near the full. But after midnight they began to feel sleepy, and having cleared the
mountain sought for some lodging-place. Part of the company found a house on the right; Mr. Graham and his
young companion went further, and turned into a farmclearing on the left. It was a log house, and the family
were asleep in bed. But in conformity with the hospitable
customs of the land, the mountaineer arose and admitted
them, and took charge of their horses. The guests were




102                SOMNAMBULISM.
shown up stairs, or rather up a ladder, to a loft under the
roof. Here they were made acquainted with the German
fashion of sleeping under a bed, in lieu of other covering
The next day Dr. Hall proposed to introduce them to a case
of somnambulism or irregular mental action, which carried
some appearance of the supernatural. The person was a
young woman of the neighbourhood, who every day at a certain hour seemed to fall into a trance, and uttered wonderful things.
" We pushed hard," says the narrative, " to get to the
house by the hour of her paroxysm, which was one o'clock.
Her name was Susannah Orendorf, and she was the daughter
of a farmer near Sharpsburg. The young woman was reclining on a bed, very pale, and clad in white. She was
attended by an elder sister, who with the parents agreed in
asserting that she had eaten nothing for five or six months,
and that the only thing which entered her lips was a sip of
sweetened water, of which a tumbler stood near her on the
table. This was considered miraculous by many, and the
Methodists preached about Susannah, and related her sayings
in their sermons. Multitudes came to see her; some above
a hundred miles; so that there would sometimes be two
hundred people there at one time. After coming out of one
of her epileptic fits, she would tell those around her what
she had seen in heaven; and so credulous were some that
they came to ask whether she had seen certain friends of
theirs who had lately died. On this point, however, she could
give no satisfactory information. Some wished to know
which religious denomination was most approved in heaven,




SLEEPING PREACHER.                103
The girl answered more discreetly than could have been expected from her education-for she was very ignorant-saying,' In the other world people are not judged of by their
professions, but the sincerity of their hearts, and the goodness of their conduct.' Some very noisy persons came from
Newtown to see her; and as a great company was collected
they engaged in devotional exercises. One of their number,
John Hill, a man of great muscular power and a stentorian
voice, exerted himself to the utmost in prayer, keeping time
with one of his feet and both his hands. When he was done,
Susannah asked him,'Why do you speak so loud? Do you
think the Almighty is hard of hearing?'
"At nearly the same hour every day, after a little convulsive agitation she seemed to fall into a swoon, ceased to
breathe, and lay calm and motionless as a corpse. As she
recovered herself a sound was heard, as if issuing from her
breast, and she commonly awoke singing. We asked her
for some account of what she had seen in her last visit.
Without hesitation she began a narrative of her journey to
heaven, which greatly resembled some of Mohammed's descriptions. She went over a very high and beautiful bridge,
which appeared to be made of ivory.  She entered paradise,
where she beheld the angels flying about in all directions.
and heard companies of them  singing.  On her arrival she
was presented with bread as white as snow and exceedingly
delicious, which she ate every day, and by which she was
nourished, so as to have no need nor appetite for earthly
food. The most remarkable occurrence was that a beautiful
and majestic person, whom she took to be our Saviour, came




104                  RETROSPECT.
to hei, and gave her a white flower, which she took to btr i
token of his love. On being requested to sing one of the
tunes which she had learnt in heaven, she complied without
reluctance; uttering in a soft and somewhat melodious voice
a strain, which however consisted of only a few notes continually repeated. Being then accustomed to learn tunes
by ear, I caught up this strain, and could repeat it, but
have long since forgotten it. This was no doubt a case of
epilepsy, which continued more than a year, and then
gradually left her; but she did not live long after her recovery."
In looking back on this visit to the great city of
America, Mr. Alexander was accustomed to say, that he
found less of that warm and impulsive religion which the
revivals of Virginia had made dear to him, than he expected.
But he often recurred with pleasure to the animated piety
of Joseph Eastburn, and of Mrs. Hodge, a venerable Christian
lady of Philadelphia.




CHAPTER SIXTH.
1791.
IIEOLOGICAL STUDIES-LICENSURE-EARLY SERMONS —-CHARACTER OF
PREACHING-MR. IIOGE-LABOURS IN BERKELEY-ENGAGEMENT AS
MISSIONARY.
AT the period to which our narrative relates, the means
of education for the ministry were few and irregular.
Mr. Alexander enjoyed, however, the guidance of Mr. Graham, whom through life he continued to regard as the chief
instrument employed by Providence in educing and disciplining his faculties. "For a number of years," he records,
" candidates for the gospel ministry had been very few, so
that there seemed no prospect of a supply to the churches,
when the acting ministry should pass away. But now the
scene was changed.  A  number of young men who had
finished their academical course, were arrested in their
career and brought under the influence of the truth. These
were now disposed to devote themselves to the important
business of preaching the gospel. This not only furnished to
Mr. Graham a pleasing prospect as it relates to the Church,
but opened a field of useful employment in preparing these




106              THEOLOGICAL CLASS.
candidates for the ministry. It was a work for which in many
respects he was well fitted, and in which he evidently tool
much delight, especially when he had pupils who received
instruction with docility and entered fully into his views and
explanation of doctrines. For although he constantly inculcated the right and duty of searching for the truth, free from
the trammels of authority, he was never well pleased if any
of them thought differently on any subject from himself.
A theological class was formed, whose reading he directed,
and who attended at his study on one day of the week,
where they read their compositions on prescribed subjects,
and discussed subjects previously given out; while he presided, and in the conclusion gave his own views of the
matter. By this kind of training a number of young men,
who afterwards were well known and esteemed in the church,
wAere prepared. Though Mr. Graham had a scientific turn,
and delighted much in experimental philosophy, it was the
philosophy of the mind which was his favourite study; and
this he had long pursued, not by reading books on the subject, but by paying close attention to the exercises of his
own mind. He had reduced his thoughts to a system,
which he was fond of unfolding to his pupils; so that he
contracted a liking for this department of philosophy. His
thorough knowledge of the laws of thinking evidently gave
him a great advantage in explaining many difficulties which
are frequently met with in religious experience. He was
not much read in books, and for many years perused few,
and commonly expressed a low esteem for what he read,
There were few authors of whom he spoke with entire appro



MR. GRAHAM S VIEWS.               107
bation. He continually recommended to his pupils to think
for themselves, and to depend on their own resources rather
than on authors. On some this had a good effect; but it
was a saying which all could not receive. In almost every
case his students adopted his views of theology, and held
them at least for a while with much confidence. On all
points he was strictly Calvinistic; but he had his own method of explaining things.  One of his radical principles was
that the rational soul of man can undergo no moral change,
except through the influence of motives, or the presentation
through the understanding of such objects as excite the
affections. He therefore scouted the opinion that in regeneration there is any physical operation on the soul itself, and
held that by the influence of the Holy Spirit truth is presented in its true nature to the rational mind, and when
thus perceived cannot but produce an effect correspondent
with its nature. He therefore fully held what has been
called in some places the'Light-scheme'; believing that all
moral changes must be produced by new views, and can be
produced in no other way. But how the dead soul could
have truth thus presented to it, without being first vivified,
he did not explain. In effect, however, he held with those
who believe that all moral acts and exercises are produced
by the operation of the truth, justly apprehended, but that
in order to this a regenerating influence must be sent forth
to render the soul capable of such views of truth as will produce these effects.
" His views of justification by the imputed righteousness
of Christ were very clear and sound; but he considered faith




108                     BOOKS.
to be simply a belief of the truth, under a spiritual appre.
hension of its nature. Nor would he agree that any affection or emotion which flowed from such belief properly
belonged to its nature, as distinguished from other graces.
His idea of the primitive state of man was, that though an
accountable moral agent without any supernatural influence,
he could be preserved firom falling, when exposed to temptation, only by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. He therefore thought it the easiest thing in the world to show how a
human being, though perfectly holy, might be seduced into
sin when left to himself. The divine influence, which was
absolutely gratuitous, being withdrawn, man, though still
possessing ability to perform his duty, is exceedingly liable
to be led away, on account of natural imbecility, a complicated constitution,-  and strong natural propensities.  Respecting the whole mediatorial work, Sir. Graham  was
entirely sound; and in his preaching the doctrines of grace
were always prominent."t
Books were scarce, and he mentions the inconvenience
which it cost him to carry a quarto copy of Blair's Lectures,
which his preceptor had bought in Philadelphia.  This work
he read with avidity, but he found that the rules were
chiefly such as had already occurred to his own mind.  He
had perused Witherspoon's Lectures on Moral Philosophy,
which he had transcribed from a manuscript, as the book
was not yet published.  He confesses that this subject,
which afterwards occupied so much of his attention, did not
* The manuscript is here doubtful.
t MS. Life of the Rev. William Graham.




STUDIES.                    109
then awaken any interest in him.  The remainder of the
summer was spent ill vigorous study. There were now
more than half a dozen divinity students, whose intercourse
was fraternal and advantageous.  He also exercised his gifts
in religious meetings, generally with much ease and fluency;
but he records that when on some occasions he failed, his
feelings of mortification were excruciating. It was however
in such exercises as these that he laid the foundation for
that habit of extraordinary extemporaneous discourse which
was his grand peculiarity as a preacher and teacher, and
which was in no degree abated after threescore years of
ministry.
Though his health was still unsettled, he found it necessary to devote himself with spirit to his theological preparations. Besides a compendium of Turrettine in Latin,
he resorted to the Writings of Owen and Edwards; and
perused Bates's Harmony of the Divine Attributes, which
was one of his favourite works as long as he lived. He conversed almost daily with his preceptor, though the regular
meeting of the young men in Mr. Graham's study was only
once a week. As there was now a class in theology, and as other
young men who had not completed their academical course,
were pious and interested in such subjects, much time was
spent in free conversation and animated discussion. " Among
those of the latter class," says he, " who were still engaged
in classical learning, was George Baxter, afterwards so highly distinguished as a preacher and a theologian.  He had a
mind formed for accurate distinctions and logical discussion."
During the year, besides other compositions, he wrote seven




110              PRESBYTERIAL TRIALS.
sermons, which were read before the class, and criticised by
Mr. Graham.  The first of these he preserved as a curiosity;
it was on Acts xvi. 31, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,"
etc. At the meeting in the spring of 1791, held at New
Monmouth, he exhibited several of his pieces of trial, and
was examined on the sciences and languages.  With the
measure of Latin which he then had attained, his Exegesis,
as it is oddly named, gave him no small trouble. His Critical Exercise was on Heb. vi. 1-7; and this also vexed him
considerably, as he spent much time on the subject without
arriving at satisfaction.  His Popular Lecture, or Homily as
it was then called, was on the difference between a living
and a dead faith.  "The essay," says he, "is I believe still
among my old papers, and the view taken of the subject is
not materially different from that which I should now take."
These preparations gave him more than the usual amount
of trouble, from  the low condition of body in which he still
found himself. In September the Presbytery met at the
Stone Meeting,-House in Augusta.  He had at this time
gone through all his trials, except the examination in theology and the "popular sermon."  He was however very
reluctant to be licensed, on account of an abiding sense of
unfitness. On this subject he had many conversations with
Mr. Graham, in which he strongly and repeatedly stated his
objections. But his pastor and teacher disregarded the
scruples, and urged hLim to enter on the work of preaching,
for this among other reasons that his health might be confirred by travelling; adding that he might continue his
studies as usual and make excursions among the destitute,




FIRST SERMON.                 111
as he felt inclined. At this time his stature was small and
his whole appearance was strikingly boyish.  " The Presbytery," we use his own words, "had given me a text for a
popular sermon which I disliked exceedingly, as it brought
to my mind the circumstance which distressed me in the
view of entering the ministry, namely my youth and boyish
appearance. The text was Jeremiah i. 7,'But the Lord
said unto me, Say not, I am a child, for thou shalt go to all
that I shall send thee, and whatsoever I command thee
thou shalt speak.' I read the sermon from  the pulpit, but
with very little satisfaction to myself.  As the ministers
were on their way to the Synod, they had not time to examine me on theology, and so adjourned to meet at Winchester. When we arrived there a meeting was held in the
house of James Holliday, where I was examined, principally
by the Rev. John Blair Smith; but as he was taken suddenly ill before it was concluded, the examination was continued
by Mr. Hoge. It was then determined that I should be
licensed in the public congregation, on Saturday morning,
October the first, 1791. This was indeed a solemn day.
During the service I was almost overwhelmed with an awful
feeling of responsibility and unfitness for the sacred office
That afternoon I spent in the fields, in very solemn reflection and earnest prayer. My feelings were awfuil, and far
from being comfortable. I seemed to think, however, that
the solemn impressions of that day would never leave me.
O deceitful heart!"
In regard to the text abovementioned, it is said in
another manuscript; "It was assigned to me by the Rev.




112            ENTRANCE ON MINISTRY.
Samuel Houston, not only because of my youth, but because
I had strongly remonstrated against having my trials hurried
to a conclusion, as I did not wish to be licensed for several
years. The house was full of people, and the whole Synod
was present. When I stood up to answer the questions,"
which were proposed by Dr. Smith, though only a corresponding member, " I felt as if I could have sunk into the
earth." The sermon mentioned above was most happily recovered by us, among the papers of the late Mrs. LeGrand.
It bears marks of careful preparation, though written in a
hand as yet quite unformed. Notwithstanding the suggestion of the text, there is a characteristic absence of all allusion to his own youth or any thing personal. It is a plain,
but clear and sensible discussion of that great topic, a Call
to the Ministry. Equally beyond our expectation was it to
recover the first sermon which he ever wrote, while yet a
student, and of which mention has been made. It is upon
Acts xvi. 31, and bears the date, 1790.
Having now been licensed as a probationer, it was his
intention to return home and devote himself to study; but
the purpose was overruled by a clear providence. Tidings
came that the Rev. William Hill (a servant of Christ who
has gone to his rest since we last mentioned his name) was
prevented by a fever from continuing his labours in Berkeley,
now Jefferson County.  Some religious awakening had taken
place in that region, and the neighbouring ministers urged
MIr. Alexander to come to their aid.  Mr. LeGrand also was
desirous of making an excursion, and offered an inviting field
9f labour in his congregations of Opekan and Cedar Creek,




EARLY SERMONS.                  113
including Winchester.  A  revival had been in progress
among his people for some months. The following is an
abridged record of some of these earliest labours.
" After the Synod adjourned, I went with Mr. LeGrand
to an appointment which he had at old Mr. Feely's, some
fifteen miles from Winchester.  He told me that I must
preach, but I positively refused. He said nothing at the
time, but when the congregation was assembled, he arose and
said,'Mr. Alexander, please to come forward to the table,
and take the books and preach.' I knew not what to do,
but rather than make a disturbance I went forward and
preached my first sermon after licensure, from Galatians iii.
24,'Wherefore the law was our schoolmaster to bring us
unto Christ.' Among the hearers was old General Morgan,
whose residence was in the vicinity.
" My next sermon was preached at Charlestown, from the
text, Acts xvi. 31,'Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and
thou shalt be saved.'  I had prepared a skeleton of the
sermon and placed it before me; but the house being open
a puff of wind carried it away into the midst of the congregation.  I then determined to take no more paper into the
pulpit; and this resolution I kept as long as I was a pastor,
except in a very few instances.:  I had, it is true, written
seven sermons, but had committed none of them to memory,
and to this day though I have made several efforts I have
never succeeded in getting a discourse by heart. Having of
* " From that time for twenty years, I never took a note of any kind into
the pulpit; except that I read my trial sermon at ordination." —— MS. Reminiscences.




114             MANNER OF PREACHImN,.
late been much accustomed to exhort in public, I felt little
embarrassment and went on fluently enough."
If we were more fully provided with reports other than
his own of these early efforts, we should doubtless find that
in the estimation of all who heard them they were of a high
order. So far as he could be drawn out to speak of his own
performances-a subject which he always avoided-these
were equal to any public endeavours of his life. Great interest was added to his other qualities by the juvenile appearance of the preacher; indeed he seemed but a little boy.
His complexion was fair, his eye was dark and penetrating,
and his voice according to every witness of that period was
incomparably clear and flute-like. It always was both resonant and penetrating, but at this time was of a silvery tone
both in speaking and singing. His fluency and command of
words were extraordinary; and in these youthful discourses
he gave full swing to an imagination which he learned more
and more to chasten in later years. The Rev. Dr. Speece,
once speaking to us concerning his early exuberance, said,
" You think him animated now, but if you had heard him
in his youth, you would compare him to nothing so readily
as to a young horse of high blood, let out into a spacious
pasture, exercising every muscle, and careering in every
direction with extravagant delight."
There are no circumstances which bring out the gift of
pulpit eloquence more fully or speedily than those in which
he was now placed.  Going rapidly from assembly to assembly, followed by awakened and admiring crowds, in times of
great revival, and during all the intervals plying the same




MEETINGS.                   115
work among warm and affectionate brethren, by conversation,
prayer and praise, he was kept in that state of healthful
and pleasurable excitement which animates and exalts the
powers, and forms habits of ready and powerful expression.
So accustomed was he to associate pleasurable sensations
with pulpit-work, that even in later years he used to laugh
at the notion of any one's being injured by preaching. And
it was commonly observed, through most of his life, that
however depressed in spirits he might be before the service,
he always came from it in the highest state of exhilaration.
Never was he more free or full in conversation. These were
the times at which to draw from him his most elevated religious discourse, as well as his liveliest narratives; and his
own household, or those in which he was a guest, remember
such hours with a pensive delight. Like good Rowland Hill,
he was cured of many an ailment bl the delivery of a long
and animated sermon.
After visiting Shepherdstown and preaching for Dr.
Hoge, he returned to Frederick, to supply Mr. LeGrand's
place according to appointment. Gladly would we multiply
such recitals as that which follows: " The weeks which I
spent at Opekan passed pleasantly. Besides the services of
the Sabbath we had a weekly meeting at Major Gilkin's.
These were delightful gatherings, for the presence of God
seemed to be with us. I remember one meeting in particular
in which all present seemed to be melted down in a remarkable manner. On one of the days on which I attended there,
an old man, after sermon, told me that he wished to speak
with me. He led -me as far from the house as he could do




116             A CONVERTED FAMILY.
without crossing a high fence, and then burst into tears,
saying,'I am a poor old sinner!' His weeping was so profise that he could say no more, except to request mne to visit
him at his own house. This I promised, and next day I
found my way through a desolate pine wood and an intricate
path, to the dwelling, where the poor old man was trying to
spell out some sentences in the New Testament. He said
that he was unable to read, but could spell a little, and thus
could make out some things which gave him much satisfaction. But he informed me that his boys, who were now
absent, could read pretty well, and that they had spent
nearly all the preceding night over the New Testament; for
his sons were as anxious to learn as himself. The old woman
was busy spinning on a flax wheel, and continued to work
while I conversed with her husband. At length I turned to
her with the words,' Aad what does your wife think of these
things?' She immediately ceased from her work, and burst
into tears, but answered not a word. Here was a family, of
which the heads had grown gray without having ever attended public worship; and who until now knew no more of
a Saviour than the heathen. But they were now like persons
come into a new world. Indeed all their views and feelings
were entirely new. Salvation had come to their house. I
learned that a multitude of poor people lived in these pines,
who seldom heard a sermon except when some itinerant
Methodist passed through the settlement. I was desirous to
preach to them; and the opportunity was afforded by an
invitation to the house of a Mrs Carlisle, the wife of a
Quaker miller, who had been read ouLt of meeting for marry



CONVERT OF WHITEFIELD.             117
ing a person not of the Society. But he retained all his
attachments to Quakerism, and was rather crusty towards
his wife when she wished to have Presbyterian ministers at
the house, and commonly went out of the way. Mrs. Carlisle's mother, Mrs. Douglass, lived with her, a convert of
Whitefield, and a woman of uncommon piety. From her I
heard much about the preaching of that great man. She
had resided at White Clay Creek, where Charles Tennent
was minister, and where Mr. Whitefield preached several
days in succession to thousands of people. The old lady
was now and had long been a Seceder. Knowing the
opposition of that people to Whitefield, I thought it surprising that one of his admirers should have joined herself to
them. But she thus explained it. The opposers of the
revival, in the Presbyterian Church, were called the Old
Side, and where she lived they had manifested a malignant
opposition to the work of grace, insomuch that the new converts considered the Old Side as the declared enemies of the
revival. But after some time a union was effected, which so
offended some of the zealous disciples of Whitefield, that
when about the same time the Seceders made their appearance, they were joined by the disaffected persons, Mrs.
Douglass being included. She was the mother of James
and Daniel Douglass, of Alexandria, Va., and the grandmother of the Rev. James W. Douglass, who died at Fayetteville some years since."
After supplying Mr. LeGrand's pulpit until his return,
Mr. Alexander proceeded to aid his friend 31r. Hill, preaching often in private houses, and sometimes in the small




118              STUDY OF SERMONS.
Presbyterian church at Charlestown.  "Here," says he," I
first saw old John White, the father of Judge White of W~inchester, and grandfather of the minister at Romney, in
Hampshire.  The whole White family were remarkable foi
strength of mind and acquaintance with the Scriptures.
The old gentleman had Erskine's Gospel Sonnets by heart,
and was eminent for simple piety. I think he dated his
religious impressions from hearing Mr. Robinson, the first
regular Presbyterian minister who entered Virginia.  I
was now in the region where I was to labour, and made my
home at Alexander White's, the son of the fore-mentioned.
The winter was hard, and the farm-houses in which I
preached during the week were very uncomfortable places
for speaking. The attention of the common people was
awake for a considerable distance around, but they were
generally very ignorant of the doctrines of religion, and my
preaching was more of the didactic than the hortatory kind.
I had no books with me but my small pocket Bible, and
found very little to read in the houses where I stopped. I
was therefore thrown back entirely on my own thoughts. I
studied every sermon on horseback, and in bed before I went
to sleep, and some of the best sermons that I ever prepared
were digested in this way and at this time."
In reading records like these we are led to see the force
of such remarks as those of the Rev. Dr. Hall, who says
" It deserves to be noted by all ministers and candidates,
that one of the chief external means by which Dr. Alexander attained what are often called his inimitable excellencies
as a preacher, was his spending several years after licensure




COMPENSATION.                 119
and ordination, in itinerant missionary service, preaching in
the humblest and most destitute places, often in the open
air, and adapting his language and manner to minds that
needed the plainest kind of instruction. It will be a good
day for the ministry and the church, when the performance
of a term of such itinerant service shall be exacted as part
of the trials of every probationer before ordination.":
In a record contained in another manuscript, the same
subject is touched.  "Some of the sermons which I most
frequently preached during my ministry I studied out this
winter, without putting pen to paper. Indeed I had no
opportunity to write sermons. The houses in which I lodged
had but one [sitting room], and I remained but a short time
at any one place. When Mr. Hill returned from Charlotte,
I was at liberty to give up the field which I had occupied;
but the winter was severe and travelling unpleasant, and Mr.
Hoge urged me to continue in the neighbourhood until
spring. For all the labours of the winter I received not
one cent, and indeed expected nothing.  But as I came
from home without expecting to be long absent, I found that
if I remained I must provide myself with some articles of
clothing. Upon my mentioning this as a reason for returning home, Mr. Hoge took me to a store and became responsible for what I needed; and as soon as I returned home I
sent him the money which was due.
"' While I remained I continued to preach frequently, for
Mr. loge, for Mr. Hill, antl for old Mr. Vance of Tuscarora,
* Sermon on the death of Dr. Alexanlder, in'Home, the School, and the
Church,' Vol. iii. p. 98.




120                  MR. HOGE.
who then lay upon his death-bed. In his congregation 1
met with one Robert Campbell, whose memory was prodigious. The Rev. Dr. McKnight had formerly been his
pastor, and was held by him in great admiration. Campbell
could repeat many of the Doctor's sermons verbatim. After
removing to New-York Dr. McKnight resolved to publish
several sermons on Faith, but he had lost the manuscript of
one among them. He had recourse to Mr. Campbell, who
supplied what was missing, and, as I was informed, with
great exactness."
There were few of Dr. Alexander's early friends and
counsellors of whom he spoke oftener or more affectionately
than Mr. Hoge, the father of the President. " As MIr. Hoge
lived only eleven miles from Charlestown, the centre of my
operations,-here we resume his own narrative,-" whenever
I could get a day or two I would spend it at his house, and
though he was very poor and lived on a mere pittance, he
always received me kindly and gave me free use of his books.
But my highest privilege was his conversation; in which he
assumed no magisterial air, but treated me as if I had been
his equal. His disposition was in contrast with that of Mr.
Graham, who was very dogmatical, treated with contempt
all opinions which he rejected, and was impatient of contradiction.  But Mr. Hoge patiently and candidly listened
to every argument and objection brought against his opinions, and proposed his own views with so much modesty that
I felt altogether at my ease in conversing with him. He
caused me still more to hesitate about certain opinions which
I had heard proposed by my teacher; and this not by




SPIRITUAL ILLUMINATION.            121
making any direct attack on them, but by gently insinuating
doubts and considerations which led me to a more thorough
inquiry.  One of these opinions was that regeneration is
produced by light. Mr. Graham always ridiculed the idea
of a moral change being produced in any other way than by
motives or a view of the truth.  This seemed to some as evident as an axiom; but Mr. Hoge stated difficulties about
this light. How can light shine into a blind mind, without
some previous operation on that mind? The natural man
cannot know the things of the Spirit of God, because they
are spiritually discerned; and before they can be spiritually
discerned the eyes of the mind must be opened. It is true
that all pious exercises are produced by a view of the truth,
but this view of the truth is the effect of regeneration, not
the cause; unless we confound regeneration and conversion.
The Spirit of God, by an instantaneous touch, prepares the
soul to apprehend the truth. By an act of omnipotence he
communicates spiritual life, and the soul thus quickened,
begins to see with new eyes, and experience new emotions and
affections. These views I have entertained since my youth;
being intermediate between two extremes; first, that we are
regenerated by light let into the mind, or by a presentation
of the truth objectively to the soul; and secondly, as the
Hopkinsians maintain, that the understanding needs no
change, but to have the truth doctrinally apprehended; that
all depravity is in the heart, and therefore that regeneration
is merely a change of the heart or feelings, while the views of
the understanding remain as they were before regeneration.
"As I had an ardent thirst for knowledge, the time which




122                 END OF TOUR.
I spent under this quiet roof was diligently employed ir.
reading and conversation; except when we attended religious
meetings, in which Mr. Hoge took great delight, being gratified when there was the least appearance of lively feeling.
He seemed never to be discouraged, and surely did not despise the day of small things. At this day, when books are
so abundant, it may surprise some to learn that until now I
had never seen a copy of the Septuagint; and that which
Mr. Hoge had was not complete. I seized it with great
avidity, and read as much as I could during the time I spent
there. Here I also read Chrysostom on the Priesthood, in
an English translation; so that Mason errs in saying that
his is the first translation ever made into English.  This
work produced a very solemn impression on my mind, but it
seemed to relate [to matters] of which before I had no conception.  I also read Riccaltoun's Exposition of the Epistle
to the Galatians, and with considerable profit."
From a private record of texts and places, we find that
in the first fifteen months of his ministry he preached one
hundred and thirty-two sermons.
In the month of March, 1791, he turned his face homeward, having preached all winter without stipend.  "Indeed," says he, " I never thought of compensation for what
I did, not considering my labours as of any real value." At
Millerstown, or Woodstock, as it is now called, he was detained some days by a flood. He lodged with a Mr. Morris,
from Newcastle in the Northern Neck, the only Presbyterian
in those parts, except the German Reformned. He preached
in a house belonging to the Germans.  The village was at




STAUNTON.                   123
that day noted for irreligion and wantonness. On his way
to Lexington he stopped at Staunton. The town contained
no place of worship but an Episcopal church, which was
without a minister. " It was proposed," he continues, " that
I should preach in the little Episcopal church; to which I
consented with some trepidation; but when I entered the
house in the evening it was crowded, and all the gentry of
the town were out, including Judge Archibald Stuart, who
had known me from a child. I took for my text,'What is
a man profited,' &c. My first head was to show the worth
of the soul, the second how it might be lost, and the third
the unprofitableness of all other acquisitions, if the soul
should be lost. As I was very young, not yet twenty years
of age, and my friends were well known here, I was heard
with great attention. In speaking of the worth of the soul,
I undertook to give a brief analysis of its powers. Judge
Stuart expressed surprise that I should know any thing of
the philosophy of the mind, a science then little cultivated.
But it had been the favourite study of Mr. Graham, my
preceptor; who, while he read little on other subjects, had
sent for the writings of Reid and Beattie which had just
come out. After reading these, however, he planned a system of his own, remarkable for its simplicity and perspicuity,
which he communicated to all his students; and this gave
my mind a turn to this study which may account for any
proficiency I may have since made in it."
It would be unpardonable to omit the account of his
return home, given by the subject of the narrative himself.
c' When I reached home," so he wrote almost half a century




124              PREACHING AT HOME.
after the event, "there was a great curiosity in men, wo.
men, and children, to hear me preach.  They had often
heard me speak in public, but preaching was another thing.
Accordingly, on the next Lord's Day a great congregation
filled the Court House, which was then used for public worship, for at that time there was no church in the place. My
text was John ix. 25,'One thing I know, that whereas I
was blind, now I see.' My delivery in those days was fluent
and rapid. I never appeared to hesitate or be at a loss for
words; my thoughts flowed too fast for me.  I laboured
under two great faults as a public speaker; the first was
extreme rapidity of utterance, not so much from indistinct
articulation as neglect of pauses. I ran on till I was perfectly out of breath, so that before I was done my inhalations became audible; the other fault was looking steadily
down upon the floor. This arose from a fear of losing the
train of my thought; for my sermons were closely studied,
though not written.  My voice, though not sonorous, was
uncommonly distinct and clear, so that without painful exertion I could be heard in the largest churches, or by a great
assembly out of doors. I preached but one other Sabbath
in my native county, and that was not in the town, but at
Oxford meeting-house. I had very little knowledge of the
estimation in which my preaching was held, and was always
surprised to hear of a favourable opinion expressed by any
one; for I was so conscious of my own defects, that often
after preaching I was ashamed to colne down from  the
pulpit, and wondered that any could speak kindly to me."
" As my health was now good, and I had no thought of




MISSIONARY WORK.                125
taking a pastoral charge, I embraced an offer to travel as aim
itinerant missionary in Eastern Virginia. This mission was
in pursuance of a plan adopted by the Synod of Virginia,
at their second meeting, in 1789. "There was a Commission to superintend this important matter, by whom were
appointed, successively, Mr. LeGrand, Mr. Hill, )Mr. Cary
Allen, Mr. Marshall, Mr. John Lyle, and Mr. Alexander.
Respecting the last named, the minutes contain this statement, under date April 9, 1792:'Upon motion,, the Coznmission elected M3r. Archibald Alexander, a probationer
under care of Lexington Presbytery, to the office of missionary; upon condition that the Presbytery recommend him.
Mr. Graham and Mr. John Lyle are directed to apply to the
Presbytery for such recommendation.':
"The common sentiment was against my remaining
at home in study, and Mr. Graham urged me to accept the
appointment. Another young preacher, Benjamin Grigsby,
a friend and acquaintance of' mine from my youth, had received license in the spring, and he and I were sent together
to preach to a people of whom  we knew nothing.  Grigsby
was a young man of talents and scholarship, and was also
a fine speaker, and possessed of easy and popular manners.
In the theological class which studied under Mr. Graham he
was undoubtedly the favourite of his teacher.  But though
respected, he was never much a favourite with his associates.
HIe was two years my senior, but I was licensed six months
before him.  Our directions were to proceed to Petersburg,
and there separate. While he went eastward froirm that place,
* See Foote's Sketches of Virginia, p. 529.




126                   AMHERST.
I was to turn westward, along the North Carolina line
Being both furnished with good horses and other appoint.
ments, we took our departure from old Mr. Grigsby's on'Iart's Bottom. Our first effort was to cross the Blue Ridge
at Prior's Gap, over the steepest part of the mountain, by
a bridle-path.  We found no difficulty, as we both had been
accustomed to mountain climbing. For hours however we
talked but little, as it was necessary to ride singly in the
path. We had been advised to lodge the first night on the
Amherst side of the Ridge at the house of Captain David
Crawford, several of whose sons had been at the Academy,
and of whom one was now an Episcopal minister.  We
were kindly received by the family, especially by the young
parson of the parish, who laid himself out to make us comfortable. Appointments for us to preach in his church
had been sent on, for we were so ignorant, that it never occurred to us that any objection could arise. Let it be noted,
that there was not then any Episcopal minister in Rockbridge or Augusta. Mr. Charles Crawford had received the
notice and published it to his small congregation, near the
Tobacco Row Mountain. He also accompanied us to the
church, where we found about twenty respectable planters,
to whom 3Mr. Grigsby preached. After service, Mr. Crawford,
having first conversed with the few people who were out,
came and presented in a very formal manner the thanks of
the congregation to Mr. Grigsby for his excellent sermon.
The next day young Mr. Crawford gave us letters to an acquaintance at whose house we might lodge, and then took
his horse and accompanied us part of the way."




PRINCE EDWARD.                127
The next day our young travellers reached the mansion
of Colonel William Cabell, of whom the manuscript notes
that he was the grandfather of Doctors John, Robert and
William Breckinridge, and the brother of Mrs. Paulina
Read, afterwards Mrs. LeGrand; names which cannot be
omitted in any contribution to Presbyterian annals. Crossing
the James River at Warminster they reached the house of
Colonel Joseph Cabell, and thence proceeded to their lodgings
at the New Store. The manners and customs of that region have changed since the statements which follow were
penned. " We were not aware that this neighbourhood was
famous for the abuse of travellers. At an'ordinary' not
more than a mile from the place, on the great Buckingham
road, a set of fellows used to meet for carousal, who never
failed to maltreat any traveller who came to the house. One
night they caught an old man named Ross, from Richmond,
and held him in the well for some time with his head downward. Another stranger they threatened to throw into the
well, unless he would consent to dance for them; and at
this exercise they kept him until a late hour of the night;
when some intermission being allowed, he slipped out to the
stable, saddled his horse and fled, being forced to swim over
the Appomatox River."
The next morning brought them to the hospitable mansion of old Mrs. Venable, on the edge of Prince Edward
County. She was of the Michaux family and a descendant
of Huguenots who had settled on the James River; a matron of great shrewdness, information and piety. Her husband had long been dead, and her children were grown up




128               SAMUEL VENABLE.
There was an important vacancy, caused by the resignatior
of Dr. John B. Smith, who had served the united congregations of Cumberland and Briery. Mr. Grigsby was sent
to the former and Mr. Alexander to the latter; little supposing, as he records, that he should ever become their pastor,
as he was not seeking for a settlement. On Sunday evening
he went to Little Roanoke Bridge, and became first acquainted.with Mrs. Paulina Read, whose name must often
be mentioned in these pages. He preached at the house of
old Mrs. Morton, where he had attended a meeting in 1789.
On Wednesday he preached to a small congregation at
Hampden Sidney College.  But the instructions of the
young missionaries did not permit them to spend more than
one Sabbath among these " affectionate and delightful people," and they directed their course towards Petersburg.
During this brief visit Mr. Alexander became acquainted
with Col. Samuel Venable, a man of great distinction, whom
he used to name in connection with Graham, Hoge and
Smith, the counsellors of his youth. His notes concerning
this invaluable friend have great interest, and cannot be
inserted in a more suitable place.  CThree brothers were
among the first settlers in Prince Edward. Nathaniel owned
the place on which the Court House was built, and was
for a long time an elder in the church, and represented the
county in the Legislature. He was also an active trustee
of Hampden Sidney College...  Samuel was his
oldest son, who, though grown up when Samuel Stanhope
Smith opened the Academy of Hampden Sidney, betook
himself to learning, and followed Smith on his removal tc




SAMUEL VENABLE.                129
Princeto(n, where he was graduated [in 1780], as were alsc
three of his brothers, Abram, Richard and Nathaniel. William an(l Thomas were alumni of Hampden Sidney.
" Samuel Venable intended to study law, but was led by
some circumstances to engage in merchandise. This business he carried on in a very judicious manner, so as to accumulate a large estate. He was a man of clear head and
sound judgment, and had made observations on the characters of men as they passed before him; and these observations he had reduced to maxims. He was confident in
the opinions which he had formed, but not inclined to
dispute with those who did not agree with him. He used
to say that when a young man he was fond of disputation,
and thought he could bring others to see as he did, but that
after some experience he found it to be vain, and therefore
suffered others undisturbedly to enjoy their own opinions.
His wife was the daughter of the elder judge Paul Carrington, and sister of the younger; a woman of uncommon
vivacity, wit, and power of sarcasm.  They had twelve
children.
"When Col. Venable was about fifty years of age, he
thought of giving up active business, and retiring to pursue
a course of reading and study, which a busy mercantile life
had prevented. He therefore placed a younger brother in
the firm, and built for himself an office or study separate
from his dwelling, where he anticipated much repose and
gratification. But the event was different. After quitting
business he fell into a hypochondriac state, in which he
fancied that his lungs were ulcerated, and that he could




130               SAMUEL VENABLE.
designate the prec ise spot where the disease was seated. He
was a man of robust frame, and had a broad projecting
chest, and no symptoms of any real pulmonary disease.
The opinions of friends and even of physicians had no effect
to convince him of his error; he persisted in maintaining his
opinion. At this time his nerves became so affected, that
he could scarcely sit still for a few minutes.  Ite kept a
horse saddled at the door, and whatever company he had he
would abruptly leave them when the fit seized him, and
would ride for miles. Nothing seemed to relieve him except
smoking the pipe, a thing which before this he abhorred.
The disease received no effectual check until
he was induced to engage again in active business, which
occupied his attention; and a portion of his former cheerfulness returned. But he never afterwards possessed the firmness and confidence which had characterized him before.
He died suddenly at the Virginia Springs, leaving a large
family well provided for."
During the whole of his life Dr. Alexander was accustomed to speak of Col. Venable as the most remarkable
instance of wisdom matured by experience and observation,
that he had ever known; in which respect he was fond of
comparing him  with Franklin.  The descendants of the
three brothers above mentioned now amount to some hundreds in Virginia and the new  States  and of these a
remarkable number are zealous and efficient members of the
Presbyterian Church.




CHAPTER SEVENTH.
1792.
MISSIONARY TOUR-LUNENBURG-THE MILLWRIGHT-CAPT. CRAiGHEAD —
MR. HUNT-WILLIAM COWAN-NOTTOWAY-AMELIA-PETERSBURG —ML
JARRATT-MECKLENBURG —MR. PATILLO.
FROM Prince Edward the young preachers went towards
Lunenburg.  Before sunset they arrived at the house of
a Mr. Yarborough, a Baptist of some wealth, who received
them with Christian and Virginian hospitality. Here they
gained acquaintance with a man whose case is too remarkable
and characteristic of the times to be omitted. And as the
memorandums of Dr. Alexander respecting his contemporaries
furnish facts which would otherwise be entirely lost, we feel
justified in frequently turning aside to diversify our story by
such episodes.
"Mr. Yarborough took occasion to inform us that there
was a Baptist preacher in his employment as a millwright,
who would be at the house as soon as his work was finished.
Accordingly about the dusk of the evening, an old man in
coarse garb, with leathern apron, and laden with tools, entered
the house and took his seat on the stairs. Neither Mr.




132             ANOTHER MILLWRIGHT.
Grigsby nor I had ever been acquainted with uneducateri
preachers, and we were struck with astonishment that this
carpenter should pretend to preach. When we retired,,Mr.
Shelburie, such was his name, was put into the same room
with us. I felt an avidity to question him respecting his
call to the ministry, taking it for granted that the old man
was ignorant. I therefore began by asking him what he
considered a call to the ministry. Mr. Shelburne perceived
the drift of my question, and instead of giving a general
answer proceeded to a narrative of his own experience, and
to state the circumstances which led him to suppose that
God had called him to be a preacher.  The substance of his
story was as follows:
"'I was born in one of the lower counties of Virginia,
and when young was put to learn the carpenter's trade.
Until I was a man grown and had a family, I never heard
any preaching but from ministers of the Established Church,
and did not even know that there were any others. About
this time came into the neighbourhood a Presbyterian minister, by the name of Martin, whom I went to hear; and
before he was done I was convinced that I was in a lost and
undone condition. He made no stay, and I heard no more
of him. But a wound had been left in my conscience whichl
I knew not how to get healed, and no one about me could
give any valuable advice as to a cure.  I went from day to
day under a heavy burden, bewailing my miserable state,
till at length my distress became so great that 1 could
neither eat nor sleep with any peace or comfort.  My neighbours said that I was falling into melancholy or going amad,




TIE LAY PREACHER.               133
but not one of them had any knowledge from experience of -the
nature of my distress. Thus I continued mourning over my miserable case for weeks and months. I was led, however, io read
constantly in the Bible; but this rather increased than lessened
my distress; until one Sunday evening I saw as clearly as I
ever saw any thing how I could be saved, through the death
of Christ. I was filled with colrfort, and yet sorrow for my
sins flowed more copiously than ever. I praised God aloud,
and immediately told my wife that I had found salvation;
and when any of my neighbours came to see me, I told them
of the goodness of God, and what he had done for my soul,
and how he had pardoned all my sins. As I spoke freely of
the wonderful change I had experienced, it was soon noised
abroad, and many came to see me, and to hear an account
of the matter from my own mouth.
"' On Sabbath evenings my house would be crowded,
and when I had finished my narrative I was accustomed to
give tloem a word of exhortation. And as I could be better
heard when standing, I stood and addressed my neighbours,
without any thought of preaching. After proceeding for
some time in this way, I found that several others began to
be awakened by what they heard from me, and appeared to
be brought through the new birth much as I had been.
This greatly encouraged me to proceed in my work, and
God was pleased to bless my humble labours to the conversion of many. All this time I did no more than relate
my own experience and then exhort my neighbours to seek
unto the Lord for mercy. Thus was I led on from step to
step, until at length I actually became a preacher, without




134              JAMES SHELBURNE.
intending it. Exercised persons would frequently come to me
for counsel, as I had been the first among them to experience the grace of God; and that I might be able to answer
their questions I was induced to-study the Bible continually;
and often while at work, particular passages would be opened
to my mind; which encouraged me to hope that the Lord
had called me to instruct those who were more ignorant
than myself; and when the people would collect at my
house, I explained to them those passages which had been
opened to my mind. All this time I had no instruction in
spiritual matters from any man, except the sermons which I
heard from Mr. Martin. But after a few years there came
a Baptist preacher into our neighbourhood; and I found that
his doctrine agreed. substantially with my experience, and
with what I had learned out of the Bible. I travelled about
with him, and was encouraged by him to go on in the exercise of my gift of public speaking, but was told by him that
there was one duty which I was required to perform, which
was that I should be baptized according to the command of
Christ. And as we rode along we came to a certain water,
and I said, See, here is water, what doth hinder me to be
baptized? Upon which we both went down into the water,
and he baptized me by immersion in the name of the Father,
the Son, and the Holy Ghost. From that time I have continued until this day, testifying to small and great, to white
and black, repentance towards God and faith in our Lord
Jesus Christ; and not without the pleasure of seeing many
sinners forsaking their sins and turning unto God.
"'Now,' said he,'you have heard the reasons which




JAMES SHIELBURNE.              135
induce me to believe that God has called me to preach the
Gospel to the poor and ignorant. I never considered myself
qualified to instruct men of education and learning. I have
always felt badly when such have come to hear me. But as
for people of my own class, I believed that I could teach
them many things which they need to know; and in regard
to such as had become pious, I was able, by study of the
Bible and meditation, to go before them, so that to them
also I could be in some measure a guide. I lament my
want of learning, and am deeply convinced that it is useful
to the ministry of the Gospel; but it seems to me that there
are different gifts now as of old, and one man may be suited
to one part of the Lord's work, and another to another part.
And I do not know but that poor and ignorant people can
understand my coarse and familiar language better than the
discourses of the most learned and eloquent men. I know
their method of thinking and reasoning, and how to make
things plain by illustrations and comparisons adapted to
their capacities and their habits.'
" When the old millwright had finished his narrative, I
felt much more inclined to doubt my own call to the ministry, than that of James Shelburne. Much of the night was
spent in this conversation, while my companion was enjoying
his usual repose. We talked freely about the doctrines of
religion, and were mutually gratified at finding how exactly
our views tallied. From this night James Shelburne became
an object of my high regard, and he gave abundant testimony of his esteem for me. Whenever I visited that part of
the country, he was wont to ride many miles to hear me




136                JAMES SHELBURNE.
preach, and was pleased to declare that he had never heard
any of the ministers of his own denomination with whose
opinions he could so fully agree as with mine. I had the
opportunity of hearing him preach several times, and was
pleased not only with the soundness of his doctrine, but the
unaffected simplicity of his manner. His discourses consisted of a series of judicious remarks expressed in the
plainest language, and in a conversational tone, until he became by degrees warmed with his subject, when he fell into
a singing tone, but nothing like what was common with
almost all Baptist preachers of the country at that time.
As he followed his trade from day to day, I once asked him
how he found time to study his sermons; to which he replied, that he could study better at his work, with his hammer in his hand, than if shut up and surrounded with books.
When he had passed the seventieth year of his age he gave
up work, and devoted himself entirely to preaching.  Being
a man of firm health, he travelled to a considerable distance
and preached nearly every day.  On one of these tours,
after I was settled in Charlotte County, I saw him for the
last time. The old man appeared to be full of zeal and love,
and brought the spirit of the Gospel into every family which
he visited.  He was evidently ripening for heaven, and accordingly, not long after, he finished his course with joy.
Thus I have anticipated much that relates to my old fiiend,
although his end did not occur until many years aftex
this time.":'
*See also an account of the sawe man, in the'New Orleans Protestant'
for 1846 or 1847.




JAMES HUNT.                  137
At Reedy Creek the travellers met with some persons
from whom they acquired many important facts as to the
early plantation of our church in Virginia. Distinguished
among these was Captain William Craighead, an intimate
friend of the Rev. Samuel Davies of Hanover, with whom he
served as an elder. He cordially welcomed the missionaries,
as his family and that of William Cowan, Esq., were the
only Presbyterians of the neighbourhood.  He produced a
file of letters received from President Davies after his removal
to Princeton, and said it was his custom to read them over
on a certain day in every year. From his ardour of disposition, activity, fluency of speech and religious zeal, the
Captain was well fitted to be a useful officer in the church.
In all the negotiations touching Mr. Davies's removal he bore
a prominent part, and afterwards was several times a commissioner to convey a call to other northern ministers;
among the rest to Mr. Kirkpatrick of New Jersey. After
many disappointments the Hanover people were at length
visited by the Rev. David Rice, who became their pastor.
After Mr. Rice's departure, the congregation remained many
years vacant, and the church declined more and more.
The notices respecting another old Christian of that
country aid our conceptions of the type of religion which
prevailed. This was Mr. Hunt, the father of Craighead's
second wife. He was a subject of the work of grace in
Hanover, before they had any preaching. He was old enough
to have a family around him, when the awakening began, in
consequence of finding and reading certain old books. He:emembered Mr. Robinson's visit, and gave a particular ac



138                WILLIAM COWAN.
count of the circumstances attending his arrival. He had a
notion that when a young man God had called him by name,
it is believed in Williamsburg. Sitting up till midnight he
heard a voice from above distinctly calling him, James
Hunt, James Hunt! Contrary to what is usual in such
visitations, the voice was distinctly heard by two women
who were ironing in a room near at hand. From that time
he had very serious thoughts about religion, but was ignorant of its nature, until the famous " reading " commenced at
Mr. Morris's house, in the neighbourhood of which he lived.
The genuineness and sincerity of Mr. Hunt's religion were rendered evident by a life of even, humble piety, during seventy
years. "In his ninety-second year," says Dr. Alexander,
"he read Paine's Age of Reason, not long after which I
visited him, at the house of his son Gilbert, on Staunton
River; and was struck with the remarks which he made on
that infidel perforrnance. At that time he related to me an
experience which he had had many years before.  One
morning as he arose from his bed, he had so ravishing a
view of the glory of God, that for some time he stood in
mute astonishment. And when this passed away he enjoyed for a fortnight such a peace, that he could conceive of
no greater happiness."
Another person whom the missionaries found in Lunenburg was. William Cowan, a Scotchman by birth, a lawyer
of some eminence, and a man of eminent piety. Having
come to this country when a lad, with an elder brother, he
fell in with the Methodists, exhorted in public, and was
elated with his supposed success in public speaking. He




WILLIAM COWAN.                139
used to relate that he felt sure he could produce a sermon off-hand on any text in the Bible; and that to make
a trial, he opened the book at random, and alighted on these
words, Obadiah 3, "The pride of thy heart hath deceived
thee," &c. This came home to his conscience and feelings
with a power so convincing that he fell prostrate on the
ground, and from that hour a great change was wrought in
his character, and he became an humble man for the rest of
life. When a suitable occasion offered itself he returned to
the bosom of the Presbyterian Church, in which he had been
baptized. "'Mr. Cowan," says our manuscript, "'was certainly one of the most uniformly serious men I was ever
acquainted with. In his arguments at the bar, his solemn
voice and formal manner of dividing his subject much resembled preaching. Though always grave he was not austere,
and the impression which he made on men of the world, and
especially on his associates, was exceedingly favourable,
while his profound skill in jurisprudence was universally
acknowledged. He was no orator, but in causes requiring
legal acumen and judgment, he was by many preferred to
Patrick Henry, with whom he practised in the same courts
for many years, living in habits of intimacy with that
great man. When the war was ended he was almost entirely occupied in collecting moneys due to the Scotch merchants, who had generally gone off at the commencement
of the Revolution; a business which was attended with
little difficulty after the confirmation of Jay's Treaty. But
immediately after the Revolution the payment of these
debts was resisted, and Patrick Henry, as I have been in



140                WILLIAM COWAN.
formed, never made a greater display of his extraordinary
abilities, than in a speech before the Supreme Court against
the equity of these claims; so that the British agents who
were in court said to one another,'We had better go
home, for this man, before he is done, will make us the
debtors instead of the creditors.'
"'When Mr. Cowan retired from the bar, and confined
himself to collecting the aforesaid debts, he came often into
the part of the country where I resided, and I had the opportunity of being much with him. And having observed
his solemn manner at the bar and his uniform seriousness
and devotion, I, as well as others, concluded that he ought
to become a preacher of the gospel. One day, therefore,
when riding with him from the place of worship, I ventured
to broach the subject. He said it had often been suggested
to his mind, but that after the most mature deliberation he
had come to the conclusion that it would be unwise for him
to enter the ministry. That the habits of one profession
long fixed could not be easily laid aside to assume those of
another; that he had had much to do in worldly business,
and had been obliged in the course of his profession to offend
many persons; that many were prejudiced against him on
account of his being the attorney for British merchants, to
whom almost all were indebted; and especially that he still
was concerned in cases which could not be terminated for
many years. I was much impressed with the solid weight
of these reasons.
" He was deeply sensible of the evils of slavery, and one
day said to me that there was a secret policy in the minds




BISHOP MADISON.               141
of some leading men in the state, to tax slaves very heavily,
so as by degrees to render them unprofitable; as they were
convinced that the mass of slaveholders would never consent
to emancipate them while they were profitable."
After Mr. Grigsby had preached at Reedy Creek, to a
small congregation, he and his companion were met by Capt.
Craighead, who took them to his house and entertained
them with much kindness. On the next Sabbath they went
to Lunenburg Court House, two or three miles distant,
where Bishop Madison was to preach. They heard him discourse on standing in the old paths. The objeet of this
visitation-and he made but few-was to win back the
people into the old church. The state of episcopacy in Virginia at this period may be learnt from the history of Dr.
Hawks. Captain Craighead and Mr. Cowan expressed the
opinion that there was no vitality in the body, except in the
parish of old Mr. Jarratt, of whom more will be said hereafter. In the afternoon both the young Presbyterians
preached in the Court House, to a large and attentive audience, of whom most had never heard a minister of this persuasion. The youthful appearance of the speakers attracted
much attention. In the county of Amelia they found no
Presbyterians, but were warmly entertained by an old Col.
Brooking, who, with his wife, had been accustomed in their
youth to hear Mr. Davies.  " They informed us that John
Rodgers Davies resided near them, and was frequently their
guest. Old Mrs. Brooking added, that she had once asked
him to do her a special favour, and on his consenting, informned him that she desired him to take home and read the




142               A SON OF DAVIES.
little poem which his father had written on the occasion of
his birth. He answered that he could not do it, and that
he had never perused any of his father's writings.
" Six or seven years after this, I made a tour through
the c )unties south of James River, and found that he had
removed to Sussex. The man with whom I staid, a Mr,
Chapel, a Methodist, told me that there was a Presbyterian
gentleman near him, who never attended any of their meetings, and that he was glad I had come. Mr. Chapel urged
me to preach- in the evening; and went himself to inform
Mr. Davies of the service. But he could not by all his arguments prevail on him to come. And finally, to get clear of
his importunity, he said,'If the Apostle Paul was to preach
at your house to-night, I would not go; nay, if my own
father was to preach there I would not go.' "
It deserves to be mentioned that great assemblies were
gathered to the preaching of Mr. Alexander during this visit
to Amelia. A report had been circulated that he was only
fifteen or sixteen years of age, which indeed his appearance
seemed to justify, though at this time he was nearly twenty.
From all the accounts which we have been able to obtain
during a residence in the same region nearly thirty years
ago, when many were surviving who remembered these juvenile efforts, we are induced to believe that at no period of
his ministry was the preaching of Mr. Alexander more attractive and powerful than at that very time.  With little
of that culture which he afterwards received in large measure,
he had the glow and exuberance of youth, a fuind of brilliant imagery and copious words, a magical fascination of




PETERSBURG.                 143
voice, and above all a spirituality of mind, which was the
chief endowment in the apprehension of those aged persons
who gave the report. His labours were abundant, sometimes involving successive days of preaching, at places far
apart; and they were doubtless instrumental in promoting
the growth of that Church to the service of which his whole
energy both in youth and age was consecrated.
Continuing their journey in the direction of the rivers
towards tidewater, our missionaries went next to Petersburg.
They were consigned by letter to Mr. Thomas Shore, of
Pocahontas, on the side of. the Appomatox opposite to the
town. This gentleman's father, Dr. Shore of Hanover, had
been one of Mr. Davies's elders. They took up their abode,
however, with a Mr. Dodson, who proved to be an obliging
and serious man, but unconnected with any religious body
The good man informed the young preachers that there
would be no difficulty in procuring them a place in which to
hold meetings, assuring them that they might have either
the Episcopal church, or the Methodist church in Blandford.
He accordingly agreed to go and see the principal local
preacher of the Methodists, a considerable merchant, of
whose liberality he spoke in high terms.  "It was also
agreed," says Mr. Alexander, "that Mr. Grigsby should go
to Blandford and secure the Episcopal church there, so that
each might have a place of preaching.  We thought every
thing was to go on swimmingly. After dinner we stepped
into a store in the old town, as Mr. Grigsby wanted a pair
of black silk gloves for the pulpit.  While he was chaffering
at the counter, thb, owner of the store said to me,'When




144             SEARCH FOR A PULPIT.
I saw you ride into town, I thought you were Methodist
preachers, but now I find I was mistaken; pray, to what
denomination do you belong?' On our replying, he said,'Ah! Presbyterian!' with a peculiar tone and expression
of countenance;'We have a man in town who -was once a
Presbyterian preacher, but is now a merchant; for he says
he can't sell goods and preach too.' I replied, that I thought
the man was perfectly right, as no man could fulfil the duties of the sacred office and be a merchant at the same
time. His colour rose at this, and he said, with a smarter
tone, CThen you do not agree with the Apostle Paul, for he
preached and wrought at the trade of tent making.' I
answered that I did agree with Paul, who had given solemn
directions to Timothy that ministers should give themselves
wholly to their work; and that Paul's labouring was from
necessity, and to take away all occasion of prejudice from
his enemies. Here we left the store, and on relating what
had passed to Mr. Dodson, were informed that this man was
a preacher and a leading person among the Mlethodists."
There is much naivete in the description of these first
attempts to exercise their gifts in a large town.  "On
Saturday, Mr. Grigsby proceeded to Blandford and Mr. Dodson applied to the local preacher, requesting their house at
hours which would not interfere with their worship, and
was confounded to find that it could not be had. Mr. Dodson was greatly mortifidd, as he said he and many others
who were not of their society had helped to build the house.
When Mr. Grigsby returned from Blandford, he told us he
had visited Mr. Cameron, the rector, from whom he had re



JOHN BAPTIST S SPRING.            145
ceived an unceremonious refusal. He had, however, met with
a Dr. Hull, born in Augusta and bred a Presbyterian, whc
insisted that we should dine with him the next day. I
hesitated, but thinking a private house would be more
agreeable than Mr. Dodson's boarding house, I consented.
The question as to a place of preaching was not yet satisfactorily answered. We made many inquiries, but nothing
presented itself. At length I asked Mr. D., if they never
had field-preaching about the town. He said there was a
spring about a mile off called John Baptist's Spring, because an old Baptist, a black man named John, sometimes
held forth there. I replied that this should be our preaching place; but how to give notice was the difficulty. At
length Mr, Dodson suggested that he had a smart negro
boy, who could go through the town with a bell, carrying
the notice in his hand to be read by all who might meet
him. I was much pleased with this scheme, and we prepared in a large legible hand a notice that two young Presbyterian ministers would preach at the'stand' of John the
Baptist, at four o'clock in the afternoon. Our little black was
already summoned, when information came that Mr. Prentiss, the printer, had offered for our use a large unfurnished
house in Bolingbroke Street.
" In the morning I went with Mr. Dodson to the Metlodist church, and Mr. Grigsby went to Blandford to hear
Mr. Cameron. The circuit rider who attended in Petersburg
on that occasion was no indifferent speaker. He was either
an Englishman, or had caught the swell and rotundity of
EDnglish elocution from preachers who had come over from
10




146                A DINNER PARTY.
that country. But after he had proceeded some length in
his discourse, he went out of his way to warn the people
against a set of preachers who taught that the righteousness
of Christ was imputed to the believer. He said this was a
dangerous doctrine, and before he was done called it imputed
nonsense and blasphemy. I was astonished, not being then
aware of the Methodist hostility to this doctrine. After
sermon I went over to Blandford to meet Mr. G. at Dr.
Hull's. Here I learned that Mr. Cameron also had uttered
a violent tirade against Calvinists, and warned the people
against hearing them, as he understood some preachers of
that description had come to the place. Thus were we met
with opposition on all sides.
" Soon after our arrival the company becgan to come in,
carriage after carriage. We found to our chagrin that a
large party had been invited, and as Archibald Gracie of
New-York and some other guests were late, the hour for
preaching had nearly come before we sat down. We expressed our uneasiness to the host, who said we should be
there in full time. But before we had made our way half
through the elegant dinner, which did rme no good, the hour
arrived. We unceremoniously rose from table, in the midst
of a smart thunder' shower. The rain prevented many whc
would have come, for the refusal to let us preach had excited
much feeling. The house, however, which was in a very
rough state, was well filled, and Mr. Grigsby preached a
plain, solemn and impressive sermon, on John iii. 3. Thle
people were very attentive, and an old Mr. Angus took us
cordially by the hand, and in a strong Scotch accent asked




PETERSBURG.                  147
us to go home with him, to which we agreed. He informed
us that the majority of Parson Cameron's hearers were
Scotch people, who had been brought up Presbyterians;'Yes,' he added,'and he also was brought up a Presbyterian.' Before the people were dismissed, we learned that
application had been made for the use of the Masonic Hall,
a spacious building in Blandford, but that an old lady, whc
taught a dancing school there, strongly objected, fearing lest
we should injure her craft.  But when the Master Mason
heard this, he brought the key of the Hall and delivered it
to one of our friends. The next day, therefore, I preached tc
a very large congregation in this fine room; and Mr. Grigsby
preached on the day following. During these days an earnest application was made, for one of us to remain and preach
there statedly. And if we could have staid, a Presbyterian
congregation might have been gathered fifteen years before
such an organization actually took place. But each of us
had a tour of six months before him.
"We now took our leave of Petersburg and of one
another. This last we were very reluctant to do; for we had
found that'two are better than one,' and that the plan
adopted by our Saviour was better than any other.  No
sooner had I turned my face westward, than I began to feel
solitary and dejected. Grigsby's exuberance of spirits had
previously kept me up, but now I was left to my own gloomy
forebodings of innumerable difficulties."
The name of the Reverend Devereux Jarratt is well
known by all the friends of evangelical religion in Virginia,
where he shone is a light in a dark place, during a season




148              DEVEREUX JARRATT.
when the Episcopal Church had few to declare the gospel in
its simplicity. Having heard much of his piety and eloquence, Mr. Alexander determined to spend the next Sabbath with him. The good old man had lately attended the
diocesan convention at Richmond, and had preached a pungent and faithful discourse, which was then fresh from the
press. He was found in his spacious old-fashioned house, in
the midst of a large plantation, without children, but surrounded by sleek, happy-looking servants. " But I confess,"
says the narrative, "I was much better pleased with Mrs,
Jarratt. There was so much of sweetness and kindness in
this old lady, that I have seldom  seen the like.  Mrs.
Grammar, of Petersburg, known to me long afterwards, was
in affability, goodness, and Christian courtesy the, exact
resemblance of Mrs. Jarratt. Indeed, she was brought up
under her tuition, and her son now occupies Mr. Jarratt's
place in the parish of Bath. The old gentleman seemed at
first reserved and austere. I was a perfect stranger to him,
very young, and younger in appearance than in reality, and
as far as I remember, brought no introductory letters; they
were less common in those days than now. He did not
leave his study to keep me company, but left the good lady
to attend on me, which she did in a manner that could not
but be most soothing to the heart of a stranger, much disposed to melancholy thoughts. After a little, however, Mr.
Jarratt began to unbend; and the first thing he did was to
examine me on the Evidences of Christianity, and to get
something of my history, and of my purpose in visiting that
part of the country. Finding me not altogether ignorant;




DE EREUX JARRATT.                149
he proceeded to converse with me freely. He related a controversy which he had had the week before with the Methodist Presiding Elder of the district; in the course of which
the latter asked in regard to something which he had
asserted,'How should you know any better than I?''Because,' answered Mr. Jarratt,'I had read more books before
you were born, than you have done in your whole life.'
"He said his parish was much reduced, and that the
state of religion was very low; but he described scenes of
a truly animating kind which had been witnessed there.
When he first preached there, as the people were gay and
careless, he prepared a few flowery discourses, ad ccaptandum,
and brought out but little of the gospel plainly. This he
justified by the case of Paul, who became all things to all
men. But it was a doubtful expedient, and an experiment
replete with danger. As to his own church, he knew but
one man in the ministry whom he regarded as an experimental Christian; this was a Mr. Ball. But as he has
published an account of his own life, which is a curious
picture of manners in Virginia at that period, I will not
attempt to sketch his character. His zeal, together with a
voice of great power and melody, carried him forward and
raised him high as a preacher; and as he and Mr. McRoberts were the only two who zealously preached the gospel
in the church as by law established, their prominence was
marked.  Some years afterwards I heard him preach at
Hampden Sidney College; the sermon was evangelical and
fervent, without signs of care in the preparation, and his
voice was then broken. A good idea of his labours may be




150           NOTTOWAY-MECKLENBURG.
obtained from his printed sermons. His theological opin.
ions, as he informed me, were in conformity with those of
Richard Baxter, except that he held, and in several publications endeavoured to maintain, the possibility of attaining
sinless perfection in this life."
The path marked out for Mr. Alexander lay in the
direction of the North Carolina border. From Petersburg,
therefore, he retraced his steps through the counties of
Amelia, Nottoway, and Lunenburg, where he fulfilled engagements made in the former visit. He then entered Miecklenburg, where the Rev. Mr. Patillo was accustomed to preach
once in the month. Here the Methodists had enjoyed much
success for a time. A lady is remembered, who a few years
before had made much noise. Such was her zeal and en.
thusiasm, that she spoke and exhorted in public assemblies,
even when a number of preachers were present. Her figure
was commanding, and her address won public admiration.
The young missionary here records a misadventure not uncommon in such itinerations; his horse escaped, and was
missing for some days. In this great embarrassment, his
gloomy thoughts were dispelled by a discourse which he
casually opened upon in a friend's house, on the words,' Shall we receive good at the hands of the Lord, and shall
we not receive evil? " It was in Bennet's Oratory, a work
gn Prayer, for which he always retained a strong attachment.
At the Blue Stone Meeting-House, he first fell in with
the Rev. Henry Patillo, who had come over from Granville
County in Carolina, to administer the Lord's Supper; and
of whom he gives the following notices. Mr. Patillo was




]MR. PATILLO.                151
born in Scotland, and was brought to this country by an
elder brother, when only nine years old. While yet a young
man, he became acquainted with Mr. Davies, and having experienced the power of grace he entered on studies preparatory to the ministry, receiving aid from some persons of
benevolence. But his chief resource was in his own labours as
a teacher, by which he was enabled to sustain himself. In
due time he was licensed by the Presbytery of Hanover, at
that time the only one in Virginia. This was probably
about the year 1760. For some years he preached in Cumberland, Prince Edward, and Charlotte; but on receiving an
invitation to North Carolina, he removed to Granville County, and had for his charge the congregations of Grassy
Creek and Nutbush, with which he remained till the close
of his life.
M3r. Patillo was above the middle size, of robust constitution and uninterrupted health. His aspect was benevolent,
and his manners were simple and affectionate. He was
free from envy and jealousy, and even in old age had no
austerity or moroseness.  He was especially affable with
young ministers, delighting in their gifts, for which he gave
thanks to God. The most untutored and the youngest were
perfectly at ease in his company; as he seemed to esteem
himself the least of all God's servants. Yet he was an incessant reader, and remembered almost all that he read. In
the pulpit, he was plain and practical; but it was evident
that much pains had been bestowed on his discourses. His
voice was commanding, and he was generally heard with
attention. His disposition was so contented, that nothing




152                  MR. PATILLO,
seemed to disturb the serenity of his mind. As far as wa,
possible for the head of a family, he divested himself of all
worldly cares. He was always poor, and used to express his
thankfulness to God for having kept him entirely exempt
from the snares of wealth. The only kind of property on
which he set much value, was books. He had a great avidity for learning, rather than for accumulating a fine library;
but was generous in parting with his treasures to those who
needed them more than he. "Until this period of my life,')
says Mr. Alexander, "I had never seen a Hebrew Bible, or
any other Hebrew book; and some time after this, having
found a mutilated copy among the relics of old Robert
Henry's books in Charlotte, I begged it of the family, and
then travelled into North Carolina, to procure a Bythner's
Lyra Prophetica, from old Mr. Patillo." On a certain occasion, while Mr. Patillo was absent, his house was constumed
by fire.  On his return, he exclaimed to his wife, "0  my
dear, are my books safe?" And on being assured that they
were, he devoutly praised God.
Late in life, Mr. Patillo became an author. His principal
work was an abridgment of Leland's Deistical Writers; a
very seasonable production, at a time when French infidelity
was rife. The other was a series of plain sermons. A note
appended to one of these, broached the same doctrine concerning Christ's human nature, which has since been so
offensively taught by the famous Edward Irving. It will
cast light on the ministerial life of those days, here to insert
a statement of Dr. Alexander's, though out of its chronological place.  "While I was minister in Charlotte, the old




RELIGIOUS FRIENDS.              153
gentleman came once to pay his last visit to his friends in
Virginia. I made a string of appointments for him, reaching
from Cub Creek to Cumberland, and accompanied him the
whole round. It was previously suggested to a few as we
passed from place to place, that it would be well to make a
contribution, to aid the aged servant of God. When we
had finished our tour, I had in my saddle-bags about thirty
dollars, which the people had freely given. As I handed
him the silver coin (for we had then never seen a banknote), the good old man appeared to be penetrated with
gratitude." Mr. Patillo is supposed to have been more than
seventy years of age at the time of his death.
Among the early settlements of Presbyterianism in this
region, Mr. Alexander occasionally found persons of character
so marked, as to deserve a passing notice. He names a Mr.
John Young, a warm friend of Mr. Patillo, and a person of
plain unassuming manners, who was remarkable, in years of
scarcity, for selling corn at a uniform price, even when it
would bring twice as much in the market. Col. Smith was
another leading Presbyterian of the same neighbourhood,
who had a daughter of extraordinary knowledge and piety.
The personal narrative says of her: "She understood the
Calvinistic doctrines better than any woman I ever saw. I
have spent days in conversation on theological points with
Polly Smith. Her religion was not merely theoretical, but
deeply practical. She was a truly devout and humble person. She became the wife of the Rev. William Williamson,
of Ohio."  Chesley Daniel and an old Mr. Lewis, are
aLAo mentioned as pious friends of this period. The only




154               MISSIONARY WORK.
contemporary journal of this tour which remains to us, is a
fragment of just six pages; which nevertheless contains two
somewhat interesting entries. " Tuesday, August 7, 1792. I
preached at Sandy River. The house was very full of people,
who seemed desirous to hear. I don't remember that any to
whom I have preached since I was on my tour, were apparently more affected than these." " Thursday, Aug. 30. I
preached at Chestnut Meeting-House, to a small congregation. In the time of sermon, the people appeared to be
impressed, and to drink in the Word with greediness. I
therefore continued my discourse for nearly two hours, and
then dismissed the congregation. I sat in the pulpit about
fifteen minutes, but no person in the house offered to go
away. After some time I arose and told the people, that as
they were not disposed to leave the house of God, their
meditations might be assisted by singing a hymn; after
which I again spoke about three quarters of an hour. There
were few individuals in the house who did not appear
deeply affected."
From  the borders of North Carolina, Mr. Alexander
returned by the way of Charlotte, in Virginia. In fulfilling
his appointments, it is believed in Mecklenburg, he met with
the following interesting occurrence; "A young man named
William Boyd was afraid to come into the house of worship, lest he should be seized with religious impressions; but
feeling a strong curiosity to hear the young preacher, he
at length returned and took a seat near the door, that he
might go out immediately if any thing touched him. Though
the bow was drawn at venture, the arrow took effect; he




PRESIDENT WADDEL.               155
went home under strong convictions and was soon hopefully
converted, and at an early age became an elder in the
church. This account I received from his own mouth. He
was a man of a tender and gentle spirit." In Charlotte, he
fell in with Moses Waddel, afterwards the Rev. Dr. Waddel
of Georgia, but then a tutor at Hampden Sidney College.




CHAPTER EIGHTH.
1792-1797.
PRINCE EI)WARD AND CTIAELOTTE-EARLY PREACIIERS-MEI. ROBI.NSONMR. HENRY-PROGRESS IN LEARNING-SMITH' S RIVER-PASTORAL SETTLEMENT-MODE OF PREACHING-PATRICK HENRY AND JOHN RANDOLPII-HAMPDEN SIDNEY COLLEGE-JOHN H. RICE-CONRAD SPEECEPRESIDENTSHIP OF TIIE COLLEGE.
THE part of Virginia with which our narrative must now
for some time  be concerned, is highly interesting to
those who wish to study Southern institutions in their connection with Christianity.  There is no portion of the State
or country where the bright side of the planter's life is
more agreeably exhibited. The district has always been remarkable for its adaptation to the culture of a particular
variety of tobacco which usually commands high prices, and
it has therefore abounded in slaves.  Although the estates
are less extensive than in the cotton districts of the remoter
South, the proprietors enjoy the comforts and luxuries of life
in a high degree, and almost every family has some man of
liberal education within its bosom.  IHospitality and genial
warmth may be said to be universal. Nowhere in the South




MR. ROBINSON.                 157
has the Presbyterian Church had greater strength among
the wealthy and cultivated classes. It was to be for a long
time the theatre of Mr. Alexander's labours; and through.
out life he looked back on these as halcyon days. Some of
the reminiscences gathered by him in his excursions from
persons long since dead must find a place in these pages.
The Rev. Mr. Robinson, one of the pioneersvof Virginia,
preached in the Caldwell settlement on Cub Creek, in the
county of Charlotte. It was a small colony of Scotch-Irish
Presbyterians.  Among the first ministers settled in Virginia, after Mr. Davies, was the Rev. Robert Henry, who was
pastor of this church on Cub Creek. He was a pious but
blunt man, whose natural passions were strong and not altogether disciplined. His preaching was unpolished but warm
and evangelical. It should never be forgotten that like Davies he laboured faithfully for the salvation of the negroes,
many of whom were converted under his preaching. The
number of black communicants in this church was greater
than in any within our bounds; and in general these converts maintained a consistent Christian character. Even at
this moment the fruits of these labours are apparent. From
the time of Mr. Henry the names of black communicants
exceeded those of the whites, and were probably more than
a hundred.
Some characteristic anecdotes of Mr. Henry are recorded
in the manuscripts before us. On his way to Briery Meeting-House, where he regularly preached once a fortnight,
he was accustomed to lodge at Mr. Morton's, near the Little
Roanoke bridge. It was his manner, on turning into the




158                  MR. HENRY.
forest through which the road lay, to throw the reins upor.
the neck of his horse, and to engage in prayer aloud. On
one occasion he was so absorbed in this exercise, that the
horse reached the door before Mr. Henry had ended his devotions. Such was his absence of mind that he sometimes
mistook his own horse on coming from the place of worship.
Mr. Henry was a native of Scotland, but his name
appears among the early graduates of Princeton, in 1751.
At that time all who had not taken regular degrees elsewhere were required by their Presbyteries to pass through
the College of New Jersey.
"The Hebrew Bible," says the narrative, "which I
found among the old books in the house of Mr. Henry's
widow, I brought with me to Philadelphia. Having there
obtained one more complete, I transferred this to Mr. Belleville, then a student, who with a pen very neatly supplied
the chapters which were wanting. Since the establishment
of the Seminary, this very volume has come in as a present,
and may be seen in the library. I found here also several
books of Latin theology, but all much injured.  Among
them was Chemnitius's ETxamen Goncilii Tridentini, from
which I derived my first accurate knowledge of the Romish
tenets.
The Rev. William Robinson, already mentioned as the
first preacher in the Caldwell Settlement, came from the
Presbytery of New Brunswick. He formed the purpose of
visiting all the scattered Presbyterians in Virginia and North
Carolina, and as many others as might be willing to hear.
When he first arrived in these parts great joy was felt by




AUSTIN.                    159
the pious settlers. A stand, or tent (fbr both names were
used), was made ready, and notice was sent round in all
directions that a preacher had come from the North.
"Among others one Austin, a half-breed Indian, was called
upon. This man was notorious for violence of temper, a
quarrelsome disposition, and shocking profaneness. His wife
expressed some desire to go to the meeting, which he swore
she should not do. But he nevertheless went himself, and
not intending to hear any thing lay down on some leaves,
near the outskirts of the large congregation. Here he was
apparently slumbering, when the preacher announced his
text,'Awake thou that sleepest!' The words conveyed a
barbed arrow  to Austin's conscience. In a moment he
started to his feet, and fixed his eyes on the speaker, gradually advancing towards the stand, until towards the close of
the discourse he was standing near Mr. Robinson's feet,
gazing into his face, while streams of tears ran down his
tawny cheeks. After sermon he returned home in silence.
He appeared to be in great agony of mind, so that his wife
was in excessive terror. At night, instead of going early to
bed, as was his custom, he walked to and fro before his
house until midnight; when unable any longer to conceal
his distress, he came into the house, and declared that he
was an undone sinner, and that he had heard that day
things which had never come to his ears before. For a day
or two this distress continued, and then he obtained relief
by as clear views of the Gospel as he had previously had of
the Iaw. This profane and violent man was become as
meek as a lamb. To this account I received some additions




160                BAPTIST COUNCIL.
fiom old Mrs. Morton, of Little Roanoke Bridge, who said
she had often conversed with Mr. Davies, Dr. Waddel, Dr.
Smith, and many other eminent ministers, but with none
from whom she received so much edification as from Austin.
When persons were in distress about their salvation, it was
common to send for him; and in one case he had been summoned to go thirty miles into Lunenburg."
These journeys of Gospel service were not without their
crosses. Mr. Alexander speaks of preaching at Tomahawk
in Pittsylvania, while racked with toothache, and then riding
seventeen miles in the rain, without an umbrella. At this
time he had apppointments to preach almost every day for
many weeks. In some places the avidity of the people to
hear the Word was such, that he speaks of having preached
" night and day for a good part of a week."  He penetrated
into Henry County, preaching on his way at Leatherwood,
in the house where Patrick Henry lived several years after
leaving Prince Edward. In his later years Dr. Alexandel
used to relate with much animation his meeting, in this
county, with several pious but illiterate Baptist preachers, by
whom he was very cordially received. They marvelled at
the pocket Greek Testament in which he read, and invited
him to a council of ministers. " The affair, however, was not
ready for the trial, and Father Anthony, the pastor, went
round to the clergy present, offering each one his small Bible,
to go up into the pulpit and preach; but all refused. Upon
which the old gentleman said,' Brethren, if none of you will
consent, I will preach myself, and my text shall be concerning that wicked and slothful servant who would not do his




SMITH S RIVER.                161
Lord's work. I know why you are all unwilling; it is because so few are out. But I tell you there are more here
than you will be able to convert. The best sermon I ever
preached was to two persons; and by the blessing of God
they were both converted.' After this pithy little concio ad
clerum, he approached one of them, saying,'Brother Hall,
preach;' and the other without a word of excuse ascended
the pulpit, and gave us a very passable sermon."
The country into which his mission now took him is eminently picturesque.  "Smith's River," to use his own words,
" rises in the Blue Ridge, and its head spring is very near
the head spring of New River, which falls into the Ohio, as
Smith's does into the Roanoke. The mountain range at this
place sinks low, and is cultivated on both sides nearly to the
top. On the eastern side there is a beautiful cove of tableland, where a number of mountain streams come together
and form Smith's River. The soil along these waters is exceedingly fertile, and the land lying low and sheltered on all
sides by mountains, enjoys a very temperate climate in winter.
Except over the Blue Ridge, there is but one way into the
settlement which is practicable for wheels, and this winds so
much that for twelve or thirteen miles there were no habitations on the road. Along this way I entered from old Mrs.
Houston's, where I had lodged. The leading man in this
settlement was one Squire Pilson. He had been a Presbyterian elder for eighteen years, without knowing any thing
experimentally of religion, until Mr. Mitchell and Mr. Turner,
from Bedford, made a preaching visit to this sequestered
qpot. IIe was then remarkably converted. He took every
11




162              A MOUNTAIN NOOK.
opportunity of making religious addresses to his neighbours,
and was always greatly rejoiced to see any minister arrive,
hoping that a blessing would attend his labours. Books were
rare in this nook of the mountains. He had fallen upon
Gregory's Legacy to his Daughter, and invited some of his
neighbours to come to his house and hear it read. This
meeting took place the day after my arrival. He read the
book through, and in so doing shed many tears."
Dr. Alexander was often heard to describe the odd appearance of the women in this out-of-the-way place. Having
little intercourse with the rest of the world, they cut their
dresses after the exact pattern which their grandmothers
brought with them. Mr. Pilson had been with his wagon to
Petersburg, and had brought his daughter a beautiful piece
of changeable silk. This she made up after the fashion
aforesaid, with cuffs upon cuffs, reaching almost to the
ground, a stomacher broad at the top and tapering downward to a point, with ribbons crossing each other very elaborately.
Among these secluded people he preached a number of
times. But even here there were religious animosities, which
operated as hinderances to the truth. One of the principal
men was a bigoted opponent of Watts's Psalms. He had
gone to hear the Reverend William Calhoon, and had contended with him on this subject; so that when the next
itinerant missionary came, he would not go to hear him.
From  Smith's River lMr. Alexander went into Franklin
County,.where there was a small place of worship, called, it
is believed, Wood's Meeting-House. But as he had now




FAMILY WORSHIP.                163
traversed all the counties included in his commission, and
as the Virginia Synod was soon to meet, he prepared to go
homeward. Mr. Calhoon, afterwards a connection by marriage, here became his companion. They crossed the Blue
Ridge at one of its lowest passes.  The record of these
events takes notice of a mountain spring of uncommon
beauty. "It boiled up in the midst of clear white sand,
which it threw up in a jet, and covered a considerable circular space. The outlet was like a mill-tail, and within less
than two hundred yards of the fountain, two mills were
turned by the water." The travellers were very desirous to
overtake Mr. Matthew Lyle, who, as they learned, was before them; they therefore pushed on to Fincastle. Here
they met with an experience which is not without its instruction.
" We put up at the principal inn, and the people appeared civil enough, and the house was quiet; but we were
scarcely seated before a great company of gentlefolks arrived
from the Sweet Springs. The house was soon full of noise
and confusion; for these persons affirmed that they had
that day crossed no less than seven mountains; they were
accordingly fatigued, hungry, and out of humour. In those
days it was customary for the preachers in Virginia to have
worship wherever they stopped for the night. On this occasion I was in favour of dispensing with the service, as we
could hear the noise and profaneness of the new-comers.
But Mr. Calhoon, always one of the most conscientious men,
insisted that we should do our duty, and inquired of the
host whether he would have any objection to our holding




164                  INNKEEPERS.
family worship with him and his guests. But no sooner was
it mentioned to the visitors than the whole house was in
uproar; some calling for candles, and some for slippers, till
the whole of a large company of gentlemen scampered off to
bed, to escape the infliction of a prayer. The tavern-keeper,
however, brought in his wife, and Mr. Calhoon, who officiated, vociferated so loudly, that no one in any part of the
building, or of the neighbouring houses, could fail to hear
him. I felt uncomfortable, and was led to think that this
method of forcing prayers on irreligious people could do no
good."
The analogy of the subject leads us here to introduce a
couple of anecdotes, which he used to tell with much enjoyment; we are able to give almost his very words, but the
charm of his narrative must be supplied by those who remember the humorous vivacity of his manner.  "In travelling to the north," said he, "I lodged in a large and
pleasant public-house at Elkton. There was no company,
and the host appeared serious and intelligent. We conversed all the evening on the subject of religion. I did not
tell him that I was a clergyman, but supposed that he would
infer it. When it drew near bed-time, I said to him, in as
gentle a manner as possible,'Have you any objection to
having prayers in your house?' Ite was much confiused,
and after stammering a little, replied,'You must excuse
me-you must excuse me; I live here in a public way-but
I hope I do not forget the proper reflections when I lie down
at night.' I was astonished, both at his refusal and his
reasons; and it was not until I was in bed that the true




PRAYER IN A TAVERN.              165
state of the case flashed upon my mind. Recalling the form
of my request, I perceived that he thought I was asking him
to officiate in family worship. When I went to the bar to
pay my reckoning, he was reserved and distant; no doubt
thinking me an impudent fellow, who wanted to set him
a-praying in his own tavern."
The other story is a kindred one. "Once when I was
going," said he, "from the Northern Neck to Richmond,
the sun went down as I approached a tavern well known as
the Piping Tree. Finding no company, and seeing many
servants about the house, I felt it to be a duty to ask the
privilege of praying in the family.  The innkeeper was
quite an old man, of hoary head, and yet as thoughtless of
religion as a child. He said he belonged to the old English
church; but that it had now gone down. He spoke of
abundance of Baptists and Methodists in the neighbourhood; and against the latter his feelings were much aroused.
I requested him to call in his family, saying I should like to
pray with them.'Bless you,' said he,'I have no family;
I have had the misfortune to have two wives, and have lost
them both.' I replied that there were numerous servants,
and that their souls were precious.'To be sure-to be
sure!' said he, and began to call in one and another, so that
the room was soon pretty well filled. I said something to
them, and offered a prayer.  A large, fine-looking black
man remained to take my boots and show me to bed. But
before we left the room my host approached the negro with
a threatening countenance, and began to berate him for
being a Methodist.'There,' said he'there now's a prayer




166               CLOSE OF MISSION.
for you!:Did you ever hear a Methodist make a prayer
like thaLt? No, you black fool, you never did-you never
did.' I was really afraid he would make an assault on my
poor attendant, who however got off with me to my chamber, where I talked with him, and found him to all appearance an humble, pious man."
Returning to our narrative we have to record, that the
next day they joined Mr. Lyle, and went to the house of the
Rev. Edward Crawford, the only Presbyterian minister in
Botetourt County. He was a native of the Valley, and a
graduate of Princeton, in the year 1775. Thence they went
to the Pastures, to the celebration of the Lord's Supper, in
the (church of the Rev. John Montgomery. This good man
had a gift of pleasing eloquence, and was settled in a field
of much extent, where, however, he seems to have had small
success. This was the last stage of our young missionary
before reaching his native place, where he arrived with
greatly improved health, after a tour of six months, in
which he had visited the counties of Amherst, Rockingham,
Prince Edward, Charlotte, Lunenburg, Nottoway, Amelia,
Dinwiddie, Prince George, Mecklenburg, Halifax, Pittsylvania, Patrick, Henry, Franklin, and Botetourt, in Virginia,
and of Granville, Wake, and some others in North Carolina.
After making his report to the Commission of Synod, he
was directed to return at once to Lunenburg and Nottoway,
with permission to spend a few weeks in Prince Edward.
On arriving in Nottoway he found the appearances less
favourable than on the previous visit. After passing a few
weeks there, he therefore proceeded again along his former




PASTORAL SETTLEMENT.             167
track. with events very similar to those which have been
recited.
It has been already stated that the Rev. John Blair
Smith had accepted a call to Philadelphia.  Upon this the
congregations of Briery and Cumberland, together with the
Trustees of Hampden Sidney College, invited Mr. Graham
to take charge of both the college and churches. The call
was unsuccessful, and the attention of the people was at
once turned to Mr. Alexander. All the Presbyterian congregations in that part of the county were vacant, namely,
Cumberland, including the College, Briery, Buffalo, and Cub
Creek, including Charlotte Court House. Mr. Lacy was a
regular supply for the two first named. After consultation
it was determined that all these churches should unite in
calling two ministers, who should serve them in rotation.
The number of preaching places was six, and the persons
designated were Mr. Lacy and Mr. Alexander, who both
signified their acceptance.  They immediately entered on
their laborious circuit, the field being not less than sixty
miles in length and thirty in breadth, distances which they
were to traverse on horseback.
Although Mr. Alexander was induced to take a pastoral
charge so early, from a desire to pursue theological study, he
now found that he must spend most of his days in the saddle.
The plan was moreover found to be unsatisfactory to the
people, who were too far removed from their pastors.  It
was therefore agreed that a division of the parochial diocese
should take place; in pursuance of which, Mr. Alexander
received for his share the churches of Briery and Cub Creek.




168                 MRS. LEGRAND.
His residence was in the county of Charlotte, at the house
of Major Edmund Read. And by a remarkable coincidence,
one of his sons, when first settled in the ministry, dwelt in
the same house thirty years afterwards, and enjoyed the
hospitality of the same Christian lady, Paulina LeGrand,
formerly Mrs. Read. Here, at the mansion still known as Retirement, about two miles from the Court House, Mr. Alexander resided three or four years. The lofty oaks under which he
walked and sat still remain, among the noblest of their kind,
and when we last saw the place, a small separate house
used by him as a study, was yet standing.
Mrs. Read, afterwards Mrs. LeGrand, was widely known
and honoured among Christians of every name in Virginia.
It is probable that no house in the land ever opened its
doors to more ministers of the Gospel. A whole Presbytery
was sometimes sheltered under her roof. Her wealth was
largely dispensed in acts of charity. Though of a desponding
turn as to her own spiritual state, she was perpetually occupied with religious thoughts and employments, and was a
devoted hearer of the word. Having been recently brought
to the knowledge of evangelical truth, she was at this time
full of zeal, and unwearied in her endeavours to second all
Gospel labours. Her recollections of Mr. Alexander and his
youthful ministry were lively and affectionate. She loved to
expatiate on his ardent piety and acceptable preaching.
From her representations, it would appear that at this period
of his life, he was burning with desire to save the souls of
men, and frequent in his personal addresses to all who were
accessible on this all-important subject. While in her house,




PASTORAL CARES.                169
he redeemed much time for study, and though his discourses
were extemporaneous, he sometimes wrote them  out with
much care after delivery. We have seen in the hands of
Mrs. LeGrand, a manuscript volume containing nine sermons,
thus written in a fair and beautiful hand.  They were reinarkable for the same simple perspicuity which characterized
whatever proceeded from his pen. This volume, after some
effort, we have not been able to recover, though we have a
few scattered discourses of the same period.  The date of
his ordination and installation was May 5, 1795.
Some of the anxieties of a young pastor, overburdened
by the greatness of an unaccustomed charge, may be discovered in the following narrative.  "As the chief reason
for the division just mentioned was the desire expressed
by many, that they might have pastoral visits, and an
opportunity of knowing their minister, I determined to begin
a regular course of this kind. I accordingly went to Col.
Charles Allen, the elder who lived furthest east, and gained
his consent to go with mne through that section of the congregation, beginning with old Mr. Redd's, on Bush River, as
the remotest house. We arrived pretty early in the day.
The old gentleman was out in a distant part of his estate,
where the hands were clearing ground, but was sent for by
his wife. Although we told her that we came not to dine,
she gave no heed, but set all around her in motion to prepare viands. The chickens were chased in all directions, fires
were kindled, closets. were searched, and I soon found that
we should scarcely be able to get away. After some time,
the old gentleman came in; but before he could be seen he




170                A FAMILY VISIT.
must shave his beard and put on some clean clothes. We
now repeated our wish to see the family collected, but the
mistress and her maids were now in the act of preparing a
fat turkey for the spit. For hours we had none to converse
with but the master of the house, and conversation with
this old tobacco planter was not easy. He seemed like one
sitting on nettles.  I informed him  of the object of our
visit.-' Very good.-Very glad to see the parson.-Live so
far from church that I can seldom get there.' At length he
thought he would use his privilege of asking a question.
And that which he propounded was about the meaning of
that passage, where it is said that seven women should take
hold of one man. I was obliged to tell him that I did not
know, intilnating that the knowledge of this was not essential to salvation.' Very true,' said he;'but I have thought
it might refer to our times, when so many men have been
killed in the French Revolution, and in the consequent
wars.' Late in the day the table was spread with an enormous dinner. By the time this was concluded, a thunderstorm  burst over us, and detained us until near sunset.
Thus a whole day was wasted in visiting one family, and that
without the least benefit. I found that among a people so
widely scattered, and unaccustomed to such a thing, no
progress could be made in this way. I adopted the method
of preaching in different parts of the bounds, in private
houses.  But here a mischievous custom existed.  After
worship was over, as many as thirty persons would sometimes stay to dine. This was by invitation of the family,
and to some must have been a heavy tax.   But the old




SI UDY OF SERMONS.              171
Virginians never count the cost of dinners, even when they
give very little for the support of the Gospel."
The habits of preaching which marked the whole ministerial life of Dr. Alexander were formed during this period;
and he mav be considered the best witness as to his own
methods.  "While itinerating," says he, "I studied my
sermons in my mind; and seldom preached without intense
application of my thoughts to the subject beforehand. Texts
of Scripture would often open to my view, and these I would
seize upon for discourses. The necessity of thus composing
in the evening and morning where I lodged, or as I rode
along the way, proved a good discipline, as it accustomed
me to close thinking and to going over and over the same
train of thought. I was, however, often greatly disappointed
and mortified; for when I had great freedom in premeditation
I naturally expected the same in preaching. But this was
sometimes far from being the case. On some occasions a
text would strike my mind shortly before speaking, accompanied with a strong aversion to the subject proposed. I
commonly ventured on the new topic, and in such cases
almost always had better success than usual. Not unfrequently, while I was preaching, my subject would present
itself in new lights, much more favourable than preceding
ones, so that I have often changed my whole plan of treatment. Though the thought was often suggested to me,'that is very good,' yet when I was done I was greatly humbled, and sometimes so discouraged as to feel as if I could
never venture into the pulpit again. I have commonly felt
that the people who admired my preaching were deceived."




172             MANNER OF PREACHING.
From following a premeditated train of thought, he fell
into a habit of fixing his eyes on the floor, which was a
great hinderance. In later years no man could be more free
from any such fault; as all his hearers will remember the
piercing look with which he was accustomed to single out
individuals in the congregation. In reference to this early
period, he describes his own preaching as occupied much with
Christian experience. When his text was figurative, he
usually carried the imagery through the whole discourse.
He allowed himself a license of accommodation which his
later judgment disapproved. The parables were favourite
themes. The excessive rapidity of his utterance sometimes
exhausted his natural fervour before he had arrived at the
application.  But while he speaks thus humbly of his own
performances, it is certain from the testimony of others, that
his popularity was unbounded, and that he already ranked
in public estimation among the first preachers in the country.
In his manuscript record he turns aside from time to
time to speak of his private friends, some of whom were
eminent in the church. Among these a place is justly given
to the Rev. Samuel Brown, who was now one of his fellowlabourers. Mr. Brown was a native of Bedford, and a subject of the revival already mentioned.  "He began his
classical course after he was grown, and was hurried in his
studies. But his original mind was constantly employed in
thinkincg out difficult points in theology; so that by the
time he was through his course he was in many respects a
profound theologian. His religion was of the best kind;
deep, lively, and Scriptural. HIe became early attached to




SAMUEL BROWN.                  173
the writings of President Edwards; and this both encouraged
and directed him in his investigations. Indeed he always appeared to me to have a mind much like that of Edwards; not
remarkable for quickness, but profound and sure, and free
from the aberrations to which men of greater vivacity are
subject. Whatever he read seemed to be merely the occasion of opening new trains of thought to his own mind.
He possessed great ardour and generosity, and was susceptible of the strongest attachments of friendship; indeed all
his affections were of uncommon vigour. If he had possessed
advantages of person and voice, he would have exceeded as
a preacher all that I ever heard. Though he had a fine eye,
deeply sunk in its orbit, and much benignity of countenance,
his face was plain, with a slight distortion of the mouth, and
a certain efflorescence over the cheek bones which was unsightly. Nevertheless he was a clear, original, powerful and
often eloquent preacher. Even his voice became forcible and
penetrating, when toned by strong feeling; and he succeeded
in communicating to his hearers the elevation of his sentiments and the benevolence of his feelings. Sometimes, indeed, when his mind was not roused, his preaching was indifferent; but on occasions which called forth his powers, or
when his pious feelings were in lively exercise, his performances were certainly among the best I ever heard.  He
excelled in apt illustration, and was thus able to render
abstract truth plain to men of common minds.
"Mr. Brown accepted a call to the church of New
Providence, west of the Blue Ridge. He had a turn for
business, both mechanical and agricultural, and finding hi4




174                SAMUEL BROWN.
family increasing around him he devoted himself with muck
ardour to secular pursuits; so that for some years his improvement was not equal to what might have been expected
from his talents. As far as is known to me he never published any thing.  His most elaborate trains of thought
were studied without a word being committed to paper.
Mr. Brown felt a deep interest in all that related to the
welfare of his country, and therefore, without being a politician, entered warmly into those views which he believed to
be dictated by sound policy. He patronized with zeal the
College of Washington, of which he was a trustee at the
time of his death.
"The close of this good man's life was somewhat
remarkable. He had sold the farm on which he first settled, and bought another, larger and better situated, on
which he was engaged in erecting a commodious dwellinghouse. As he was dextrous in the use of tools, he often put
to his hand to help forward the work. One day, some exertion being required to remove some timbers, he turned
in, and while thus engaged suddenly complained of being
sick, sunk down, and expired in a few minutes, in the
very prime of life. His successor, the Rev. Mr. Morrison,
married his only daughter. Five of his sons are now ministers of the Gospel, and the sixth has received a liberal
education, and is I believe a communicant in the church."
The connection of Mr. Alexander with a number of congregations, sometimes as a temporary supply and sometimes
as pastor, leads to so much confusion, that we prefer to
throw together the several dates, as collected by the Rev




HOUSTON THE SHAKER.               175
Dr. Foote. It appears, then, that he presented his testimonials to the Presbytery of Hanover, November 8, 1793, at
which time he received calls to become collegiate pastor with
M.Ir. Lacy of Cumberland, Briery, Buffalo and Cub Creek;
which calls he did not accept. On October 22, 1794, he
received calls from Cub Creek and Briery. He was ordained
at Briery, June 7, 1794, and was dismissed from Cub Creek,
April 11, 1797, and from Briery, November 16, 1798. He
took his seat as President, May 31, 1797.
Being now established in a charge, it was natural for him
to desire that some of his early associates should be near
him. After a disappointment in regard to Mr. Brown's settling in Mecklenburg, he turned his attention  to  Mr.
Matthew Houston, as a friend remarkable for his free and
pleasant temper.  Houston had been a student at the
Liberty Hall Academy. He was frequently under religious
concern, and amidst impressions received during the revival
made a profession of his faith, though without pungent
tonvictions or any strongly marked exercises.  He had a
vein of wit, and fell into levities which attracted attention.
With moderate talents, but warm feelings, he spoke with
fluency and acceptance.  Houston received an appointment
to be a missionary for six months in MIecklenburg. But his
frivolity alienated the more serious of his people, and his
animated and shallow preaching had little effect. He removed to Kentucky, where he became popular. About the
year 1800, a great awakening spread like wildfire through
Kentucky, and Houston being a combustible material was
soon ignited. His mind became bewildered and deeply in



176            PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE.
fected with the prevalent enthusiasm; until, in 1801, hli
and his wife and a number of his people were so infatuated am
to join the people called Shakers. Both church and congregation were hereby broken up. At first a society of these
fanatics was formed in the immediate neighbourhood; but
they all soon removed to Ohio, where for many years he was
the presiding elder at Lebanon. Wihen he was just seventy
years of age, he sent to Dr. Alexander, then of Princeton, a
copy of the Shaker Testimony, accompanied with a short
note, in which lie declared that since uniting with this
people, he had enjoyed uninterrupted happiness.  Of his
subsequent history nothing is known.
In the occasional retirement of his rural study, the
young pastor endeavoured to make up for lost hours. Most
of the books which he had read up to this time, were either
borrowed or picked up at the places where he lodged; but
their rarity led him to devour rather than to peruse them.
Sometimes he found in unexpected places scarce volumes
which he continued to read while he was in those neighbourhoods. This pursuit of knowledge under difficulties left its
mark on his mind. We remember to have heard him recite
events from the History of the Arabians, which he had not
opened for sixty years. At the house of an old German on
James River, he first met with Stillingfleet's Irenicum,
which he read with great avidity, and with a valuable access
sion to his knowledge on controverted points in church
polity. The main principles of that work he retained through
life as his own; though the distinguished author is said to
have abandoned them. Though he preached in three large




RENEWED STUDIES.                177
counties, he continued to redeem some time for study, and
laid out a small sum for books. Among these early purchases, he mentions the works of Reid and Stewart, so far
as then published.
He was further stimulated to laborious investigation by the
alarming prevalence of infidelity in his native State. Paine's
Age of Reason was widely circulated and much read by the
young men of the country.  " Indeed," says he, " most of
our educated and professional young men became Deists, or
worse. Young lawyers openly reviled religion, and boldly
attacked its serious professors. Many of those who entertained such opinions occasionally attended public worship;
and in these circumstances it was needful to study the evidences of Christianity with care. My mind was so occupied
with the subject, that I often preached on it.  My trialsermon for ordination was entirely onl this topic; the text
being John xvii. 17,'Thy Word is Trruth.' I also undertook
an answer to Paine; but his Second Part was soon published, and then Watson's Apology, which I considered far
better than any thing I could produce.  Murray's Evidences
appeared to me popular and convincing; but I' have since
never seen a copy."
" It was perhaps an advantage to me that my collection
of books was small, and that my attention was devoted to
few subjects. On a copy of the British Encyclopedia I seized
with much avidity, and thus learned something about the
progress of the Sciences. My thirst for knowledge was always
great, and its pursuit was never a weariness to me." It
is not improper to add, that throughout his whole life ho
12




178                  THE A LLENS.
retained a lively interest in mathematical and physical in.
vestigation; delighting in the severe methods of the old
geometry, and keeping himself acquainted with the course
of discovery to an extent which was surprising to all around
him.
As these pages, if read at all, will be read by persons
living in the very region where the scenes here described are
laid, we have thought it expedient to introduce notices of
families and individuals who were active in the promotion
of religion, and who " addicted themselves unto the ministry
of the saints." Among other good results it will serve to
show how extensively the blessings of grace continued to
descend in the lineage of the righteous. The large and
Christian connection of the Venables has been already mentioned. To these we must now add the Allens. They lived
chiefly in Cumberland, but also in Prince Edward, and many
of them were parishioners of Mr. Alexander.  The root from
which they all proceeded was (like various eminent persons
named in our memoir) a member of Mr. Davies's church in
Hanover, and was converted, it is thought, under the missionary labours of Whitefield.  Mr. Alexander heard from
an eye-witness that while Whitefield was preaching, Mr.
Allen fell at full length, as suddenly as if shot through the
heart, and lay for the remainder of the evening as one dead.
He had four sons. " James, the eldest," says the manuscript,
" was one of the most venerable men I ever saw. When I
came to the country he was above seventy years of age, and
lived alone. He was more than six feet in height, slender
and pale, but of benignant countenance, and with hair white




THE MORTONS.                  179
as snow. The most of his time he spent over a large family
Bible, which lay open before him  on a small table, and
which he often moistened with his tears. His son, also
named James, was, before his conversion, irascible in the extreme, and often engaged in broils, being of great muscular
power. On one occasion he came home in a rage, threatening to flog a man who had said that his father was an old
hypocrite. But the fatheirsaid meekly,'Jemmy, my son,
be not angry about it; for I assure you it is the very thing
I have been suspecting of myself for twenty years.' Besides
James, he had two sons, Benjamin and Charles, who were
elders in the Cumberland church, while I was minister there,
as was also their uncle Benjamin Allen. His brother Daniel
was the father of the Rev. Cary Allen. James Allen, the
younger, died by the slow torture of a cancer, which began
in the middle of the lower lip. But though naturally a
man of strong passions and unquiet temper, he was now as
patient as a lamb, and edified all who came to see him by
his heavenly conversation."
The particulars which he gives of the Morton family
afford glimpses of a state of society now existing only on the
frontiers.  The founder of this family, called Little Joe, to
distinguish him from another of the same name, was a bold
and enterprising pioneer, a staunch hunter, and employed
by the Randolphs and others in exploring the country not
yet inhabited, in order that they might lay their warrants
on the good lands and have them surveyed. " I believe that
all the fine lands on Staunton River were first discovered by
him." He was skilful in catching wild horses, which




180                JOSEPH MORTON.
abounded in the unsettled parts of the country. They were
commonly taken in pens, into which they were decoyed; and
several streams in that region have hence derived the name
of Horsepen.
Joseph Morton, with a young wife, built a log calin near
Little Roanoke Bridge.  Mrs. Morton, when an aged widow,
informed Mr. Alexander that for several years she had not a
neighbour nearer than thirty mwiles, and that during the
greater part of the time her husband was absent, and she
and her young children were alone in the forest. Such was
Morton's knowledge of woodcraft, that he could pursue a
horse for any distance by means of his tracks, and this even
if the road was crossed by thousands of other tracks. On
one occasion he was sent for to follow a horse-thief, which he
did for more than a hundred miles, and with success,
although the fugitive had taken all imaginable means of
concealing his course. This account was given by his son,
Col. William Morton, a man of undoubted veracity. Joseph
Morton left his sons possessed of good estates.
"His character was remarkable in several respects. He
possessed a most unshaken firmness, and rigidly adhered to
what appeared to him to be duty. He was brought up an
Episcopalian; but the Rev. Mr. Davies, in one of his
preaching tours, was taken to his house by John -Morton, a
young cousin. Being a rigid Churchman he was reluctant
to consent, but after some consultation with his wife, he
agreed that the newlight preacher should come. Mr. Davies,
by the dignity and suavity of his imanners, made such an
impression on both, that when he departed they accompanied




JOSEPH MORTON.                181
him to Cumberland, to the administration of the sacrament.
His wife had become deeply concerned from the first evening,
and was anxious about partaking of the Lord's Supper. But
she was afraid her husband would not agree to it. She however broke the matter to him on Sunday morning. Though
surprised, he told her to do as she thought proper. In the
intermission after the'action sermon,' he called out Mr.
Davies, and told him he wished to join in communion with
the church. Mr. Davies, after a little conversation, gave
him a token of admission, and the husband and wife went
together to the Lord's Table. From this pair sprang a large
Presbyterian population, spread far and wide through Prince
Edward and Charlotte counties. Not long after, he and a
number of others united in building a house of worship at
Briery; and in a short time they obtained -one half the
labours of the Rev. Robert Henry. W'hen there was no
sermon, Mr. Morton regularly attended, read a discourse, and
catechised the children.  So consistent was his character,
and so beneficial his influence, that he was a blessing to the
whole community in which he lived. As a justice of the
peace, he exerted a salutary influence in suppressing profaneness and other immorality. Being visited by one of his
wealthy correspondents from below, who was exceedingly
profane, Morton gave him warning, that as a magistrate he
was bound to put into execution the law against swearing.
The other disregarded his threats, and was fined accordingly.
I never saw him, but I have been in no neighbourhood where
any man had left on the minds of all a stronger impression
of his integrity and piety. Mrs. Morton lived to the age of




182                CHARLOTTE COUNTY.
ninety-two, and died some time after I was settled in Char.
lotte. She was a very pious woman, whose house was always
open for ministers and religious people, and for the preaching
of the Gospel.":'
From John Morton, named above as the guide of Mr.
Davies, also a numerous progeny descended. Of his sons,
one of the same name spent his life chiefly in France. The
eldest, Maj. James Morton, was a revolutionary officer, and
long an active elder in the church at Prince Edward.  The
Rev. Dr. John H. Rice married his daughter, a lady of
known Christian excellence, who still survives.
The County of Charlotte, where Mr. Alexander now
laboured, is remarkable for having been the residence of two
very celebrated orators, belonging to two successive periods in
our national history; we mean Patrick Henry and John
Randolph of Roanoke. During Mr. Alexander's earliest
visit, he was invited to accompany his preceptor, Mr.
Graham, in a visit to Mr. Henry, who then lived in Prince
Edward, seven or eight miles from  the college; but the
plan was disappointed by the straying of the horses. Mr.
Graham went alone, and spent a day with the old patriot,
to his own great satisfaction; for they were of one mind
in politics, both being exceedingly opposed to the Constitution which had that year been adopted. At a later
* Josiah, the oldest son, was the father of Col. William Lewis Morton.
William, the second son, was for many years presiding judge of the county
court of Charlotte. The third was oddly enough named Little Joe. The
fourth was Col. Jaccb Morton. Three of these were ruling elders in the
Brierv chlurch.




PATRICK HENRY.                 183
period, however, he was brought into nearer acquaintance
with Henry's powers. The account of this in his own words,
as published in 1850, we can by no means omit.
" From my earliest childhood I had been accustomed to
hear of the eloquence of Patrick Henry. On this subject
there existed but one opinion in the country. The power of
his eloquence was felt equally by the learned and the unlearned. No man who ever heard him speak, on any important occasion, could fail to admit his uncommon power over
the minds of his hearers. The occasions on which he made
his greatest efforts have been recorded by Mr. WTirt, in his
Life of Henry. What I propose in this brief article is to
mention only what I observed myself more than half a century ago.
" Being then a young man, just entering on a profession
in which good speaking was very important, it was natural
for me to observe the oratory of celebrated men. I was anxious to ascertain the true secret of their power; or what it
was which enabled them to sway the minds of hearers,
almost at their will.
" In executing a mission from the Synod of Virginia, in
the year 1794, I had to pass through the county of Prince
Edward, where Mr. Henry then resided.  Understanding
that he was to appear before the Circuit Court, which met
in that county, in defence of three men charged with
murder, I determined to seize the opportunity of observing
for myself the eloquence of this extraordinary orator.
" It was with some difficulty I obtained a seat in front of
the bar, where I could have a full view of the speaker, as




184                PATRICK HENRY.
well as hear him distinctly. But I had to submit to a
severe penance in gratifying my curiosity; for the whole day
was occupied with the examination of witnesses, in which
Mr. Henry was aided by two other lawyers.
" In person, Mr. Henry was lean rather than fleshy. He
was rather above than below the common height, but had a
stoop in the shoulders which prevented him from appearing
as tall as he really was. In his moments of animation, he
had the habit of straightening his frame, and adding to his
apparent stature. He wore a brown wig, which exhibited
no indication of any great care in the dressing. Over his
shoulders he wore a brown camlet cloak. Under this his
clothing was black, something the worse for wear.  The
expression of his countenance was that of solemnity and
deep earnestness. His mind appeared to be always absorbed
in what, for the time, occupied his attention. His forehead
was high and spacious, and the skin of his face more than
usually wrinkled for a man of fifty. His eyes were small
and deeply set in his head, but were of a bright blue colour,
and twinkled much in their sockets. In short, Mr. Henry's
appearance had nothing very remarkable, as he sat at rest.
You might readily have taken him for a common planter,
who cared very little about his personal appearance. In his
manners he was uniformly respectful and courteous.  Candles were brought into the court house, when the examination
of the witnesses closed; and the judges put it to the option
of the bar whether they would go on with the argument
that night or adjourn until the next day. Paul Carrington,
jun., the attorney for the state, a man of' large size anld




CAPITAL CASE.                 185
uncommon dignity of person and manner, and also an
accomplished lawyer, professed his willingness to proceed
immediately, while the testimony was fresh in the minds of
all. Now for the first time I heard Mr. Henry make any
thing of a speech; and though it was short, it satisfied me
of one thing, which I had particularly desired to have
decided; namely, whether like a player he merely assumed
the appearance of feeling. His manner of addressing the
court was profoundly respectful. He would be willing to proceed with the trial, but, said he,'My heart is so oppressed
with the weight of responsibility which rests upon me,
having the lives of three fellow citizens depending, probably,
on the exertions which I may be able to make in their behalf,
(here he turned to the prisoners behind him,) that I do not
feel able to proceed to-night. I hope the court will indulge
me, and postpone the the trial till the morning.' The impression made by these few words was such as I assure myself
no one can ever conceive by seeing them in print. In the
countenance, action and intonation of the speaker, there
was expressed such an intensity of' feeling that all my
doubts were dispelled; never again did I question whether
Henry felt, or only acted a feeling. Indeed, I experienced
an instantaneous sympathy with him in the emotions which
he expressed; and I have no doubt the same sympathy was
felt by every hearer.
"As a matter of course the proceedings were deferred
till the next morning. I was early at my post; the judges
were soon on the bench, and the prisoners at the bar. Mr.
Jarrington, afterwards Judge Carrington, opened with a




186                PATRICK HENRY.
clear and dignified speech, and presented the evidence to the
jury. Every thing seemed perfectly plain. Two brothers
and a brother-in-law met two other persons in pursuit of a
slave, supposed to be harboured by the brothers. After some
altercation and mutual abuse, one of the brothers, whose
name was John Ford, raised a loaded gun which he was carrying, and presenting it to the breast of one of the other
pair, shot him dead, in open day. There was no doubt about
the fact. Indeed, it was not denied. There had been no
other provocation than opprobrious words. It is presumed
that the opinion of every juror was made up from merely
hearing the testimony; as Tom Harvey, the principal witness, who was acting as constable on the occasion, appeared
to be a respectable man. For the clearer understanding of
what follows, it must be observed that said constable, in
order to distinguish him from another of the name, was
commonly called'Butterwood Harvey;' as he lived on Butterwood Creek.
" Mr. Henry, it is believed, understanding that the people
were on their guard against his faculty of moving the passions
and through them influencing the judgment, did not resort
to the pathetic, as much as was his usual practice in criminal
cases. His main object appeared to be, throughout, to cast
discredit on the testimony of Tom Harvey. This he attempted by causing the law respecting riots to be read by
one of his assistants. It appeared in evidence, that Tom
Harvey had taken upon him to act as constable, without
being in commission; and that with a posse of men he had
entered the house of one of the Fords in search of the negro,




CAPITAL CASE.                  187
and had put Mrs. Ford, in her husband's absence, into a
great terror, while she was in a very delicate condition, near
the time of her confinement.
" As he descanted on the evidence, he would cften turn to
tom Harvey-a large bold-looking man-and with the most
sarcastic look would call him by some name of contempt;'this Butterwood Tom Harvey,''this would-be-constabe,'
-c. By such expressions, his contempt for the man was
communicated to the hearers. I own I felt it gaining on
me, in spite of my better judgment; so that before he was
done, the impression was strong on my mind that Butterwood Harvey was undeserving of the smallest credit.  This
impression, however, I found I could counteract the moment
I had time for reflection. The only part of the speech in
which he manifested his power of touching the feelings
strongly, was where he dwelt on the irruption of the company into Ford's house, in circumstances so perilous to the
solitary wife. This appeal to the sensibility of husbandsand he knew that all the jury stood in this relation —was
overwhelming. If the verdict could have been rendered immediately after this burst of the pathetic, every man, at
least every husband in the house, would have been for rejecting, Harvey's testimony; if not for hanging him forthwith. It was fortunate that the illusion of such eloquence
is transient, and is soon dissipated by the exercise of sober
reason. I confess, however, that nothing which I then heard
so convinced me of the advocate's power, as the speech of five
minutes, which he made when he requested that the trial
might be adjourned till the next day.




188                JOHN RANDOLPH.'' In addition to this, it so happened that I heard the last
public speech which Mr. Henry ever made. It was delivered
at Charlotte, from the portico of the court-house, to an assembly in the open air. In the American edition of the
New Edinburgh Encyclopedia an account of this speech
and its effects is given, so charged with exaggeration as to
be grossly incorrect. There is more truth in the statements
contained in Mr. Wirt's memoir.  In point of fact, the performance had little impression beyond the transient pleasure
afforded to the friends of the administration, and the pain
inflicted on the Anti-federalists, his former political friends.
Mr. Henry came to the place with difficulty, and was plainly
destitute of his wonted vigour and commanding power. The
speech was nevertheless a noble effort, such as could have
proceeded from none but a patriotic heart. In the course of
his remarks, Mr. Henry (as is correctly stated by Mr. Wirt)
after speaking of Washington at the head of a numerous and
well appointed army, exclaimed,'And where is the citizen of
America who will dare to lift his hand against the father of
his country, to point a weapon at the breast of the man who
had so often led them to battle and victory?' An intoxicated man cried,'I could.''No,' answered Mr. Henry, rising
aloft in all his majesty, and in a voice most solemn and penetrating,'No; you durst not do it; in such a parricidal
attempt, the steel would drop from your nerveless arm!'
"Mr. Henry was followed by a speaker afterwards noted
in our national history; I mean John Randolph of Roanoke;
but the aged orator did not remain to witness the debut of
his young opponent. Randolph began by saying that he had




HENRY AND RANDOLPH                189
admired that man more than any on whom the sun had shone,
but that now he was constrained to differ from him toto coelo.
But Randolph was suffering with the hoarseness of a cold,
and could scarcely utter an audible sentence. All that is
alleged in the Encyclopedia, about Henry's returning to the
platform and replying with extraordinary effect, is pure fabrication.  The fact is as above stated.  Henry retired to the
house, as if unwilling to listen, and requested a friend to report to him any thing which might require an answer. But
he made no reply, nor did he again present himself to the
people. I was amidst the crowd, standing near to Creed
Taylor, then an eminent lawyer, and afterwards a judge;
who made remarks to those around him, during the speech,
declaring among other things that the old man was in his
dotage. It is much to be regretted that a statement so
untrue should be perpetuated in a work of such value and
celebrity.
"Patrick Henry had several sisters, with one of whom,
the wife of Colonel Meredith of New Glasgow, I was acquainted. Mrs. Meredith was not only a woman of unfeigned
piety, but was in my judgment as eloquent as her brother;
nor have I ever met with a lady who equalled her in powers
of conversation.
"At an early period of my ministry, it became my duty
to preach the funeral sermon of Mr. James Hunt, the father
of the late Rev. James Hunt, of Montgomery County, Maryland. The death occurred at the house of a son who lived
on Staunton River: Mr. Henry's residence, Red Hill, was a
few miles distant. on the same river. Having been long a




190              HENRY'S ELOQUENCE.
friend of the deceased, Mr. Henry attended the funeral, and
remained to dine with the company; on which occasion I
was introduced to him by Captain William Craighead, who
had been an elder in President Davies's church. These gentlemen had been friends in Hanover, but had not met for
many years. The two old gentlemen met with great cotdiality, and seemed to have high enjoyment in talking of old
times.
" On the retrospect of so many years I may be permitted
to express my views of the extraordinary effects of Henry's
eloquence. The remark is obvious, in application not only
to him but to all great orators, that we cannot ascribe these
effects merely to their intellectual conceptions, or their cogent
reasonings, however great: these conceptions and reasons,
when put on paper, often fall dead. They are often inferior
to the arguments of men whose utterances have little impression. It has indeed been often said, both of WVhitefield and
of Henry, that their discourses, -when reduced to writing,
show poorly by the side of the productions of men who are
no orators. Let me illustrate this, by the testimony of one
whom I remember as a friend of my youth.  General Posey
was a revolutionary officer, who was second in command, under Wayne, in the expedition against the Indians; a man of
observation and cool judgment. He was in attendance on
the debates of that famous convention in which there were
so many displays of deliberative eloquence. He assured me,
that after the hearing of Patrick Henry's most celebrated
speech in that body, he felt himself as fully persuaded that
the Constitution if adopted would be our ruin, as of his own




HENlRY'S ELOQUENCE.              191
existence  Yet subsequent reflection restored his former
judgment, and his well considered opinion resumed its place.
" The power of Henry's eloquence was due, first, to the
greatness of his emotion and passion, accompanied with a
versatility which enabled him to assume at once any emotion
or passion which was suited to his ends. Not less indispensable, secondly, was a matchless perfection of the organs of
expression, including the entire apparatus of voice, intonation, pause, gesture, attitude, and indescribable play of countenance. In no instance did he ever indulge in an expression that was not instantly recognised as nature itself; yet
some of his penetrating and subduing tones were absolutely
peculiar, and as inimitable as they were indescribable. These
were felt by every hearer, in all their force. His mightiest
feelings were sometimes indicated and communicated by a
long pause, aided by an eloquent aspect, and some significant use of his finger. The sympathy between mind and
mind is inexplicable. Where the channels of communication
are open, the faculty of revealing inward passion great, and
the expression of it sudden and visible, the effects are extraordinary.  Let these shocks of influence be repeated
again and again, and all other opinions and ideas are for the
moment absorbed or excluded; the whole.nind is brought
into unison with that of the speaker; and the spell-bound
listener, till the cause ceases, is under an entire fascination.
Then perhaps the charm ceases, upon reflection, and the
infatuated hearer resumes his ordinary state.
"Patrick Henry of course owed much to his singular insight into the feelings of the common mind. In great cases,




192                PATRICK HENRY.
he scanned his jury, and formed his mental estimate; on this
basis he founded his appeals to their predilections and character. It is what other advocates do, in a lesser degree.
When he knew that there were conscientious or religious
men among the jury, he would most solemnly address himself to their sense of right, and would adroitly bring in Scriptural citations. If this handle was not offered, he would lay
bare the sensibility of patriotism. Thus it was, when he
succeeded in rescuing the man who had deliberately shot
down a neighbour; who moreover lay under the odious suspicion of being a tory, and who was proved to have refused
supplies to a brigade of the American army.
"A learned and intelligent gentleman stated to me that
he once heard Mr. Henry's defence of a man arraigned for a
capital crime. So clear and abundant was the evidence, that
my informant was unable to conceive any grounds of defence,
especially after the law had been ably placed before the jury
by the attorney for the commonwealth. For a long time
after Henry began, he never once adverted to the merits of
the case or the arguments of the prosecution, but went off
into a most captivating and discursive oration on general
topics, expressing opinions in perfect accordance with those
of his hearers; until having fully succeeded in obliterating
every impression of his opponent's speech, he obliquely
approached the subject, and as occasion was offered dealt
forth strokes which seemed to tell upon the minds of the
jury. In this case, it should be added, the force of truth
prevailed over the art of the consummate orator.":
* Princeton Magazine, 1850.




HAMPDEN SIDNEY.                193
From manuscript authorities we add a few traits. At
first sight Mr. Henry's appearance struck him as being not
unlike that of an old clergyman.  There was a peculiar
earnestness in all that he said, and his small gray eyes
seemed to be in perpetual motion. "The only time," says
he, " that I ever was in Mr. Henry's company, was a few
months before his decease, when I was sent for to preach at
the funeral of old Mr. James Hunt, the father of the Rev.
James Hunt.  This man had been brought up in the same
neighbourhood with Mr. Henry, and resided near him during
his last years. Old Captain Craighead had late in life married a daughter of Mr. Hunt, and it was he who introduced
me. I had, however, little conversation with him. After the
sermon he asked Capt. Craighead what we meant by talking
so much about grace, and added that he did not understand
it. He was, however, a firm believer in Divine Revelation,
and spent much of his time during his retirement in reading
the works of such authors as Sherlock and Tillotson; and he
warmly recommended religion to those young friends who
came to see him." Some years ago we obtained from the
Clerk's Office of Charlotte County a certified copy of an
extract from his last will and testament, which is in these
remarkable words: "This is all the inheritance I can give
to my dear family. The Religion of Christ can give them
one which will make them rich indeed."
The College of Hampden Sidney derived its name from
two great English patriots. It was founded for the purpose
of raising up an evangelical ministry.  As early as 1771, in
consequence of representations made by Mr. Samuel Stan13




194                HAMPDEN SIDNEY.
hope Smith, afterwards President Smith, of New Jersey,
the Presbytery of Hanover began to consider the subject of
education.  The first attempts were humble, and did not
contemplate any thing so elevated as a college.  One or two
schools, under presbyterial direction, were during the following years taught in different places, till at length in 1773
it was determined to open a seminary in the county of
Prince Edward. Mr. Samuel Stanhope Smith was appointed
the rector, and became at the same time pastor of the congregations of Prince Edward and Cumberland.  Land was
given and moneys were raised for books and apparatus.
The revolutionary troubles greatly impeded, but did not
utterly hinder the progress of the institution. In 1776, MBr.
John Blair Smith, so often mentioned in this narrative, became the assistant of his brother, and there were other instructors.  After some time Mr. John B. Smith became
principal of the seminary, as well as pastor of the churches
of Cumberland and Briery. Mr. Smith was'chosen captain
of a company of the students, about sixty-five in number,
and Mr. David Witherspoon, his assistant, was first lieutenant.  The charter of Hampden Sidney as a College was obtained in 1783, and its first literary degrees were conferred
in 1786. In 1788, on the retirement of President Smith
from the active duties of the college, the Rev. Drury Lacy
was made Vice President.  In September, 1789, Mr. Smith
resigned his presidentship, and for several years efforts were
made, without success, to obtain the services of the Rev.
William Graham.  " The attention of the Board"-rwe here
quote froml Dr. Foote-"~ was then turned to the Rev. Ar



JOHN H. RICE,                 195
chibald Alexander, a member of Lexington Presbytery,
recently licensed to preach the gospel, a pupil of Mr. Graham. He was invited to unite with Mr. Lacy in the government and instruction of the College, with equal authority
and emolument."
We are happily able to give Mr. Alexander's own statement with regard to this important step in his life.  "In
this retirement," says he, "I spent a few years, when the
Trustees of Hampden Sidney elected me to the office of
President. The condition of the college was as low as it
could be to have an existence. Mr. Lacy set up a school in
the vicinity, which was attended by most of the youth who
had been at the college. But the Trustees were determined
to resuscitate it if' possible. At first I was very averse to an
undertaking of so little promise. But at length I was persuaded to make the trial; and the consideration had much
weight with me, that if I did not succeed, I should leave
matters no worse than they were, but that if I had success,
I might be doing some public good. I accordingly consented
in the autumn to go to the college in the following spring;
and immediately applied myself to the studies connected
with my office.
"John H. Rice, then about the age of twenty, had been
engaged in teaching below Richmond, and not being satisfied to remain there, was employed by the Trustees of the
College to take charge of the few students who were preparing for entrance.  During the winter I visited him frequently, and conversed with him respecting the enterprise,
I soon found that he was no common man. His appetite




196                CONRAD SPEECE.
for books was rabid.  Having access now to the college
library, which, though small, contained some well selected
works, he was like a hungry ox when let into a rich pasture.
Before he had half finished one volume, he would be forcibly
drawn to another, and thus he roamed from book to book,
and from shelf to shelf. I found him also to be fond of composition. He read to me many of his pieces, most of which
were seasoned with no little sarcasm. He had a peculiar
disposition to satirize the fashions of the times, without any
thought of publication; but it was customary with him to
give his essays to the students to be pronounced as orations."
It is scarcely needful to add, that the person here named
is the same who in later years, as the Rev. Dr. Rice, filled
so large a space in public observation, as a preacher, an
author, a controvertist, and a theological professor. During
all his life he was one of the most intimate and cherished
friends of Dr. Alexander.
The name of Rice suggests that of Speece, another ornament of the Virginian church, and likewise closely allied to
the subject of these memoirs. Conrad Speece was the son
of a German who lived in Campbell County, some miles east
of New London. The grandmother of Conrad, living at this
town, used to receive frequent visits from the boy, whose
education had been neglected, but who had a turn for music,
so as to play on several instruments. On one occasion the
boy composed a humorous description of some Christmas
sports which had taken place at the village tavern.  The
ierses were shown to a number of persons and were thought




CONRAD SPEECE.                197
extraordinary for a boy of thirteen. At that time Mr. Edward Graham, afterwards the brother-in-law of Dr. Alexander, taught a school in New London. By his encouragement young Speece turned his attention to regular study.
He was large for his age, and had a rough and uncultivated
appearance. But he learned readily whatever was assigned
to him. He did not, however, commit the Latin Grammar
to memory as speedily as another boy in the school; but as
soon as he began to read, and to apply the rules to the
structure of language, he seemed to have awaked to a new
sense, and began to study with extraordinary delight. He
soon finished the first book, leaving all his classmates far
behind. Rising to a higher class he distanced them in like
manner, until at the year's close he stood at the head of the
school, and was able to translate Cicero and Horace with
more than common accuracy and even elegance. Nothing
could now cool his ardour of desire for a liberal education.
After struggling through many difficulties he at length realized his hopes and entered Washington College in Lexington, where he took his degrees with high distinction, and
became one of its tutors.
"I first knew him," says Dr. Alexander, "when on a
visit to my friends. On leaving college he returned home
and began to read law, but his health seemed so much impaired that for a while he gave up study and travelled on
foot to the Sweet Springs, where he spent the usual season
of attendance, bathing and drinking the waters. Another
teacher being needed at Hampden Sidney, I turned my attention to Speece, who had now returned home, whither I




198               PORTRAIT BY RICE.
went to seek him out.  I found the dwelling of his father in
a rough country, at a romantic and sequestered spot. Conrad
was at home, in coarse farmer's dress, and seemed pleased
with the idea of spending his life in husbandry. But after
deliberating upon my proposals, he agreed to come to us at
the commencement of the next session. IIe came accordingly, and he, John H. Rice, and I, performed the duty of
professors without the title."
The intimacy of these three young men was so close and
affectionate, that we seize with avidity on any estimate
which any one of them formed of the others; and we therefore introduce here, by a little anticipation, some remarks of
Dr. Rice, in which he sketches his two associates. " The
eldest of them" (whom he calls Paulinus, but who is evidently Mr. Alexander,) "had been a preacher ten or fifteen
years, is endowed with faculties of the highest kind, and has
cultivated them with great assiduity.  No man of his age
has greater extent or variety of information. His powers are
peculiarly fitted for the investigation of truth. With a sound
judgment, a vigorous understanding, a quick perception, a
great compass of thought, he has the capacity of holding his
mind in suspense, until a subject be viewed in suspense, until a subject be viewed in all its bearings
and relations, and until the rays of evidence, however widely
they are dissipated, are all brought to a focus on the point
under investigation. Possessing such intellectual powers as
these, he is animated with a love of truth, and thirst after
knowledge, which prompt to unwearied diligence in research, and unremitting application to study.  His knowledge, then, must be considerable.  His taste is refined, his




PORTRAIT BY RICE.                 199
imagination rich in imagery, his elocution copious, and his
trains of reasoning are close and logical; his eye sparkles
with intelligence, and his voice is as melodious as the notes
of the nightingale. But in addition to all these excellencies,
he is remarkably modest; it is impossible for you to be in
his company without seeing his superiority, and yet such is
his modesty, that it gives you no pain to acknowledge it."
"The second " (Philander, or Mr. Speece,) " is a younger
man and a younger minister.  He also possesses real genius.
The most remarkable quality of his mind is vigour; in argumentation he resembles one of the Ajaxes of Homer, with
his mace of iron, at every vibration overthrowing whole
troops of Trojans. His conception is very clear; and of
course he is perspicuous, precise and fluent in elocution.
From the comparison just used, however, it is not to be supposed that there is any thing of coarseness in his mind.
Far from it. His imagination is delicate, and his taste refined."  He adds, " The piety of both these gentlemen is
warm and unaffected.  They have hearts formed for friendship.  Possessing the highest talents, and the best means of
information that Virginia could afford, they would have been
capable of filling any office, and might have risen to the
first eminence in the State.  But such was their devotion to
the cause of Christ, that they left all and followed him."`'
To return to our narrative; when Mr. Alexander went
to the college he resigned his more distant charge, and divided
his preaching between the congregations of Briery and Prince
* Virginia Religaious Magazine, Vol. iii. pp. 170, 171. MIaxwell's Life of
Rice, pp. 39, 40.




200             EMPLOYMENT OF TIME.
Edward. His friends in Charlotte, and especially Mrs. Read.
were much opposed to his removal. On going to Hampden
Sidney he had possession of the president's house, but usually
took his meals at the common table. At no time of his life
did he feel more keenly the stimulus to application, and he
declared in later years that whatever accuracy he possessed
in classical and scientific knowledge was acquired during such
periods, under the spur of necessity. He began by insisting
on the utmost exactness, and took pleasure in drilling the
young men in those rudiments which they had neglected.
The number increased rapidly, but there were as yet no
regular classes, and very few took a complete course. Yet
all the branches then common in colleges were taught, and
some of them  thoroughly; the studies being arranged in
some degree after the method then prevalent at Princeton.
It is to be regretted that of that very interesting period
of his life, we have but slender memorials from his own pen.
He was earnestly engaged, even beyond his strength, in accumulating and systematizing stores of knowledge; and ill
conscientiously endeavouring to lift up an institution which
had sunk almost to the lowest point. At the same time he
was laborious in preaching the Gospel, not only to his two
congregations, but, according to the custom of the country,
in many places on every side. To this~part of his duties he
always recurred with most pleasure in the memory of later
years. Though he had under his care many promising and
interesting pupils, some of whom live to remember his kind
instructions, he never felt himself completely at home at the
head of a college. There was, however, much solace in the




SCRUPLES ABOUT BAPTISM.             201
cordial intimacies of a cultivated and Christian people, who
have been and still are noted, even among Virginians, for
the warmth of their attachments and the largeness of their
hospitality. These years, spent amidst many anxieties,
were, nevertheless, profitable in no common degree, in
the corroborati',n of principles, and the moulding, of char.
acter.
The history of any human mind is incomplete unless it
affords us some knowledge of inward struggles in regard to
the acquisition of truth and the performance of duty.  One
of these crises occurred in the life of Mr. Alexander, while
he was president of the college; and we must interrupt the
regular narrative, to give some account of his difficulties
respecting Baptism. His own record of this is so extensive
that it might even form a separate publication. For our
present purposes we must endeavour to afford an honest
representation of the whole, in the way partly of abridgment
and partly of extract.
"About this time," says he, probably indicating some
part of the years 1797, 1798, or 1799, "I fell into doubt
respecting the authority of infant baptism. The origin of
these doubts was in too rigid notions as to the purity of the
church, with a belief that receiving infants had a corrupting
tendency. I communicated my doubts very freely to my
friend Mr. Lyle, and to Mr. Speece, and found that they had
both been troubled by the same. We talked much privately
on the subject, and often conversed with others in hope of
getting some new light.  At length MIr. Lyle and I determined to give up the practice of baptizing infants, until we




202            SCRUPLES ABOUT BAPTISM.
should receive more light. This determination we publi6ly
communicated to our people, and left them to take such
measures as they deemed expedient; but they seemed willing to await the issue.  We also communicated to the
Presbytery the state of our minds, and left them to do what
seemed good in the case; but as they believed that we were
sincerely desirous of arriving at the truth, they took no
steps, and I believe made no record.
"Things remained in this posture for more than a year.
During this time I read much on both sides, and carried on
a lengthened correspondence, particularly with Dr. Hoge.
Two considerations kept me back from joining the Baptists.
The first was that the universal prevalence of infant baptism, as early as the fourth and fifth centuries, was unac-.
countable on the supposition that no such practice existed
in the times of the apostles. The other was, that if the
Baptists are right, they are the only Christian church on
earth, and all other denominations are out of the visible
church. Besides, I could not see how they could ever obtain
a valid baptism."
Mr. Speece was, however, more precipitate, and having
concluded that the Antipedobaptists were right, strongly
urged his friiends to join him in going over. They endeavoured to retard his progress, but his mind was naturally inclined to peremptory conclusions, and impatient of dubiety.
One Sunday morning, therefore, he went to a Baptist meeting, held within two miles of the college, and without having
given notice of his intention, was there re-baptized by irnmersion. On his return he seemed much satisfied with vhat




IMMERSION OF SPEECE.            203
he had done. The church soon licensed him to preach, and
he began to go about the country with his Baptist brethren.
"He attended an Association in Cumberland, where he
preached; some of the ministers informed him that he
aimed well, but that if he would do execution he'must put
to more powder.' They gloried much in their acquisition,
and the day was often fixed by public rumour for my baptism and that of Mr. Lyle. It was evident, however, that
Mr. Speece was not perfectly happy in his new connection;
yet he said nothing."
To those who know the character of Dr. Alexander's
mind, his reverence for Scripture as the sole authority, and
his extraordinary acquaintance with the various literature
of this controversy, it is scarcely necessary to say, that his
ultimate determination was founded exclusively on the word
of God. Historical and patristical arguments cleared away
prejudices, and brought him with an unbiassed judgment to
the record. None know better than those Baptists, who
were once his pupils, how largely and thoroughly he investigated the purely biblical sources of opinion onu this topic,
and how entirely he repudiated all other grounds for pedobaptism. The contrary has been disingenuously insinuated
by some whose personal knowledge might have prevented
the convenient error. In the'very manuscript from which a
portion has been selected for the Memoir, as having some
novelty, there is a sketch of the scriptural argument. It is
omitted by us, from our persuasion that none even among
opponents will allow themselves to quote such silence as




204               REMOVAL OF DOUBTS.
proof that Dr. Alexander remained a pedobaptist without
biblical warrant. In that sketch, which is too long for out
narrative, he passes under review the arguments for infant
baptism which controlled his life-long judgment; the apostolic baptism of households, as explained by proselyte baptisms; the inclusion of infants in churches; the federal consecration of infants; the analogy of circumcision; the identity
of the Jewish and Christian church; our Lord's treatment
of little children. The expansion of these and like argumlents, in his elaborate lectures, is remembered by hundreds,
who learned from him to go to the Scriptures for the settlement of their doubts.
By this process of diligent inquiry his mind was at
length brought to peace upon a subject which had given him
great distress for as much, it is believed, as two years. He
quietly resumed the practice of the church, in which he
was joined by his friend and relative Mr. Lyle. And after a
short time Mlr. Speece returned to the bosonl of the church,
of which he remained for many years an ornament.
It is not without entertainment that we read the account
of these events in the " History of the Rise and Progress ol
the Baptists in Virginia," by the Rev. Robert B. Semrple.
He is speaking of the Middle District Association.
" The sessions were as usual, until October, 1800, whlen
they met at Tarwallet Meeting-house, in  Cumberland
County. This is said to have been one of the most unpleasant, and, indeed, confused meetings, that the Association
had ever witnessed. The consequences did not subside for
several years, as we shall presently show. It was at this ses



BAPTIST ACCOUNT.                205
sion that Mr. Conrad Speece (now a Presbyterian preacher),
who had been baptized in the course of the year, by eldet
James Saunders, was introduced as a Baptist preacher, and
was found, both in the pulpit and private conference, agreeable and clever.  He was a man of considerable learning, having been educated for a Presbyterian preacher. By
reading some treatise on believers' baptism, as'tis said,
he became convinced of the impropriety of infant baptism.
After some time devoted to the study of the subject, he offered himself as a candidate for baptism, and was accordingly baptized by Mr. Saunders. Soon after this Association, he professed to be again convinced of the validity of
infant sprinkling, and wrote a letter to Mr. Saunders, to
that effect. He rejoined the Presbyterians, and has since
continued with them. Of his motives it is difficult to judge.
By some it was said that he was disgusted with the turbulent
proceedings of the Association at this session; by others,
that Mr. Speece was much disappointed on finding that
Baptist preachers received little or no compensation for
their ministerial services. It is, perhaps, more probable,
that he found the general tenor of the manners and customs
of the Baptists quite different from his own and those of his
former associates. Finding his temper soured at the loss of
society to which his habits were assimilated, and not able at
once to accommodate himself to that into which he had now
fallen, he was the more easily persuaded of the truth of
principles, which but a few months previously he had renounced as erroneous and false.  It has sometimes been
made a question in private companies, whether it would not




206               BArTIST ACCOU NT.
have been more wise, on this occasion, to have separated
baptism and church membership. There were at this time
several other eminent Presbyterian preachers, halting between
two opinions,  It was thought they were perfectly persuaded of the impropriety of infant baptism, and therefore
did not for many years baptize a single child, but were
averse to joining the Baptists, or, however, from some cause,
did not do it. Now, say some, had one or more of these
been baptized, without requiring them to become members
of the Baptist Church, he could have baptized the rest, and
they might have formed a society to themselves, in which
the ordinances would have been preserved pure, although
their church government and general manners would have
been different from the other Baptists. These suggestions
were wholly speculative; one thing, however, is certain, that
when Mr. Speece deserted the Baptists, the scruples of all
the others were quickly removed, and they resumed the absurd practice of sprinkling children. Of Speece we must
say, we wish that he had either never submitted to baptism,
or that, being baptized, he had not again turned away."
pp. 197, 198.
The family of Dr. Alexander have repeatedly heard him
speak of a long journey of exploration which he made
during these years into what is now the State of Ohio. He
travelled on horseback, with a mounted and armed servant.
But we can turn to no living person who can give us the
date. ATe remember his evening stories about his meeting
a bear at night, and his coming suddenly on a camp of
hunters who were rejoicing over great spoil. And he has




JOURNEY TO THE WEST.              207
often been heard to say, that in Chilicothe, which is now
a city, the best room in the best house, at the time of
his visit, had the stump of a tree remaining in its earthen
floor.
Aged persons remember the days in which he was a
daring horseman, an accomplishment certainly not rare
among gentlemen bred in the South.  This must seem
strange to those whose memory recalls only the contrast of
his later years, when he never mounted a horse, and seldom
entered a vehicle. The sister is still living in a serene and
lovely old age, who in childhood accompanied the young
missionary on a journey of more than sixty miles, clinging
behind his saddle. It was a preaching tour; and with that
spirit of adventure which belonged to his nature, and that
contempt for mere conventionalities which never forsook
him, he took the child of ten years as his companion.
The expedition is fresh in her memory after sixty years.
She speaks of crossing the mountain range of the Blue
Ridge, where there was no road but a bridle-path, and of
the high excitement awakened by the fresh forest and the
unwonted scenes of sublime nature. And she tells how her
brother, wearied with her unceasing prattle, vexed withal
with toothache, and perhaps, as his manner was, studying
as he rode, offered her a silver dollar if she would hold her
peace. Our informant is Mrs. Elizabeth McClung, of Staunton, now the sole survivor of all those sons and daughters;
and the living resemblance in face and manner of her departed brother.
Since the more extended memoir was written, a number




208            JOURNEY TO THE WEST.
of little pocket memorandum books have come to lights
which contain accurate lists of all the discourses preached
during this period. In later years, this method was dropped,
as, indeed, was every thing which looked like an enumeration of duties and performances, or connected the personality
of the preacher with the great and paramount work of God
by him. In all his life, he knew nothing of gratulatory
assemblages, ministerial anniversaries, or jubilees; while his
peculiar tolerance and candour kept him frora censuring
those who accepted such offerings of partiality.




CHIAPTER NINTH.
1801.
RESIGNATION OF PRESIDENTSHIP-JOURNEY NORTHWARD-DR. WADDEI
-AMOS THOMPSON —FREEMAN  THE  FANATI —PHILADELPIIIA —THH
GENERAL ASSEMBLY-PRINCETON-NEW-YORK-GENERAL ASSOOIATION
OF CONNECTICUT —IARTFORD-DR. STRONG-NEWPORT-DR. HOPKINS
AND DR. PATTON-DR. EMMONS.
A  FTER remaining at Hampden Sidney until the spring
of the year 1801, Mr. Alexander resigned his office as
president, and resigned his pastoral charge. His motive was
twofold; first, the restoration of his health, which had been
impaired by several severe attacks of illness, and a desire
to visit New England, which he had long cherished. An
expectation prevailed among most of the people that he
would return after a few months to resume the duties of his
post, and hence no efforts were made to fill the vacancy.
Indeed, he was assured by the Trustees of the college,
and the elders of the churches, that they would gladly receive him after the temporary absence. He resolved, how



210              JOURNEY NORTHWARD.
ever, to fetter himself by no engagements, so that he might
be free to accept any situation of greater usefulness which
might be presented. He was chosen by the Hanover Presbytery as a commissioner to the approaching General Assembly.
Travelling on horseback, and at a time when bank-notes
were little in use, he carried his money in his saddle-bags.
The first night after leaving home, in the county of Cumberland, he was robbed, by some one who cut the leather
containing his little store. On the day after leaving this
place, he was seized with so violent a chill, that he was
obliged to turn into a house not far from the road, and seek
permission to lie down. Pursuing his journey, he is led to
observe, that the whole course of a man's life may depend on
a determination which he makes from motives of very little
weight. For he hesitated for some time whether he should
go the upper road, by the Rev. Dr. Waddel's, or the lower
road, by the Rev. John Todd's, who had requested him to
attend the communion of their church. His preference of
the former led to one of the most important events of his
life.
The Rev. Dr. James Waddel, celebrated as the Blind
Preacher of Wirt's British Spy, was now in old age residing
on his estate, at the junction of the three counties of Louisa,
Orange and Albemarle; his dwelling being in the first
named of these. He was born in Ireland, in 1739, and was
educated in Pennsylvania, under the care of the Rev. Dr.
Finley, afterwards president of New Jersey College. He
was licensed as a probationer by the Presbytery of Hanover,




DR. WADDEL.                  211
in 1761, and in the same year received calls from five congregations at once; none of which he accepted. In 1762)
he became pastor of the churches of Lancaster and
Northumberland, lying between the great rivers Potomac
and Rappahannock. Here he would cheerfully have spent
his life, amidst extraordinary usefulness, and in the bosom
of a loving people, but for the ill effects of the climate.
About the year 1771, svith a constitution almost ruined, he
accepted a second call to the church of Tinkling Spring, in
Augusta. The last earthly removal of Dr. Waddel was to
an estate called Hopewell, on the other side of the mountain.
It was here that Mr. Alexander was about to visit him.
Dr. Waddel was one of the most distinguished clergymen
of his time. To great learning, he added an eloquence so remarkable, that the traditionary accounts of it seem almost
fabulous.  It was of that sort which electrifies whole asseimblies, transferring to them the speaker's passion, at his will;
a species, we must own, which has prevailed very much at
the South.  Under his preaching, audiences were moved
simultaneously and irresistibly, as the trees of the wood are
shaken by a tempest. Especially was his power great, in so
painting his sacred scenes as to bring the hearer into the
very presence of the object. When he rose in scornful
argument, it was like a sweeping torrent, which carries
every thing before it. He died on the 17th of September,
1805. During. some years of his life, he was afflicted with
blindness. A cataract seized first one eye, and then the
other, leaving him in total darkness.  By means of the
operation of couching, he recovered the sight of one eye.




212               AMOS THOMPSON.
During this great privation, he still retained his ardent
thirst for knowledge, and caused many volumes, some of
which were in the Latin tongue, to be read to him by his
daughter Janetta. whose name now becomes connected with
our narrative.
Mr. Alexander had seen this young lady before, in visits
which he had made at Hopewell, the residence of Dr. Waddel. Her beauty had struck him, but the impression was
transient. When he now saw her again, waiting with filial
piety on her venerable father, and during a sojourn of several
days learned more fully the excellencies of her character, he
determined to seek her hand, and being accepted, proceeded
on his journey with a pleasing obligation to return; though,
as he says, his resolution had been to go to the North
untrammelled.
"While I remained here," so says the narrative, "a
clergyman came to the house, of whom I had often heard,
though I had never seen him. The Rev. Amos Thompson,
who had long resided in Loudon County, Virginia, was a
man of gigantic frame, but not in the least inclined to corpulency. His bodily strength was prodigious, several proofs of
which I had from himself. He came to the northern part
of Virginia, before the Revolutionary War; and before his
arrival, the Baptists were the only dissenters in that part of
the country. Old Father Thomas, one of their leading preachers, and a man of many oddities, had been threatened with
personal violence by a set of profane and lawless men, if he
should ever show his face in a certain pulpit, where he had
preached ftr some time. The old man took a journey of




AMOS THOMIPSON.               213
twenty or thirty miles, to obtain the presence of Amos
Thompson at the aforesaid place. Thompson, being fearless
and fond of adventure, at once agreed to go and preach for
him. When they arrived, a great multitude had assembled,
some to hear the preacher, and some to see the sport, for
the ruffians had sworn that they would beat old Thomas.
While Mr. Thompson was at prayer, a company armed with
bludgeons entered the house, and took their position just
before the pulpit; but when they saw the brawny arm and
undaunted appearance of the preacher, they became alarmed,
and permitted the service to go on to its conclusion. I
ought to have stated, that at the close of his discourse, Mr.
Thompson addressed himself directly to these men, and expostulated with them on the unlawfulness of their proceedings; assuring them, that Mr. Thomas, though a dissenter,
was under the protection of the law, and that if a finger
should be raised against him, the law should be put in force,
for that he would spend all the little property he possessed
in seeing that justice was done. He concluded by saying,
that although he was a preacher, and a man of peace, he
held it to be right, when attacked, to defend himself, which
he was ready and able to do. When the meeting was ended,
he went out of the house and inquired for the captain of the
band. Being led to the spot where they were collected, he
approached this man, and asked him to go aside with him.
A stout, bold-looking man walked off with him towards the
wood, on entering which he appeared to be panic-struclk,
stopped, and raised his club. Thompson said,'Fie, man,
what can you do with that?' and in a moment wrested it




214             FREEMAN THE FANATIC.
out of his hand, adding that he intended no violence, but
that if so disposed, he could hurl him to the earth in a moment.  The ruffian was completely overawed, and was glad
to escape from so powerful an antagonist. Father Thomas
received no further molestation.
" Thompson was a graduate of Princeton College (in
1760), while Mr. Davies was President. He was, I think,
a native of Connecticut. Soon after being licensed, having
heard that the Rev. Samuel Hopkins had adopted some novel
opinions in theology, he took horse and travelled to Newport, to converse with this celebrated man, and if possible
to convince him of his errors.  The result was, that after
discussing the disputed points for several days, he came
away a thorough convert to Dr. Hopkins's system, to which
he tenaciously adhered until his dying day, and which he
)reached on all occasions, filling the minds of the untheological Virginians with astonishment, and often with displeasure.
" WVhen I met Mr. Thompson at Hopewell, he was about
seventy years of age, and had been journeying to Henry
Court House, more than three hundred miles from his residence, to attend on a lawsuit, for a piece of land to which
he thought that he had a title; I travelled for several days
with him. As he often alighted to get fire for his pipe,
which he kept almost continually in his mouth, we made
slow progress.  Soon after this, the old gentleman died
suddenly, I believe."
Pursuing his journey northward, Mr. Alexander passed
through Alexandria, Georgetown and \Washington.  At I he
last-named place, he inet with Adamn Freeman, lately) 




ADAM FREEMAN,                  215
minister of the Gospel, but now a wild enthusiast. The
case of this unfortunate man is too full of warning, to be
passed over without particular notice.
Adam Freeman was a schoolmaster at Lexington, during
the revival times. He was remarkable for a long visage,
large mouth, very black hair, and lips which scarcely concealed his teeth; he was tall, raw-boned, and of knotty
joints. He attended a dancing-school, but with no very
notable amendment in his carriage. In 1789, having been
lately admitted to the bar, Freeman became interested in
the great revival, of which much has already been said.
From the first, he seemed to possess a full assurance of the
favour of God. He was licensed to preach the Gospel, and
inveighed earnestly against intemperance in eating, and the
excesses of female dress. After obtaining a settlement, he
became much distressed at the wicked and corrupt state of
the church, and after revolving the matter for some time,
resolved to demand of every communicant in his charge
a full account of his inward state, and to warn such as
seemed unfit, against approaching the Lord's Table. He
was next led to attribute the corruption of the church, to
the membership of infants, and published a pamphlet, entitled "The Death and Burial of Infant Baptism."  The
principle which he now adopted, was, that nothing in religion
was to be practised, for which we can find no example or
explicit command in Scripture. Hence, he would neither
pray nor sing before preaching, and likewise disused family
worship. But he had not been many weeks among the Baptists, befbre he ftiund that they needed further reformation.




216                ADAM FREEMAN.
Being unsuccessful in his endeavours, he published a philippic against the Baptists, and gave notice that he had set up a
church of his own; into which, however, he could gather
but nine persons.
Giving a literal interpretation to the last chapter of
Mark, he next attempted to perform a miracle, by healing
a woman who was ill. The failure on this occasion only
convinced him that his faith was not genuine, and he went
home in the greatest distress. He gave himself up to fasting
and prayer, and after much study came to the conclusion,
that no part of the Bible is inspired except the books of
Ezekiel and Revelation. In process of time, he declared
himself to be the Shiloh of the prophecy. While in this
frenzy, he went to a neighbouring town, directed as he said
to observe a fast of three weeks, and to warn the people of
impending destruction.  For months he had allowed his
beard to grow, and now wore a long white garment, so that
his appearance was terrific. He passed through the streets
in this guise, crying, " Wo, wo, wo! " He was apprehended,
and on being brought before the magistrates, made a defence
of great ability and severity. He left the place denouncing
anathemas, and shaking off the dust of his feet against it.
Soon after this, he appeared at the house of a gentleman of
Alexandria, clothed, and in his right mind, but declaring,
that as to religion, he would have nothing more to do with
it. He went to the remote south, and resumed the practice
of the law; but was seized with a fever, which soon put an
end to his life.
But we must accompany Mr Alexander on his journey




PHILADELPHIA.                217
northward. He arrived at Philadelphia, and attended the
General Assembly, which met on the twenty-first of May)
1801. He was the only commissioner from his Presbytery,
and there were only three from the Southern States. It
may remind us of the growth of our church, that seventeen
Presbyteries were represented. Here, however, he was brought
into a nearer acquaintance with several eminent men, among
whom were the Rev. Dr. Jonathan Edwards, Dr. McMillan,
the patriarch of western Pennsylvania, Dr. Green, Dr. Woodhull, and Dr. McKnight.  Here also he first met with the
Rev. Samuel Miller, with whom he was to spend more than
thirty-five years of harmonious labour, but who was now in
the early bloom of manly vigour. Reports were brought to
this Assembly, of the remarkable revivals in the WMest, by
which our churches were largely extended in that growing
region; and the Synod of Virginia made it known, that they
had employed six missionaries to labour west of the Allegheny. This Assembly was further remarkable for the adoption
of regulations for the government of churches in the new
settlements, where Presbyterians and Congregationalists are
intermingled.  The whole acts of this Assembly bear marks
of a zeal for the extension of the church, and of a missionary
spirit in regard to the heathen.  Mr. Alexander was appointed a delegate to the General Association of Connecticut,
together with Dr. McKnight, of New-York, and young Dr,
Linn, of Philadelphia.
Here he had another attack of remittent fever, the last
wvhich ever visited him. We were informed by the late Rev.
Dr. Hillyvr, of New Jersey, that he fell in with Mr. Alex



218                  PtINCETON.
ander during this sojourn; that the latter considered hiE
state of health as threatening, and was much impressed
with a belief that his labours were soon to end.
On leaving the great city, he proceeded, still on horseback, through New Jersey to New-York. His companion
was Mr. Charles Coffin, a young minister of New England,
who had been sent out to East Tennessee, where he united
with the Rev. Hezekiah Balch, in gaining many adherents
to the new views of Hopkins. He was an alumnus of Harvard, and a man of respectable talents, but strongly attached
to the scheme of Emmons. On the first day they reached
Trenton, where they lodged with the RIev. James F. Armstrong.
"The next stage," says he about 1849, "we travelled
no further than Princeton; the first time I ever saw the
place where I have already spent above thirty years of my
life, and where I shall in all probability lay my bones. SUch
a view Jf futurity as should have presented to me the events
of my life, would then have appeared very strange." He
renewed his acquaintance with President Smith, who had
known his father and grandfather, and had been seen by
him at meetings of the General Assembly in Winchester
and Philadelphia.  In those days the talk in Princeton was
about Godwin's Political Justice, a book which has lost its
interest, and about a young man, lately a tutor in the college, whose eloquence was awakening attention.  This was
the celebrated Henry Kollock.
"The next day we lwent on to New Brunswick, where
we intended to lpass the Sabbath.  Colonel John Bayard,




NEW-YORK- HORSE NECK.              219
the father of Andrew, Samuel, James, and John, had met
me in Philadelphia and kindly invited me to stop at his
house. In the afternoon I preached for the Rev. Dr. Clark,
in my usual Virginia style, without notes, on the conversion
of Paul. Here I became acquainted with Judge Paterson,
with whom I was greatly pleased. With great talents, extensive knowledge, and profound legal attainments, he was
as gentle and unassuming as any man I ever met with. Dr.
Clark was an excellent man and greatly esteemed by his
people. Col. Bayard was a gentleman of generous feelings,
who had been much in public life, both civil and ecclesiastical; for he had been President of Congress, and often in the
General Assembly.
A single stage brought them to Neow-York, where Mr.
Alexander was courteously entertained by the Rev. Dr.
MBcKnight. There he was brought into more close acquaintance with the Rev. Samuel Miller, as yet unmarried, and
resident with his distinguished brother, Edward Miller,
M. D. Dr. Rodgers was now advanced in years, but still
occupied the pulpit of the First Church in his turn.
At Horse Neck, in Connecticut, now Greenwich, they
enjoyed the hospitality of Dr. Isaac Lewis, at the finely situated dwelling which is still occupied by his descendants.
Dr. Lewis was a man of science, and had been thought of
as qualified for the presidentship of Yale College, when his
neighbour, Dr. Dwight, was chosen. This excellent clergyman was the father of Mr. Zechariah Lewis, of New-York.
Their next stage was Norwalk, on the Sound, where they
were kindly received by Dr, Burnett, who had received his




220             DANBURY-LITCHFIELD.
education at Princeton. At Danbury they fell in with
Doctors McKnight and Linn, on their way to the General
Association, and the whole company was entertained by a
wealthy deacon. Here they saw a few Sandemanians collecting for their worship. Here, also, they saw still in use
the pillions on which women rode to church behind their
husbands and fathers. At every step they had cause to admire the unaffected hospitality of New England.  Some
sketches in the words of the manuscript journal will be acceptable to the reader.
" From Danbury we proceeded to Litchfield, and arrived
early in the day on which the General Association was to
meet. The appearance of the old country clergymen was to
me novel and grotesque. They came into town on horseback
or in chaises, wearing cocked hats, and sometimes queues
dangling down the back. The opening sermon was preached
by Dr. Perkins, of Hartford.  The ministers all met at the
house of the pastor, Mr. Huntington; and the first thing
was a distribution of long pipes and papers of tobacco, so
that the room was soon filled with smoke.
"According, to usage the delegates were lodged at the
house of the pastor, a very polite and hospitable man, who
soon afterwards became a Unitarian. Dr. Linn requested me
to go into the pulpit with him. About the time of assembling, a black cloud arose, causing such darkness that long
before he had got through his sermon he was unable to deci.
pher his manuscript.  Mr. Huntington sent the sexton for
candles, and these were placed in candlesticks on the pulpit.
The windows however were open, and the wind being high,




GENERAL ASSOCIATION.             221
the lights flared so much that Dr. Linn could not make out
to read what lay before him, and taking the paper in his
hand, held it first to one candle and then to the other, until
at length he impatiently threw down his manuscript, and
attempted to conclude his sermon extempore.  But he succeeded poorly in a kind of preaching to which he was little
accustomed. He was, nevertheless, a man of genius and a
splendid orator. He died by the rupture of a bloodvessel, at
the early age of twenty-six. His ability as a writer may be
learnt from from his controversy with Dr. Priestley respecting the divinity of Christ. He was the colleague of Dr.
Ewing, whom he succeeded in the First Church in Philadelphia.
" The General Association seemed to have little business,
and there were no set speeches. The famous'Plan of
Union,' which made so much noise in after years, had been
adopted by the Presbyterian Church this year, under the
influence of Dr. Jonathan Edwards, president of Union College, and was ratified by the Association without discussion.
Dr. Nathan Strong was evidently the leading spirit.
"After the General Association was over, Coffin and I
mounted our horses and took the direction of Hartford.
About the middle of the day we arrived at the house of the
Rev. Mr. Cowles, whom Coffin said we must not pass, as he
was a clergyman of some distinction and a writer on Infant
Baptism. At Hartford I went to the ]Rev. Dr. Strong's,
who had reached home before us, and now received me cordially. Dr. Strong was somewhat humorous in his conversation. The next day was the Sabbath, and I preached for




222                  HARTFORD.
him. I found throughout New England that expressions of
approbation and even admiration in regard to sermons, were
much more unreserved than in Virginia; and it affected me
strangely to have my preaching praised. hMy sentiments
suited Dr. Strong, on this account, that he had drawn back
from the ultraism of Hopkins, Emmons and others, and
that Coffin, as it appeared, had delivered a discourse in
which he recognised the doctrine, that God is the efficient
cause of sin. With this Dr. Strong was dissatisfied, and in
the morning spoke to us both, as though we entertained that
opinion; but I immediately disclaimed it, and left Coffin tc
defend his own tenets.
"The year before there had been a glorious revival in
Dr. Strong's congregation, more considerable than any which
had occurred since the great awakening in the time of President Edwards. The enthusiasm and divisions which brought
disgrace on that work, had left in the sober-minded a dread
of all religious excitements. When the revival began in
Hartford, as Dr. Strong told me, he was alarmed and thrown
into great perplexity, as to whether he should encourage or
suppress it. Labouring under this anxiety he went for advice to Chief Justice Ellsworth, on whose judgment he
placed great reliance. The Judge counselled him to go forward, encouraging the seriousness, but to guard against extravagances. A similar awakening was experienced in most
of the congregations in the State; of which a full account
may be seen in the Connecticut Evangelical Magazine. Dr.
Strong took me in his chaise to visit Judge Ellsworth in North
Hartford  I had a particular desire to see this distinguished




DR. STRONG.                 223
man; but we were not so fortunate as to find him at home.
In returning we called and took tea with Mr. Rowland, the
minister of North Hartford. We found here the Rev. Dr.
Lyman, of Hatfield, on his way to New Haven, to p-ead for
a church there against their minister. He was famous, as I
learned, on such occasions, and was sent for from far and
near. Dr. Lyman, though dry and metaphysical, and apparently not susceptible of tender feeling, was a sound theologian, and a clear-headed and truly benevolent man. The
zeal and constancy with which he sustained the cause of
Foreign Missions, furnish good evidence of his enlarged and
Christian views. I was told that there was not a family in
Hatfield which did not belong to his charge; and that the
manners of the people retained all the puritanic simplicity
of the preceding century.
" Much attention was paid to church music at this time
in New England; but the taste was not the most pure and
refined. Choirs were found every where, and the singing
was very much confined to them. This struck me unfavourably. There was little appearance of devotion in the choir,
and less in the congregation. In Dr. Flint's church, I was
informed before I went, that the chorister would send into
the pulpit the psalms which were to be given out.
"In the evening of the Sabbath we had a delightful
meeting in Dr. Strong's lecture-room, where I was again
called upon to speak. A large portion of the assembly was
made up of new converts, fruits of the late revival, with
whose appearance I was greatly pleased. The Rev. Mr.Cooley has informed me, that he came there that evening in




224                  DR. STRONG.
great distress of mind, under which he had laboured for
months, and that he found peace and comfort to his soul,
There still remained some cases of obstinate dejection.
Among these was a young son of Dr. Strong, about sixteen
or seventeen years of age. I conversed with him, at the
request of the father, but could not succeed in dispelling the
darkness which hung over his mind.
"Dr. Strong was a graduate of Princeton College, and
in principle a Presbyterian as to church government.  He
was much celebrated for his powers of wit and satire.
He published two volumes of sermons, such as he preached
to his people. They are more practical and experimental
than any discourses issued in New England about this
time. But they are deeply imbued with the new theological opinions now generally embraced in that country.
He published also a volume on Universal Salvation, in answer
to a posthumous work of his intimate friend, Dr. Joseph
Huntington, entitled'Calvinism Improved.' The argument
is founded on the optimistic principle, that the introduction
of sin and its eternal punishment tend to the highest possi
ble degree of happiness in the universe.  On this principle,
the reasoning is ingeniously and forcibly conducted. The
work gave great satisfaction to all Hopkinsians in New England, but has been little read elsewhere. Nevertheless, Dr.
Strong, like Dr. Dwight, drew back from the opinion that
God is the author of sin, and also from making a willingness
to be damned a sign of grace, and from denouncing the use
of means in the case of the unregenerate.  These three
things they were accustomed to name as the characteristics




SERMON BY TiHE WAY.               225
of Hopkinsianism; so that when Dr. Jamles P. Wilson
visited President Dwight, he was assured by him that there
were no Hopkinsians among them, and was referred to these
tenets as the criterion.
" Leaving Hartford, we directed our course towards New
London. About the middle of a very hot day we arrived at
Lebanon Crank, where we observed that the church was full
of people. We put up our horses at the tavern, went into
the assembly covered with dust, and took our seats near the
door. The clergyman, a middle-aged man of low stature,
had just finished the introductory services, and seeing us
enter, suspected us to be travelling ministers, came down to
inquire, and finding his surmises correct, entreated and insisted that one of us should preach for him.  EIe informed
us that an extensive revival was in progress among his
people. Mr. Coffin put the service off upon me, and up I
went with all my dust unbrushed, and gave an extempore
lecture on the Parable of the Sower. Tile pastor thanked
me over and over for the discourse, which he said was exactly
adapted to his people's present condition; but expressed
some astonishment that I could go regularly through such an
exercise without any sign of a note. He said that the aid was
most opportune. He had been so occupied with counselling
inquirers and preaching lectures, that he had never before
had so little preparation.  He took me home with him, and
gave me a particular account of' the origin and progress of
the awakening, which may be found described in the magazine above named."  Twenty or thirty years afterward, the
Rev Mr. Wright, a missionary to the Choctaw Indians,
16




22 6                RHODE ISLAND.
called on Dr..Alexander, and informed him that he was then
present, under his first religious impressions.
The following day they were at Norwich, with the Rev.
Joseph Strong, a brother of Dr. Nathan Strong of Hartford.
"In the morning we arrived at New London, and having
been previously invited, lodged with the Rev. Mr. Channing,
an uncle of the great Channing of Boston, a sensible man,
but evidently no friend to evangelical religion or to revivals.
Crossing the Thames next day we came into the wildest part
of the State of Connecticut, which borders on Rhode Island.
The change became more manifest every mile we travelled,
and we were soon in the midst of the Narraganset country,
famous for its milk and cheese. About noon we met crowds
of people in the road, returning from a Baptist meeting,
where nearly thirty ministers had convened to ordain a
brother over a vacant church; but we were informed that the
ordination did not take place, because the church refused tc
promise any salary to the candidate. The evident rudeness
and want of courtesy in the people whom we met, differed
widely from any thing which we had before observed in New
England. When we came to the church, we found a concourse of hearers still there, and could hear the voice of a
preacher, with the intonation with which I had been well
acquainted at home.  But going a quarter of a mile further,
I saw what I had never known to take place at an ordination, namely, a horse-race, in a field adjoining the highway,
aid hundreds of people collected for the sport.
"In passing over to the island, I began for the first
time to breathe the bracing and exhilarating air of the ocean.




NEWPORT —DR. PATTON.              227
Its effect on me was suddenly and sensibly beneficial. The
first day I spent on the island restored me to vigorous
health; at least I grew better from that time. Mr. Coffin,
to whom I resigned myself, took me to the house of the
Rev. Mr. Patton, afterward Dr. Patton, one of the meekest
and gentlest men I ever saw. It was every where a matter
of curiosity to hear an orthodox man from Virginia, which
was supposed to be given up to Deism. Here for the first
time I entered the pulpit in a gown; and it sat awkwardly
upon me, for Mr. Patton was a much taller man, the pulpit
was high, and the stairs steep, so that in mounting I became entangled in my own train. I found that Mr. Patton
had fully adopted the opinions of Dr. Hopkins. Against
these, as he informed me, he was much prejudiced at first,
but had been brought over by degrees, since which time his
mind had been completely at ease. Coffin had been sornewhat reserved in bringing out the whole system, and we had
disputed so much on the way as to several points, that he
did not consider me open to conviction. But Mir. Patton
considered all my questions in the most candid manner, and
admitted all the legitimate consequences of the principles
which he entertained. In particular, he admitted, which
was unusual, that it would be nowise incompatible with
God's holiness and goodness to create beings in a state of
total depravity. I received from him a more satisfactory
account than I had obtained, of the entire system  of Dr.
Hopkins, who was still alive. I spent a day with him, but
he was now about eighty years of age, and unable to enter
much into abstruse reasoning. IIe seemed perfectly placid,




228                    BRISTOL.
and fully resigned to the will of God. He had just received
a volume of Scott's Works, in which the extreme opinions
of New England are spoken of as tending to Deism. Dr.
Hopkins, in the calmest manner, undertook to show that
Scott had mistaken his meaning.
"Dr. Hopkins had nothing assuming or dogmatical in
his manner, but showed a childlike simplicity and entire
submission to the will of God. His labours as a pastor were
by no means successful. The church of which he was now,
and had long been pastor, was at this time in a very feeble
condition.
"Having preached for Mr. Patton in the morning, I
supplied Dr. Hopkins's pulpit in the afternoon. There was
a mere handful of hearers, and when the psalm was given
out, it appeared that there was no one to lead the music,
and the Doctor directed me to proceed without singing."
From Newport the travellers made their way to Bristol,
where they were hospitably received by the clergyman.
They visited Mount Hope, famous for its prospect and for
its connection with the history of King Philip. At Providence they enjoyed the kind attentions of Dr. Hitchcock, a
Congregational clergyman of what were called liberal views.
They received much kindness from Professor Messer, afterward President of Brown University.
The name of Dr. Emmons was perhaps as extensively
known as that of any divine in New England.  The perspicuity, vigcur and terseness of his style, the ingenious concatenation of his arguments, his adventurous boldness, the
startling nature of his conclusions, and the increasing num



DR. EMMONS.                 229
ber of his adherents, made him a master not to be despised or overlooked.  "Franklin," says our narrative, "the
town in which Dr. Emmons lived, joined the State of Rhode
Island.  Mr. Coffin was desirous that I should see this
champion of the new divinity. I have no doubt that he had
a design in taking me to this venerable theologian, believing
that by his conversation I should be brought over, for I was
already quite a follower of Edwards. Nor had I the least
objection to receive light from any quarter. We, therefore,
turned aside from the main road, and came to the Doctor's
house early in the evening. The country around was better
cultivated than any I had yet seen in New England, and
Dr. Emmons occupied a large and commodious farm-house
very near to his church. I found him to be rather taciturn
than talkative. He did indeed make many and earnest inquiries of Mr. Coffin respecting the progress of the new
opinions in Tennessee, whither Dr. Balch had carried the
seed from Massachusetts.
" Mr. Coffin proposed to me, as did Dr. Emmons, to remain there and preach, as he had promised to supply a
vacancy at some distance. I consented without hesitation;
expecting, however, to undergo a thorough sifting, and perhaps to be under a moral necessity of changing my creed.
I found that my remaining for so many days was likely to be
an inconvenience to Mrs. Emmons, who appeared to be a
discreet, sensible and pious woman. But on the first day of
my sojourn, the Doctor took me to a monthly meeting of
ministers at old Mr. Sandford's, within a few miles, which,
however, he was not in the habit of attending, as he did not




230                 DR. EMMONS.
belong to the club. A dinner was always provided, after
which there was a sermon in the church. The two old gentlemen had long been neighbours, but did not agree in their
views either of doctrine or church discipline; but they were
friendly when they met. And as the Doctor had brought a
Virginia preacher, a nondescript, they made him doubly
welcome. They differed even more in politics than in religion; for Mr. Sandford was a democrat of a school hitherto
unknown to me, holding that when the church was fully established, there would be no need of civil government. On
that day the sermon came in turn to be preached by the
Rev. Mr. Alexander, of Mendon, a man of some learning.
But he was understood to have gone to Boston, and it was
doubtful whether he would be there. It was therefore put
upon me to preach, and Mr. Sandford took me up stairs into
his study, and left me to make such preparation as I needed.
In the mean time Mr. Alexander arrived, having ridden
twenty or thirty miles in a very hot day. To his inquiries
as to what arrangement had been made for preaching, MIr.
Sandford replied,'We certainly expect Mr. Alexander to
preach.' Mr. A. declared it to be out of the question, but
Mr. S. continued to repeat,' We expect a sermon from Mr.
Alexander, and no other.' Thus he continued the hoax,
until the bell rang for public service, upon which I descended
and was formally presented as the Rev. Mr. Alexander from
Virginia. I never saw a man more surprised or relieved.
We went to the church, and found a respectable number for
-ti week day and a busy season. At that time I used no
notes in the pulpit, but being in a country where all sermons




DR. EMMONS.                  231
were read, I felt it to be incumbent on me to make my discourses as methodical and accurate as I could. And though
I never could commit words so as to depend on my memory,
I had long accustomed myself to follow trains of thought,
and the regular array of an argument.  I took as a text,'He that hath my commandments and keepeth them, he it
is that loveth me.' I undertook to show
I. The foundation of love to Christ, as it relates both to
the object and subject of the affection.
II. The properties of love to Christ; which I made to be
1. Sincerity.
2. Supremacy.
3. Constancy.
III. The evidences of love to Christ;
1. A desire of pleasing, and fear of offending.
2. A desire of conformity to his character.
3. A desire of communion, and sorrow on account
of absence.
4. A desire to promote his glory, and sorrow when he
is dishonoured, or when his cause declines.
"As I insisted strongly on the position that love must terminate on the true character of the object beloved, I gave
them all great pleasure, as this showed that I did not hold
to the selfish scheme of virtue. When I got into the chaise
with the old Doctor, he made me quite ashamed with his
laudation, and assured me there was nothing in the sermon
which he did not approve.
" The next day Dr. Emmons took me to a much greater
distance to a weekly lecture. The audience was small.




232                 DR. EMMONS.
My text was Luke xiv. 18,'But with one consent they all
began to make excuse.' The next day, being the Fourth
of July, he took me to a neighbouring town, where an oration was to be delivered by a certain Dr. Manning, who had
once resided in Virginia. The Doctor was greatly out of his
element at this meeting, for the oration was rabidly democratic, and the people assembled were generally of this party.
"The next day was Saturday, and Dr. E. left home for
the place of his appointment. During the visit he never attempted to enter into any controversy, but seemed rather to
avoid all doctrinal discussion. He had a young man studying with him, who was principally occupied in writing two
discourses for the Sabbath, and these, according to the
custom, he read to his preceptor. I was present on one of
these occasions. The main object of the sermon was to
prove man's dependence on God for every thing, including
every thought and emotion. After this exercise, the young
man, whom I took to be very stupid, propounded to the
Doctor this question: If man is dependent for all thoughts
and feelings, and if the law of God requires him to be holy,
while his thoughts are sinful, then does not God require the
creature to be independent? I wondered how he would answer it, when, after a few moments' pause, he turned to me
and asked me how I should reply to the question. I begged
to be excused from any such attempt, and so the matter
went off without an explanation.
" In person, Dr. Emmons was a little inclined to be corpulent.  His hair was thin, and his countenance rather
forid than pale. His knowledge of the Southern States was




DR. EIMMONS.                  233
imperfect.  He had just published a sermon on the character
of Jeroboam, which was considered excessively severe against
Jefferson, who had just ascended the presidential chair; yet,
as far as I could judge, he cherished no malignity against
any one, on religious or political grounds."
We insert here, for the sake of connection, a statement
found in another manuscript.  "Old Dr. Emmons once said
to me, in defending the bands and cocked hats which were
then used in New England;'Clergymen, when they travel
or go abroad, should have some badge of their profession. It
preserves them from many unpleasant rencounters, and
causes them to remember their sacred office. For,' added
he,'when a clergyman thinks that he is not recognised as
such, he is very apt to yield to unsuitable compliances; and
often, when he seeks to be incognito, he is known to all the
company.' This is a sage remark.""'
In the frequent mention which Dr. Alexander was accustomed to make of this visit, he always spoke of him in high
terms of respect; while he entertained, as is well known,
-very different theological opinions. But it was characteristic
of him to treat with great liberality, and in some respects
with esteem and affection, those whom he at the same time
regarded as seriously erroneous. In the next chapter we
shall take up his narrative, in regard to Boston, the grand
object of his curiosity.
* MS. Life of the Rev. William Graham.




CHAPTER TENTH.
1801.
EXW ENGLAND JOURNEY CONTINUED-BOSTON-DR. ECKLEY-DR. MORSEHARVARD COLLEGE —IPSWICTI-DR. DANA-NEWBIURYPORT-EXETER —
DARTMOUTH COLLEGE-DANIEL WEBSTER-SHELBURNE —DR. PACKARDCOMMENCEMENT AT PRINCETON-PIIILADELPITIA-RETURN TO TIIE COLLEGE.
c T OBSERVED  on approaching Boston," says he, "that
few persons rode on horseback, and that I attracted no
little attention, having my valise, overcoat and saddlebags,
and a horse very different in form from those of New England; for he was of English blood, and had been a racer in
his time. I began to feel, as I commonly did when entering
a city, a certain shyness, which led me to avoid the most frequented houses. When, therefore, I came to the City Hotel,
and observed mlany men in uniform, and some with epaulettes, I thought I would ride on further, and find a quiet
house.  But after proceeding some distance, I found that I
had gone entirely through the town, and was on the way
over the bridge to Cambridge. Here, however, I observed a
sign, and as I meant only to leave my horse, I determined to
stop.  And indeed I found a quiet house, for the innkeeper




BOSTON.                    235
put my horse into the stable himself, and I saw no one about
the premises. I felt that I was out of my latitude, and
thought it was too late to present my letters. For Dr.
Burnet, at Norwalk, had kindly given me an introduction to
the Rev. Dr. Eckley, minister of the Old South. The next
day I went in search of this gentleman, and coming to a
bookstore, the common refuge of strangers and loiterers, I received the necessary directions and proceeded to deliver my
letter.
"Dr. Eckley insisted that I should take up my abode
with him, saying that the Rev. Henry Kollock of New
Jersey had been his guest, but was now gone to Charlestown to spend a few days with Dr. Morse. After a little
time, I returned to my hotel, paid my bill, and mounted my
Rosinante, which I proceeded to have put up at the City
Hotel. The Doctor informed me that it was the evening
for the Boston Lecture, a series of discourses preached in
turn by the clergy of Boston and vicinity.
"Dr. Eckley was one of a class I had never known.
He was refined, possessing great sensibility, punctiliously
courteous, and talkative on all subjects. I accompanied
him to the Thursday lecture, where about fifty persons were
met, and where old Dr. Howard delivered a downright Arian
sermon; not, however, in a controversial way, but just as if
all agreed with him. Indeed at that time all controversy
was proscribed by the liberal party. After sermon I was
presented to Dr. Morse, who greeted me cordially, and invited me to Charlestown. A dozen venerable looking clergymen were present, some with fullbottomed white wigs.




236                BOSTON CLERGY.
Henry Kollock, to whom I was next introduced, was one of
the most affectionate men I have ever known; his heart
seemed to be for ever overflowing with kind feelings.
"Dr. Morse insisted that I should go the next evening and
preach at his lecture, which I agreed to do, but soon repented,
for my spirits had sunk below par. I however went, and
preached, but was much disturbed by the glare of the lights;
for chandeliers were then all, the fashion. I did as well as I
could, using no notes; the fact was I had none with me.
On the Sabbath I had engaged to preach for Dr. Eckley in
the morning, and for Dr. Morse in the afternoon. Poor
Kollock was almost torn to pieces, in the anxiety to secure
his pulpit services, which were something new in Boston;
for in composition and delivery he followed the French
school, and having an impassioned manner produced an extraordinary impression upon his audience. He divided his
labours among all sorts. Indeed there was as yet no public
line of demarcation among the clergy.  One might learn
with ease what each man believed, or rather did not believe,
for few positive opinions were expressed by the liberal
party.  Dr. Kirkland was said to be a Socinian, as was Mr.
Popham; and Dr. Howard an Arian. Dr. Eckley had professed to be an Edwardean, but he came out, after my visit,
a high Arian. Mr. Eliot was an Arian, Mr. Emerson a
Unitarian of some sort, and Dr. Lathrop a Universalist.
Dr. Freeman, one of the first who departed from orthodoxy,
was the lowest of all, a mere humanitarian. He still used
the book of Common Prayer, altered so as to suit his
opinions. Dr. Morse was considered a rigid Trinitarian.




HARVARD.                    237
Dr. Harris, of Dorchester, was reckoned a low Arminian,
and became a thorough Unitarian.
"Harvard College was not yet fully under Unitarian
influence, but was leaning in that direction.  President
Willard was thought to hold the old Puritan doctrine, but
had no zeal for orthodoxy. Dr. Tappan, professor of theology, was in his writings a Calvinist of the school of Watts
and Doddridge; a very amiable man, of prepossessing manners. Dr. Pierson was professor of Hebrew; he was much
opposed to Unitarianism, but did not possess great influence.
All were for making little of doctrinal differences. As soon
as the liberal men had caused this to be settled as a principile, they devised a way to introduce the ablest Unitarians
into the College, as fast as vacancies occurred. When Dr.
Willard died, Kirkland, a man of genius and eloquence, was
put into his place. Even at the time of my visit, all the
young men of talents in Harvard were Unitarians.
"Dr. Morse took charge of me for the most part. He
conducted me to the Commencement, and introduced me as
the President of a college in Virginia. At my first arrival,
there was a laughable mistake about this presidency. I had
never intended to mention my connection with a college,
and I knew that Hampden Sidney was perfectly unknown.
But Coffin had told Dr. Burnet that I had been President
of Hampden Sidney, and Burnet in introducing me to Dr.
Eckley, had written it Camden Sidney. This letter, Dr. E.
showed to Dr, Morse, and the American geographer was
nonplussed; he had never heard of the College. There was
no way to clear up the difficulty but by applying to me.




238                   DR. DANA.
But by this, the matter was little mended, tbr Dr. Morse in
his Geography had represented Hampden Sidney as nearly
extinct; my honour as a -President was not therefore very
flattering. All titles of this sort, however, go for much in
New England, and I was often placed before my seniors and
betters. I was invited to dine with the professors and students, but Dr. Holmes, the author of the Annals, took me
to his house.
"I preached a number of times for Dr. Eckley in the
Old South, and two or three times for Dr. Morse, in Charlestown, but for no others. The principal surprise at hearing
me preach was, that I, a Virginian, should avow such doctrine. A certain Judge Peabody, after one of my discourses,
expressed this opinion, adding that he had supposed almost
all the educated Virginians to be Deists.
"In the Old South Church I found a lingering relic of
Whitefield's times, in a convert of his day, a lady between
eighty and ninety years of age, who belonged to a prayermeeting, founded then, which had been kept up weekly,
until within a few years. Of this she was now the only
surviving member.  The celebrated Samuel Adams, signer
of the Declaration of Independence, was a member of the
Old South, but too infirm to come out. Having spent a
week-or ten days in Boston, I mounted my horse and went
on my way towards Newburyport."
At Ipswich he found Dr. Dana, father of the present venerable Dr. Dana. Ie had been engaged in a controversy respecting the use of the means of grace; in which lie and
Dr. Tappan, of Cambridge, were the leading writers on one




ROWLEY-NEWBURYPORT.                239
side, against Dr. Spring and Dr. Emmons on the other. We
here resume the fragment of autobiography:
"I preached at Rowley, the day after I left Ipswich,
and saw Mrs. Bradford and family. It is pleasant to meet
with evidence of having been the instrument of good to any
one, after having remained in ignorance of it for almost
half a century.  The sister of Dr. Coggswell informs me
that she was present at that sermon, and then received
her first religious impressions. Mr. Bradford had been in
his lifetime a zealous advocate for the new opinions in theology, and his people had caught the itch of disputation.
Two of them, of whom one was a deacon, came to the house
where I was entertained, that I might settle a metaphysical
difference which they had been discussing for some time. It
was whether there is any thing in the mind besides exercises?
I found it very difficult to comprehend what they meant;
for at that time, I had never heard of what is called the'Exercise Scheme.' It occurred to me however, that my
best course was to get them into the dispute before me,
which I did by asking questions of one and the other. I
was greatly amused with the matter and manner of the controversy, and began to understand the subject in debate.
" The next day I went into Newburyport. My letter
directed me first to Dr. Spring's; but when I came to the
house, I found them under a great and sudden affliction,
The next clergyman on my list was the Rev. Daniel Dana,
a son of the pastor at Ipswich. He was about my own age,
and received me kindly. There was a considerable excitement in the town, where the Free Will Baptists had just




240                   THEOLOGY.
commenced operations, and made a number of converts. I
was informed by Mr. Dana, that although there were eight
Congregational churches, no two ministers agreed in their
theological system. One, an Englishman, was an old-fashioned Calvinist; another, a disciple of Gill, was called an
Antinomian; a third was a moderate Calvinist; a fourth
an ultra Hopkinsian; a fifth an Arminian, and a sixth a
high Arian. These are all that I remember, and I preached
for them all. Indeed, they kept me so constantly at work
that I broke down towards the last, and was obliged to cease
on account cf a pain in my breast.  In consequence of the
affliction in Dr. Spring's family, I saw but little of him;
otherwise I should have had a time of severe sifting, as the
Doctor  was accustomed by a train of logical reasoning, to
push his opponent to the conclusion to which he wished to
bring him."
One day Mr. A. dined at the house of Dr. Coffin, the
father of his late travelling companion. A clergyman present (for the manuscript leaves it obscure whether it was
Dr. Coffin or another), entered into discussion with him
upon the reigning topics of the day, and supposed him to
concede that that which renders an action morally good, is
its tendency to produce the greatest amount of happiness.
"I told him that I did not believe it. I maintained that
holiness has an intrinsic excellence, distinct from its tendency to promote happiness, an excellence greater than that
of happiness itself. I added that the animal creation has a
constitution which renders them susceptible of happiness,
and yet that constitution is not moral; that many inanimate




EXETER.                    24i
things have a tendency to produce happiness, which nevertheless does not stamp them with the character of virtue.
He looked me full in the face and said,'Where were you
educated?' I replied that what little education I possessed
was obtained among the wild mountains of Virginia."
Leaving Newburyport, he journeyed towards Exeter.  A
trait of the times is not without entertainment.  " On the
way," says he, " I was overtaken by a man on horseback,
whom I immediately knew to be a clergyman, by the three
cornered hat which all country ministers still wore, when
they appeared in public. Dr. Eckley told me that even in
Boston, when he visited the older people, he was obliged tc
put on the cocked hat, as they considered the round hat toc'buckish' for a clergyman.  The stranger informed me that
he had been out' candidating,' that is, preaching as a candidate in a vacant church. Before we reached Exeter, he turned
aside to visit a rich old farmer, and to fill his saddle-bags
with cucumbers from the garden. In those days, a pastor
in New England who had been dismissed from his people
was in a situation little better than if deposed.  Poor Mir.
MI. N. lived in a dilapidated house, where I visited him,
and where there seemed to be no supplies but the cucumbers
and some rusty bacon. I greatly commiserated his condition; for he was a man of learning, and his wife was a welleducated and refined woman, of great simplicity.
" The Phillips Academy, at Exeter, was the most celebrated institution of the kind in New England.  After
spending a week in Exeter, Mr. Rowland, the pastor, accompanied inle to Portsmouth.  I preached here several
I17_




242              FATIHER OF WEBSTER.
times (for Dr. Buckminster) in the week-evenings, and tc
filll houses.  I found the Doctor an exceedingly agreeable
man; well-informed if not learned, orthodox, without any
ultraisms, but not abounding in zeal.  He introduced me tc
his son, who had been graduated at the late Commencement,
and was the pride of Harvard.  He was full of anecdotes,
such as were current at Cambridge, and which were mostly
intended to ridicule evangelical opinions."
Froml Exeter he directed his course toward the mountains
of New Hampshire, and was soon in the midst of romantic
scenery, which revived the associations of his youth. This is
a proper place to insert some paragraphs from a publication
made by Dr. Alexander in the year 1850, which derives additional interest from the recent death of our great statesman, since these pages were commenced.' At Harvard, I had the pleasure of being introduced to
President Willard, Professors Tappan, Pearson, and others.
I was also able to attend the commencement at Dartmouth
College. In passing from Massachusetts over the mountains
of New Hampshire, I lodged within a few rods of the house
of a farmer, the father of the Honourable Daniel Webster.
The old gentleman came over to the tavern in the morning,
and chatted for half an hour.  Among other things he said
that he had a son at Dartmouth, who was about to take his
bachelor's degree.  The father was large in frame, highbreasted and broad-shouldered, and, like his son, had heavy
eyebrows.  He was an affable man, of sound sense and considerable information, and expressed at wish that I mliglt be
acquainted with his son, of whoin it was easy to see that he
was proudc




COMMENCEMENT.                  243
"Arrivino at Hanover, the seat of the College, a day or
two before the commencement, I put up my horse and secured a room at one of the two public houses. On the morning of the commencement I presented my letters to President
Wheelock, and was received with a profusion of ceremonious
inclinations; for it was pleasantly said that the President
suffered no man to have the last bow. This, it was reported,
was put to the test by a person of some assurance, who
undertook to compete with him in the contest of politeness.
He accordingly took his leave, bowed himself out of the mansion, and continued to bow as long as he was upon the premises; but the President followed him to the gate, and remained in possession of the field. Dr. WVheelock was a man
of learning, especially in the department of history. It was
said that he had a great historical work in preparation, but
none such ever appeared.
" When I afterwards returned to the tavern, I was surprised to find the whole house filled with a strange and motley multitude. My own room was occupied by a company of
gamblers, and the usual circle of lookers-on. I loudly asserted my claim to the room, threw myself on my reserved
rights, and made appeal to the host.  He declared himself
unable to turn the people out; the Green Mountain Boys
appeared to be good-natured, but perfectly impracticable.
At this juncture I began to consider my situation quite deplorable, when relief came from an unexpected quarter. A
note was delivered to me from a gentleman of the village,
inviting me to become his guest; by singular resolution he
had kept exclusive possession of his house, the only one in




244               DANIEL WEBSTER.
Hanover exempt from invasion.  I found ample room alnd
hospitality. It appeared that a letter from Salemn, Massachusetts, had named me to this worthy friend, as a clergyman of Virginia, making a first journey through New England. In this house I made the acquaintance of the only
other guest, the Reverend Theophilus Packard, now Doctor
Packard; whom I accompanied to his home in Shelburne,
and there spent a very happy, and as I think, profitable
fortnight.
"At the Dartmouth commencement, General Eaton, of
eccentric memory, was marshal of the day, and was unceasing
in busying himself about the order of the procession to the
church; giving each graduate, of every college, the place
due to his seniority. Among the speakers was young Daniel
Webster.  Little dreaming of his future career in law, elo
quence and statesmanship, he pronounced a discourse on the
recent discoveries in Chemistry, especially those of Lavoisier, then newly made public."
As the introduction of this extract has carried us a little
further forward than we intended, it will be necessary to
go back and glance at a few incidents of the road to Hanover.
" The tavern belonged to Capt. Webster, though he
lived in a large house a few rods distant. The morning that
I was to set out to cross the mountains, two clergymen
drove up, both alumni of Dartmouth, and on their way to
the Commencement.  One of these was MIr. (now the Rev.
Dr.) Gillett, of Hallowell, in Maine. They were in a chaise
and I was on horseback, but they were very willing to make




FURTHER TRAVELS.                245
frequent exchanges.  Mr. Gillett was an adept in metaphysical discussion, and we were often in danger of upsetting
the chaise among the rocks, from being so intent on our discussion. The other clergyman held the same opinions, but
had little of his companion's acuteness.
" On the side of a mountain, for we had many to cross,
we came to a house early in the afternoon, which was the
only place for a great distance where we could obtain lodgings; here, therefore, we determined to remain over night.
On conversing with the woman of the house, I found that
she had recently obtained experience of religion, though she
had heard no preaching. Her eldest son had gone out into
the forest to cut some fire-wood, when the limb of a tree fell
on his head and broke his skull. He was brought home dead.
For a fortnight the mother wept day and night, and was inconsolable. At length it came strongly into her mind that
there was no use in grieving for the child, but that she had
great cause to grieve for her sins. From this time she began
to experience a change in her feelings. She ceased to mourn
for her loss, and sorrowed for her guilt, until God manifested
himself as reconciled through Jesus Christ. As the people
living on the mountain were entirely destitute of preaching,
we proposed to have the neighbours collected in the evening;
when Mr. Gillett preached to them  on the doctrine of
Election.
" Next day we took the road to Enfield, a Shaker village.
as we were all desirous to see and converse with this strange
people. We arrived about noon, and found all the shops
closed, as the men were out clearing new ground; with the




246                  SHELBURNE.
exception of the Elders, who never put their hands to any
labour."
It is a fact not generally known, that shortly after his
return home, and through the influence of Judge Niles, Mr.
Alexander received the appointment of Phillips Professor of
Theology in Dartmouth College.  The book of the Trustees
shows that this election took place at the Annual Meeting
in August, 1802. From Hanover he went to Shelburne,
upon an invitation of the Rev. Mr. Packard, afterwards Dr.
Packard.  "I was the more willing to do this," he writes,
"' as Mr. P. had just received a letter from home, informing
him that a revival had commenced in one part of his parish.
At Westminster, we found, very appropriately, an Assembly
of Divines. The Congregational ministers of New Hampshire were met in General Association. During my stay of
a fortnight with my friend Packard, he never preached once
in his own church. Besides the services of the Sabbath, we
had meetings on week days in several parts of the congregation. We also visited from house to house, where there were
any under serious impressions. One thing in the exercises
and conduct of the awakened surprised me. They sat still
and believed it improper to pray or use any means except
hearing, until they received the gift of a new heart. I
preached as usual, and exhorted inquirers to pray, read, &c.
Two cases among the awakened I must mention, because
they were brought to my remembrance many years afterward, in a very pleasing way. At the house of a Mr. Fisk,
iwe found his wife and daughter in the deepest distress, yet
using no means, but sitting still and waiting for the convert.




REVIVAL.                  24"I
ing influences of the Spirit. Both were convinced of their lost
estate and utter helplessness, taking all the blame to themselves. The next day, as the assembly could not be accommodated within, I preached in an orchard. Before I began
I perceived Mrs. Fisk walking briskly towards the table on
which I stood, and the first glance I had of her countenance
assured me that her feelings had undergone a change. I
intimated this to Mr. Packard, who immediately after the
service spoke to her and found that she was full of joy and
love.   Many years after this, the Iev. Pliny Fisk, the
missionary to Palestine, called upon me, telling me that he
came at the request of his mother, who had enjoined it upon
him, if he ever should be within fifty miles of me, to make
himself known as a son of the woman who was converted
while I was in Shelburne.
" On another day we stopped at the house of an old man,
also named Fisk, who had a son with a large family living in
the same house with him. One of the children, about nine
or ten years of age, was under serious impressions, and was
called up for us to converse with him. After a longer period
than the one above mentioned, and long after I had known
the Rev. Dr. Ezra Fisk, of Goshen, he one day asked me if
I remembered talking with a boy in Shelburne, describing
the circumstances. And on my replying that I did, he said,'I am that boy.' Harvey Fisk, once my pupil, and afterwards much engaged in the service of the American Sunday
School Union, informed me that another person by the name
of Fisk, who became a minister and was eminent for his
piety, dated his conversion from the same revival.




248            NEW YORK-NEW JERSEY.
" The people of Shelburne seemed reluctant to part with
me. The pastor and a number of others accompanied me
to Conway, the next town, where I was to preach for old MIr.
Emerson, who had been unable to walk for many months.
He was a meek and pious man, of the old school of Puritans,
and an uncle of the Emerson of Boston, who became a
Unitarian.  He told me that the father of the latter was a
pious and orthodox man; and that when he had reminded
his nephew of this, the reply was, that if his father had
lived to this time, he would in like manner have changed his
opinions. Here I found many sincere and benevolent persons; but I could observe that I was no longer under the
cloud which showered its blessingrs over Shelburne. Leaving,
the higher parts of Massachusetts, I descended to the valley
of the Connecticut, and soon found myself in Northampton,
the town made memorable by President Edwards. At Hatfield I called on Dr. Lyman, whom I had seen before."  At
Hartford he again visited Dr. Strong, who engaged himn to
write for the Connecticut Magazine. At his request, Dr.
George Baxter contributed to this work an account of the
great revival in the South. By easy stages he continued
his homeward way, through New Haven and the towns upon
the Sound to the city of New-York.  Here he preached on
a Lord's Day evening in the Brick Church, for Dr. Rodgers.
The next day was partly spent at:Newark, with the venerable Dr. McWhorter, after which he proceeded to Elizabethtown, and visited the Rev. Henry Kollock, at the house of
his father. It was a favourite plan of Mr. Kollock to have
his friend settled in the congregation of Orange, but the
steps taken by him were unsuccessful.




COMMENChMENT AT PRINCETON.          249
Princeton was visited in the return, and the following
narrative, which has been already printed, is here in place.
" Princeton was taken in my journey homeward. In this
town, likewise, it was no easy matter to find a place to lay
my head, so great was the concourse of strangers. But my
friend Mr. Henry Kollock, afterwards distinguished as a
preacher, and who had recently been a tutor in the college,
kindly introduced me to the house of old Mrs. Knox, where
the students of divinity had their abode.
" The appearance of the Trustees and Professors struck
me with awe. I seriously question whether such a body of
men, for dignity and importance, as- then composed the
Board could have been found in any part of the country. I
need only name Dr. McWhorter, Elias Boudinot, LL. D.,
John Bayard, Esq., Dr. John Woodhull, the Hon. William
Paterson, Dr. Green, the Rev. James F. Armstrong, the
Hon. Richard Stockton, Governor Bloomfield, and Judge
Wallace. The class then commencing Bachelors of Arts
included the late Mr. Biddle, Mr. Robert Goodloe Harper,
the Rev. Andrew Thompson, Mr. Henry E. Watkins, Professor Cook of Kentucky, the Rev. Dr. Johnson of Newburgh,
and the Rev. Dr. John McDowell of Philadelphia.
" The President, Dr. Samuel Stanhope Smith, I had met
in Philadelphia, six or seven years before; and certainly,
viewing him as in his meridian, I have never seen his equal
in elegance of person and manners. Dignity and winning
grace were remarkably united in his expressive countenance.
His large blue eye had a penetration which commanded the
respect of all beholders. Notwithstanding the want of




250            COLLEGE OF NEW JERSEY.
health, his clleek had a bright rosy tint, and his smile
lighted up the whole face. The tones of his elocution had a
thrilling peculiarity, and this was more remarkable in his
preaching, where it is well known that he imitated the
elaborate polish and oratorical glow of the French school.
Little of this impression can be derived from his published
discourses, which disappoint those who d3 not know the
charm of his delivery.
" On this occasion Dr. Smith appeared to great advantage, for though he had passed his acme, he was erect and
full of spirits. The fornmality used in the collation of degrees does not appear to be of much importance, but with
the sonorous voice and imposing mien of President Smith, it
added dignity to the scene, and left an indelible impression.
" The College of New Jersey at that time contained some
young men who were far above the ordinary level of attainments; distinguished for a high sense of honour, which preserved them from the despicable courses in which misguided
youth sometimes seek distinction.  It was gratifying to observe, that these young men were the favourites of the President, and that, in their turn, they were strongly attached
to him. Some of them still live, to reflect honour on their
Alma Mater; but I will not nanle those who occur to me,
lest I do an unintentional injustice to the rest. Some, alas,
are extinct; but some may be found shining as stars, with
a mild but brilliant lustre, in the civil as well as the ecclesiastical firmament.
" Doctor John Maclean, a native of Scotland, after pursuing the path of science with indefatigable zeal, so far as it




PROFESSOR MACLEAN.               251
was open to him in Edinburgh and Glasgow, visited France,
that he might avail himself of the increased facilities afforded
for physical researches in the schools of Paris. After accomplishing this purpose, Dr. Maclean emigrated to America,
in 1795, and became one of the most popular professors who
ever graced the college. He was at home almost equally in
all branches of science; Chemistry, Natural History, Mathematics and Natural Philosophy, successively claimed his
attention. It is believed that he was one of the first to reproduce in America the views of the new French school in
Chemistry: on this subject he waged a successful war with
Dr. Priestley, the great champion for phlogiston. No one
could attend a commencement at Princeton, without perceiving that Professor Maclean was, as it were, the soul of the
faculty. He enjoyed the attachment of all the students,
unless perhaps some of the idle and abandoned; it is these
who, in all colleges, display the opposite temper.
" At the time of my visit, Dr. Maclean was in the prime
of life, a gentleman of fine appearance, polished manners,
and a disposition remarkable for kindness and cordiality. He
is now remembered, as the students' friend, with sincere and
tender attachment, by many of his surviving pupils. It is
no part of these paragraphs, to follow any of the persons
named into their subsequent life, but only to note these incidents of a day which was full of interest. After the other
honorary degrees had been announced, the Trustees, by a
consultation at the moment on the stage, agreed to confer
on the writer the degree of Master of Arts; an act, which,
it seems, was never entered on their minutes; and in




252              RETURN TO VIRGINIA.
the evening he was initiated into the American Whig
Society.":  On this occasion he was accompanied to Princeton by Mr. Kollock, and Mr. Beasley, afterwards Provost of
the University of Pennsylvania.
In Philadelphia he preached for Dr. Linn, whose health
was impaired.  In Baltimore he stopped with his old preceptor, Dr. Priestley, already mentioned in these pages. He
was further detained to supply the pulpit of Dr. Alison, who
had sunk into a melancholy state. The impression made by
these services, as will presently appear, was such as made it
likely for a while that his lot might be cast in Baltimore;
and the remembrance of them was long cherished in that
city. After this he hastened to Hopewell, where arrangements were made for his approaching marriage.
In the retrospect of this tour, he was accustomed to
speak of it as one of the most agreeable and instructive portions of his life.  That part of it which brought him into
acquaintance with New England, its clergy, its manners and
its revivals, he always recurred to with pleasure. To this
may be traced the remarkable absence of all prejudice and
rancour which marked his feelings and language towards the
churches of that land.  Of their hospitality he used to
speak in warm terms, and as to the inquisitiveness which he
had been taught to expect from the people, he declared it to
be less than he had encountered in his native State. And
although he spent but a few months in that region, the mode
of travelling which he employed, and the intimate relations
* Princeton M3agazine, 1850.




CALL TO BALTIMORE.               253
he sustained to ministers and private families, afforded far
better opportunity for observation than a much longer time,
passed in the modern methods of speedy transit, and sojourn
at places of public entertainment.  In moments of relaxation at the fireside, his fund of anecdote concerning this tour
was inexhaustible; and he loved to recall these scenes on
occasions when he was visited by friends from that'part of
the country.
His return to Prince Edward and to the College was
hailed with much cordiality, and the old president's house
was put into repair, in expectation of his new relations.
During the winter of 1801-2, he spent most of his time
in Charlotte, under the hospitable roof of Major Read.
His preaching labours were abundant, and were attended
with some success.
In the year 1801, on his return from New England, he
passed a night, as has been said, at the house of Dr. Priestly,
who was at that time a member of the First Church in Baltimore. As Dr. Alison, the pastor, was then in feeble health,
MIr. Alexander, somewhat reluctantly, consented to remain
and preach, as there was but one intervening day before the
Sabbath. Early on MIonday morning he proceeded on his
journey, but having acquaintances in Alexandria he stopped
there, and found the Presbytery of Baltimore in session;
before whom he preached at their request. Before he left
the place, letters were received both by himself and Dr.
Muir, requesting him to return to Baltimore and preach
for several weeks. At the urgent request of Dr. Muir and




254              CALL TO BALTIMORE.
other clergymen, he complied. The result was, that after
his arrival at home he received a call to be the pastor of
that church.




CHAPTER ELEVENTH.
1802- 1806,
MARRIAGE-COLLEGE LABOURS-PREACHIING —CALL TO PHILADELPIHIA. —SETTLEMEINT IN PINE-STREET CIIHURCH-LABOURS IN PHILADELPHIAEVANGELICAL SOCIETY-ASSOCIATES-STUDIES-PROGRESS.
fON the fifth day of April, 1802, he was married to
Janetta Waddel, daughter of the Rev. Dr. Waddel of
the county of Louisa. It may be safely said that no man
was ever more blessed in such a connection. If the uncommon beauty and artless grace of this lady were strong
attractions in the days of youth, there were higher qualities
which made the union inexpressibly felicitous during almost
half a century. For domestic wisdom, self-sacrificing affection, humble piety, industry, inexhaustible stores of vivacious
conversation, hospitality to his friends, sympathy with his
cares, and love to their children, she was such a gift as God
bestows only on the most favoured. While during a large
part of middle life he was subject to a variety of maladies,
she was preserved in unbroken health. When his spirits
flagged, she was always prompt and skilful to cheer and




256              LABOURS IN VIRGINIA.
comfort. And as his days were filled with spiritual and
literary toils, she relieved him from the whole charge of
domestic affairs. Without the show of any conjugal blandishments, there was through life a perfect coincidence of
views, and a respectful affection which may be recommended
as a model.  It pleased God to spare to him  this faithful
ministry of revering love to the very last, and when the
earthly tie was broken to make the separation short.
In the month of 5May, 1802, he removed to Hampden
Sidney, and resumed his charge of the college.  Mr. Rice
was still his principal coadjutor, as Mr. Speece had removed
to a pastoral charge in Maryland. Of the ensuing years we
have slender records. Their colour was probably not very
different from  those which have been noticed.  Besides the
perpetual demand for pulpit labours, in a region where to
this day ministers travel far to preach the Word, there was
a necessity for unwearied application to the difficult branches
of public instruction. His field of knowledge was enlarging
its limits, and his opinions on all subjects were taking their
settled forms. Having resided in the same region many years
since, we can testify that his reputation as a preacher was
extraordinary.  Making all the abatements which may be
needful, it must still be acknowledged that for vigour. animation and charm of delivery, his efforts at this time were surpassed by none during his whole career. His health had beer
invigorated, he had acquired a confidence which had been
wanting in his earlier efforts, his person was attractive, and
the vehemence and decoration of discourse were greater than
in later years.
18




KENTUCKY REVIVAL.                257
The letters of this time which remain are few indeed,
which enhances the value of that which follows, short as it is,
MR. ALEXANDER TO MRS. GRAHAM.
"IIAMPDEN SIDNEY July 19, 1803.
"DEAR SISTER:"By John Chavis I received yours, and pass over
all the rest to answer that part in which you express some
uneasiness at my entertaining doubts respecting the genuineness of the Kentucky revival.
"In answer, I observe, that I have never at any time
expressed such doubts, though it is more than probable that
I have said what some would suppose to indicate such a state
of mind. I have not doubted that much good has been
done in that country, and that a considerable number have
experienced true religion. All these effects I attribute
without hesitation to God. And in proportion as I obtain
evidence of the existence of such effects, I am confirmed in
the opinion that the Spirit of God has been poured out.
But I have supposed, and now think, that those extraordinary bodily appearances furnish no evidence of a saving
operation of the Holy Spirit. If I should not be able to account for them upon common and natural principles, I yet
have no right to ascribe them to the immediate agency of
divine power, unless they are among effects promised to be
produced. If no stress be laid on them, I have nothing to
say in relation to them. If they furnish no evidence in
avour of a work being of God, they can, I presume, afford




258              CALL TO THE NORTH.
none that it is not. If they are ranked with tears, crying,
&c., the common effects of religious passions, I am neither
offended with them, nor am I much delighted with them. I
have moreover supposed, and do still suppose, that many
measures were adopted by the conductors of this work,
which were imprudent and unwarrantable.  When people
are under strong religious impressions, there is more need of
regulation and restraint than of encouragement. To give an
instance-six or ten persons exhorting at once-five hundred
praying as loud as they can cry; these things occurred
in Carolina. M1y opinion is that the fruit of this revival
will by no means answer the appearances, and that the declension will be so apparent, that the unbelieving will be
greatly hardened. In all these opinions, however, I have a
reserve. I have not been an eye-witness to the work; if I
were, I might judge differently of many things.
" I remain your affectionate brother,
c" A. A.."
" About this time," says he, " the conduct of the students
became very irregular, and I grew weary of governing them.
I had been invited in the spring of 1806, to visit the Third
Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia, made vacant by the
removal of Dr. Milledoler to New-York.* I declined the
invitation, but in September I was again requested to visit
the city, as there was no hope of fixing upon any other
candidate. This came just at the time when our students
* The call was approved by the Presbytery, Oct. 22,t 1806.




RETROSPECT OF VIRGINIA.            259
were in a state of much turbulence and insubordination.
Without consulting any of my friends, I set out for Philadelphia, where I preached for two Sabbaths as well as during
the week."  The result was a unanimous call to the church
in Pine Street. Immediately on his return home he procured a meeting of the Presbytery, and the Trustees of
the College met on the same day, when he requested to
be dismissed from both charges. In all this proceeding he
seems to have acted with much decision of purpose; so that
his friends did not venture to lay any obstacle in his way,
while they were by no means convinced that he was wise in
the removal. The step was an important one, as it severed
bim from his native State, and led the way to those more
important engagements as a theological instructor, for which
Providence had all along been preparing him.
In subsequent years, and even to the close of his life, he
recurred to these years of ministry in Virginia with fond
emotion. They were connected with his most animating
labours and most visible success. He never could cease to
lament the loss of that peculiar warmth and cordiality which
belonged to Southern Christians; and he was often heard to
say, that although he believed he had attained greater usefulness by his removal, he had sustained a great loss as to
personal and social comfort. In all those things which attract the observation of the public, these were his best days.
An exuberant hilarity made his companionship delightful,
as will be readily believed by those who remember the clear
loud laugh even of his latter years. The circumstances in
which he had grown up in his early ministry, among a




260                 CRITICAL TIME.
number of active and inquiring minds, rendered controversy
inevitable; and we can recall the days in which debates
on theological topics were carried to all the lengths of excitement, which are not inconsistent with good nature and
Christian friendship. We regard the period which we now
bring to a close, as that in which, with regard to every impor.
tant trait and faculty, his mind and character took theii
form. Wider range of knowledge, richer stores of accumulation, sounder experience, keener sagacity, more prophetic
forecast, there may have come with advancing years, but in
whatsoever can attract in the man, or impress in the preacher,
he was just now at a point of culmination.
Another remark is still more obvious; this was the
eventful period of his life. From this time forward, and especially after the single remove to New Jersey, there was no
more change of place or occupation, but life flowed on in a
placid current. Up to this time on the contrary, events had
followed one another in very rapid succession. Indeed, from
his very boyhood, he may be said to have been in a continual
change. This served in a very remarkable degree to form
his character, to enlarge his views, to afford sides of approach
to various persons and influences, and to redeem him for all
his years of study from every thing like the narrowness,
pedantry and stiffness of the schools and the closet. As it
regards the most important of all qualifications, it may be
affirmed without hesitation, that these were years of spiritual
advancement. He was incessantly engaged in efforts to do
good as an instructor of youth and as a preacher, in public
and private. The savour of his unobtrusive piety remained




JOURNEY.                   261
as a holy fragrance in that part of the church, long after he
had removed from it, and a few aged persons still survive,
who love to relate how his face seemed to shine from acts
of private communion, and how his discourse, even more
freely than in later years, broke forth in eloquent and pathetic appeals upon divine subjects. We are induced to
believe that the very trains of thought, which went to constitute those practical sermons, which were singularly admirable for the intertexture of doctrine and experience, were
constructed during the meditations and labours of this period.
By all this process, God was preparing him for the important
post, at which his closing years were to be spent.
Having determined to leave Virginia, Mr. Alexander
hastened to effect a speedy settlement in his new home.
His little family had already been taken to Hopewell, and
did not return to Prince Edward.
We have happily recovered a letter to Mrs. Graham, which
supplies some facts of this period.  "We set out from Dr.
Waddel's," so he writes in 1807, CC on November 24th, and
reached Philadelphia on the Sth of December; the roads were
deep and the weather unfavourable.  We were detained two
days in Fauquier by high water, and two more at Leesburg
by bad roads. At the last mentioned place, Mr. Mines is
settled, but his situation is by no means comfortable. His
expectations have not been realized, either as to support
or usefulness. We staid at his house, and were treated with
the greatest kindness. There are here some excellent Christians, and upon the whole, the village contains as many respectable families as any one of the same size in Virginia.




262             PROVIDENTIAL MEETING.
"Before I left Prince Edward, I wrote to the people
here to meet me with a carriage at Little York, expecting
to arrive there by the first day of December; but we were so
much retarded by the causes already stated, that we were
still in Virginia at the appointed time.  After passing
Fredericktown a few miles, the axle-tree of our carriage
snapped in two, and we were obliged to walk half a mile
back to get to a house, and to contrive some means of getting the carriage to Fredericktown to be mended. We felt
very little disconcerted, although the prospect was gloomy.
I left Janetta and the children in the house, and took a
young man back with me to the carriage. We were engaged in fastening it as well as we could, when I lifted up
my eyes and saw an empty carriage approaching. As soon
as I saw it I said,' There is the carriage from Philadelphia,
which was to meet us!' And so it was.  We now understood the reason why our axle-tree broke; for half a mile
before us there was an ugly little river which had been much
swollen by the rains, and which we should have crossed with
danger, our horses being jaded. Besides, on that very night
a very heavy snow began to fall, through which we could
have made no progress without an excellent driver and good
horses; and we were much pleased to have it in our power
to send Scipio home from this place instead of taking him
further, as something might have happened to him. So this
little disaster, as it seemed at first, gave us much pleasure
in the end. The remainder of our journey was dreadful, as
to roads and weather, but we suffered no injury. Janetta
wearied herself in carrying William more than was necessary




SLAVERY.                    263
but she and the children remained perfectly well, and through
God's blessing are so still. As for myself, I caught a violent
cold in Leesburg which affected my breast very much, as I
had much preaching to do upon nay arrival here. Living
in a large city has in it many things agreeable to me, and
some which are not. My principal objection to it is, that I
am not sufficiently master of my own time; but this inconvenience is of course greater just now than it will be hereafter. Our people are, with few exceptions, of the middling
class. They do not affect the modes of high life, but glory
in being plain and unceremonious.  They are remarkable
for attachment to their minister, and for affection to one
another. There is not a person in the congregation who is
not friendly to warm evangelical preaching; and this they
must have fresh from the mint, for they are greater enemies
to the reading of sermons than the Virginians themselves.
I find that Dr. Smith's and Dr. Milledoler's labours have
been uncommonly useful. We have also some hopeful appearances at present. The attention to preaching is great,
and a few persons seem to be impressed."
His connection with the institution of slavery was not
such as to present any serious hinderance to removal, but
one of its incidents is too instructive to be omitted.  There
was in the family a young woman named Daphne, who had
been the attendant of Mrs. Alexander from her childhood,
and was treated more as a friend than a servant.  When it
was left to her choice, she determined to accompany her
master and mistress to the North; and as she had been
married to a young man in Prince Edward, she went with




264                   DAPHNE.
hopes that he might in some way obtain his freedom. We
shall anticipate so far as to complete her remarkable story.
Soon after arrival in Philadelphia, she found many, some
being of the Society of Friends, who deeply sympathized
with her in the separation from her husband; and there
were some who proposed that she should go round among
the benevolent with a subscription towards his redemption
from slavery. John Boatman was regarded as a valuable
servant, and was accordingly held at a high price; but the
money was raised, and the master struck off something from
the sum which he might have obtained. John, who was a
brawny and ill-favoured black, was sent on to accompany
the family in travelling northward. Mr. Alexander kept
them both as hired servants upon wages. But John discovered that he could procure larger amounts elsewhere, and
was immediately released to become the coachman of Governor McKean. Daphne, who was of light complexion and
persuasive manners, began to associate with the ladies of
colour in Philadelphia, and learned to entertain more lofty
thoughts. She soon left her kind protectors and set up for
herself. The husband went rapidly astray, forsook his wife,
and was cast into prison. Daphne fell into ill health, became unable to work, and at length found a place in the
almshouse. Here she was during the earlier part of Dr. AIb
exander's residence in Princeton. During her retreat in
this public institution she was led to reflect on the quiet and
case which she had enjoyed under a nominal bondage, so
that when she was visited by two daughters of Dr. Waddel,
she embraced with joy the proposal that she should return




RETURN TO BONDAGE.               265
and find a shelter amidst the scenes of her youth, where her
mother and several brothers and sisters still lived. " We
agreed," says Dr. Alexander, "to make up among us the
sum which was necessary. But I told her that she could
not go back as a free woman, as the laws prohibited the
return of free negroes to the State; but that she knew what
freedom was, and what slavery was, and might again exercise
her choice whether to remain free or to go back as a slave.
There had been no formal act of manumission when she was
brought away.  She did not hesitate a moment.  She knew
that she had never been a slave except in name, and she
felt a strong desire to be with her kindred and the children
of her young master." Daphne accordingly returned, and
has found a happy home ever since in the family of Dr. Addison Waddel of Staunton, working for herself and going
wherever she pleases. She still survives at the time of the.
present writing, and has always borne the character of an
affectionate and humble Christian.
Resuming our narrative, we have to state that Mr. Alexander has recorded his belief that the suddenness of his removal was not without some human impatience and precipitancy.  " But," he adds, "what I did rashly, Providence
ordered for good." Upon arriving in Philadelphia he found
himself embarrassed by the novelty of his domestic circumstances, and the common difficulty of obtaining proper servants. He moreover began his labours with a violent cold,
which, however, did not prevent his opening his new career
of labour. He was received as a member of the Presbytery
of Philadelphia on the 21st of April, 1807. His installa



266            IMPRESSIONS OF THE CITY.
tion as pastor took place on the 20th of the next month;
on which occasion the Rev. George C. Potts delivered the
customary sermon, the Rev. Jacob J. Janeway presided and
gave the charge to the minister, and the Rev. James P.
Wilson, D. D. gave the charge to the people.
MR. ALEXANDER TO MRS. GRAHAM.
"PHILADELPHIIA, Iarch 5, 1807.' DEAR SISTER:
"'My time is very much occupied here, but the
business on which my duty obliges me to attend is not disagreeable. Almost every day some sick persons are to be
visited. Funerals are frequently to be attended, and sometimes persons under spiritual trouble apply in order that they
may be advised and comforted. There is a very wrong
opinion frequently entertained of congregations in such a
place as this; as if all the members were well informed
people. The truth is, there is much less religious knowledge
among the bulk of the people here than in the country.
Multitudes grow up with very little knowledge of the doctrines of religion, and many after they are grown join themselves to a congregation by taking pews, who were never
instructed at all. These require very plain preaching, and
when they become serious need to be taught the very first
principles of the doctrine of Christ.
"I have just now returned from visiting a woman, who
sent for me to converse about her being baptized, as this
had been neglected in her infancy. I found her very ignorant of every thing except that she felt herself to be a lost




PASTORAL CASES.                267
sinnei, and trusted in Christ alone for salvation.  She was
so affected when she attempted to speak, that she could
utter only a few words at a time. She handed me a book,
which she said contained a description of her exercises. It
contained Wright on the New Birth, and Haweis on the Sacrament, bound together. I had never seen either of them,
and therefore looked a little into the volume, and found it to
be sound and very plain. I told her it was well, and that I
would baptize her on the next occasion.
"This morning I was a good deal encouraged by an account which I saw in a letter from a gentleman in East
Jersey to his cousin, one of our elders. This man paid a
visit to his cousin in this city last month; and although he
was deistically inclined, and never went to a place of worship
at home, he was induced by his relative, who is fervent in
piety, to attend our meetings. Since he went home, he has
written that he has determined to turn his attention to religion and to change his manner of life. He was educated in
Glasgow for the ministry, but became skeptical, as his
cousin informs me, and devoted himself to trade.  We have
several instances of awakening and hopeful conversion since
I arrived here. Two men, particularly, who were considered
the most worldly in their disposition of any in their circle,
have become serious. One of these professes to have experienced a thorough change. The other has been almost in
despair, but begins now to be a little comforted. I have frequently visited a man and his wife, who appeared to me as
ignorant as any I ever saw in a gospel land; but they have,
I trust, obtained eyes to see; and knowledge may be ex



268                 PHILADELPHIA.
pected to follow of course. I have attempted to mention
the principal encouraging cases which have fallen under my
observation. But I do not yet know one [half of my] people.
They do not know one another; for [many of them] never
meet any where but at church. Among the poor I have
found some choice spirits, real heirs of the kingdom; one
man in particular, who is too infirm to come out, and who
[is supported by the]. congregation, edifies me every time I
call to see him, and is all alive in religion. I find myself
greatly benefited by my visits to the sick and afflicted; and
it leads me to preach in a strain which otherwise I should
not have thought suitable to a great city. My love to all
friends. Grace, mercy and peace be with you and yours.
"A. A."
TO THE SAME.
"PIILADELPIIIA, Jan. 23, 1811.
"C DEAR SISTER:
" Religion in this place is at present in a languid
rather than a thriving state. The additions to the church
have been less considerable during the last year than for any
year since I came here. Mr. Burch continues here, and is, I
think, very useful. His people are still fond of him, and
are building a beautiful church.  People at a distance are
much mistaken about the kind of preaching which suits
this place. Some congregations, it is true, require men of the
best learning and talents, but many others demand preaching
of the plainest kind, and less learning and polish than almost
any country congregation however remote. WVe need at this
time another preacher of the same stamp as Mr. Burch, to
Dreach to the Peonle in the suburbs.




CITY CLERGY.                 269
"We have been pleasing ourselves with the prospect of a
trip to Virginia next summer; but whether our hopes shall
be realized remains to be discovered. If we should be able to
accomplish our wish, you may expect to see us in August.
Time glides rapidly along; year succeeds year in swift succession. We must soon begin to descend towards the grave,
according to the general course of nature. Lately, as it
seems in the retrospect, we were young; but soon, if our
lives are prolonged, we shall be old. Well, if we can but
live usefully and die comfortably, we need not be concerned
how soon we finish this pilgrimage.
"A. A."
The materials for constructing a full and connected narrative of this new period are unfortunately wanting.  Dr.
Alexander seldom retained a copy of his own letters. And
what is still more painfully felt by us in prosecuting our
work, the autobiography breaks off about this point, and we
henceforward journey on without the guiding thread of his
own record which has thus far conducted us.
Philadelphia, though far less populous than in our day,
was nevertheless the chief city of the land, and was distinguished as for many years the permanent seat of the
General Assembly.  Its churches were among the most
distinguished in our communion, and were served by clergymen of note. There were at this time four Presbyterian
congregations. The pastor of the First Church was the
Rev. James P. Wilson, D. D., in some respects one of the
most remarkable ministers whom our connection has produced. After having been a lawyer for fifteen years, he




270              THE THIRD CHURCH.
devoted himself to the work of preaching the Gospel, and
laboured with great acceptance and the admiration of many
cultivated minds, until the decline of health brought his
active service to a close, when he was succeeded by the Rev.
Albert Barnes. Dr. Wilson was a man of varied and recondite learning. Between him and Mr. Alexander there
were many sympathies, and a familiar literary commerce
was kept up between them. Both were strongly inclined to
the study of language, in which Dr. W. was a great proficient, and both addicted themselves to Scriptural exegesis,
which was then beginning to receive the new lights of continental editors and critics. They had moreover a community
of interest as to their mode of preaching, for at this time,
both exercised their pulpit gifts without the use of any manuscript. The Second Church, then at the corner of Third and
Arch streets, had for its pastors the Reverend Drs. Green and
Janeway as colleagues. Dr. Green was an able and popular
preacher, and always threw his influence decidedly into the
scale of vital piety.  Dr. Janeway, who was like-minded,
still lives in an honourable old age. The pastor of the Fourth
Church was the Rev. George C. Potts, a clergyman of great
worth and benevolence, for whom Dr. Alexander retained a
warm regard as long as he lived.
The Third Presbyterian Church was not distinguished
in any worldly sense. It was in the southern part of the
city proper, and at that time contained a great number of
persons from the neighbourhood of the Navy-yard, with a
goodly proportion of shipmasters and pilots. The predominating ingredient in the congregation was the old-fashioned




RULING ELDERS.                271
Scotch ana Irish Presbyterianism, with its salient points of
good and evil, with which the new pastor was familiar. There
was all possible zeal or tenacity respecting covenanted
doctrine and ancient usage, with a disposition on the part
of some to look with distrust on hortatory preaching, and
any measures toward revival, as savouring of newlight and
methodism.  The communion seasons were like those of
Scotland, with long tables and'tokens.' There were not
wanting, however, some bright specimens of a piety which has
never flourished more than among Christians of this lineage.
But the situation was one fitted to make a young Virginian
minister feel the transition from a religious climate of great
fervour and freedom.
Amon^g the excellent private Christians who were members of this church, Mr. James Stuart deserves honourable
mention. He was a native of Ireland, and long occupied
the place of ruling elder. To a natural temperament of great
ardency, he added evangelical knowledge and a remarkable
disposition to be useful. He was gifted in prayer, assiduous
and affectionate among the poor and suffering, and a valuable
aid to his pastor. It is but a few years since he died, full
of years, and venerated by all who knew him. Mr. John
McMullin was another elder; a man of gentle manners, unfeigned piety, and unusual consistency of character. Capt.
Benjamin Wickes belonged to the same church; he was well
known as one of the few truly religious captains who in that
day sailed from our ports, and was honoured with the charge
of conducting numerous missionaries to the East Indies and
China. Joseph Eastburn, the first who devoted attention




272                CORRESPONDENCE.
to the spiritual wants of seamen, was forward in every good
work at this day, and was in close intimacy with Mr. Alexander. With some families of his congregation he maintained
affectionate relations to the very close of life; and among
these a prominent place is due to the name of Mr. Thomas
M. Hall, in whose house even after the decease of this worthy
man he was a welcome guest for more than forty years.
A brisk epistolary exchange continued to be kept up with
his bosom friends Rice and Speece.  Of letters written by
the former, we have more than fifty, being all that remain
of some hundreds.  These show that their communications
turned on matters of experimental and ministerial religion
and on literature; and they evince a zeal in the pursuit of
knowledge under difficulties, which is as rare as it is stimulating.  These earnest young men employed their friend,
as near the learned marts, to be on the watch for books in
every department.  In 1808, we find Mr. Rice writing for
Eusebius and Wetstein; and in 1810, saying, " Yes, Sir!
If it please God to give me health and strength, I am resolved to be master of those languages in which the truths
of Divine revelation were originally recorded, and I am very
anxious to get all the helps in these studies that can possibly
be procured. I must beg your assistance in this business.
If you will accept of it, I hereby give you carte blanc7he, a
fiull commission to buy for me, at any price that you think
proper to give, any book which you can find, that it will iL
your opinion be important for me to have. I have been
very anxious to get Horsley's new Translation of' Hosea.
Are any copies to be found in your city? Be on the. watch,
19




RELIGIOUS I OVEL.               273
if you please, for a Syriac New Testament, for Trommnius's
Concordance, for Wetstein's Greek Testament; I do not
know whether it is worth while to mention Calasio's Conccrdance, and Michaelis's Hebrew Bible. I question if they are
by any means to be obtained."
A literary project of Mr. Alexander, which he had entertained before leaving Virginia, was matter of much entertainment in his little circle of intimates. He had begun, and
perhaps had completed, a work of fiction, answering exactly
to what has since been called the religious novel. Itwas entitled " Eudocia," and purported to be the history of a young
lady of wealth and beauty, who is led through various changes
and degrees, from giddy ignorance to piety and peace. The
plot was engaging; there was a thread of romantic but pure
love, running through the whole; it abounded in graphic
description and lively dialogue. Some of the scenes were
eminently pathetic; and Mr. Speece was known to burst
into tears, when it was read aloud.  The whole was made
subservient to the inculcation of evangelical truth.  The
author finally determined to suppress it.  The manuscript
was not destroyed, but the delay-beyond the nonumn prematur~ in annum-resulted in the destruction of more than
one half. What remains would fill a good duodecimo. The
allusions which follow will now be manifest.
MR, SPEECE TO MR. ALEXANDER.
"POWnIATAN, August 15, 1808.' DEAR SIR:
" I received your acceptable and instructive sermon
some timhe ago in Prince Edward, where Dr. tIall left it for




274              MR1J. SPEECE' S LETTER.
me on his way home. But your letter of June 8, I did not
get, till two days ago. The single reason of my not having
written to you during so long a time, was the want of any
matter which I could think sufficiently interesting. I persuaded myself, however, that you as well as I could conceive
how an affectionate regard might subsist between distant
friends, though there were not a frequent intercourse by
letter.
"Your approbation of my presbyterial sermon affords
me much pleasure. I will remark to you that one reason of
my swelling that sermon with so many long doctrinal paragraphs, was a wish to remove some suspicions, which you
perhaps remember, that I was verging too much towards
Arminianism.  I have given a kind of confession of my
faith, and hope the motive I have mentioned was not improper.
" I am delighted with the prospect of seeing your sweet
Eudocia presented to the public.  Before I received your
letter I had resolved to write to you soon, principally to entreat
that the door which confined her might be opened, that she
might walk forth for the entertainment and edification of
the world.  I hope the humorous and satirical parts of the
work will be retained.  They will be useful in themselves,
and will render the book alluring to a larger number of
readers. And though I should not like to differ in a point
of taste from Mrs. Alexander, allow me to put in a word in
behalf of the dream, or dreams, which you read to me from
the manuscript. Dream    ig is indeed a delicate subject, both
in philosophy and religion.  But we believe that God does




MR. SPEECE'S LETTER.             275
sometimes speak to men,'in dreams and visions of the
night,' to fasten important instruction upon their hearts.
"I have been long collecting ideas for a dissertation on
Liberty and Necessity; not to increase the mass of metaphysical subtilties on the subject, but if possible to diminish
it. But I have another design in hand, more likely to be
executed; namely, to write a sermon or dissertation on the
doctrine of Election. Presumptuous as it may appear, I
cannot but think I could produce something more satisfactory than I have met with on that doctrine; especially in
the business of answering objections against it.
"-Our Magazine is dead indeed; solely, I think, for want
of zeal in the members of our Synod. I have long believed
it possible to make a better one, under the auspices of
Hanover Presbytery.  The plan you suggest deserves attention. I had thought of trying to get a suitable printer,
who should be furnished with matter and editorial direction,
and print and distribute the work at his own charge, and for
his own sole profit. The times are so discouraging to most
things which require money, that I fear we can do nothing
shortly in such a design. Mr. Hoge's reputation as a
preacher is rising rapidly with the public, and I hope he will
do well as the president of the college.
" I have seen the collection of books which you purchased
for Mr. Rice. The cheapness of such a mass of literature
quite astonished me. When I can find an opportunity of
sending you some money, I shall probably request you to
exercise a similar kindness towards me.
I do not know any interesting news to send you from




276               MR. RICE'S LETTER.
this quarter, either on the state of religion, or any thing
else. Where is to be the end of Buonalparte's tremendous
career?  But our God reigns, and we will rejoice. Mention
to Mrs. Alexander my affectionate remembrance of her, and
believe me
"Yours sincerely,
" CONRAD SPEECE."
MR. RICE TO MR. ALEXANDER.' CHARLOTTE, January 28, 1810 
" MY DEAR SIR:"I sometimes feel backward to write to you, because I have so little to communicate that can be at all
interesting. But the pleasure which your letters afford me
is so great, that, frequently when I have no other reason, I
write that I may receive an answer from you, and hear something from  Mrs. Alexander and your boys. If you think
this is my motive at present, you will not wander far from
the mark.
"Three days ago I finished the perusal of'Coelebs.'
Miss Lightfoot Carrington, who is now in Richmond, met
with it there, and sent it to me.  I had often laughed at
her for spending so much time in reading novels. When she
got Coelebs,' Here,' says she,'is a novel at last which I know
that Mr. Rice will be pleased with;' and accordingly despatched it to Charlotte.  I read it with more pleasure than
any thing of the author's writing.  It delighted me; I trust
it improved me too. It put me much in mind of a certain
1Miss Eudocia, whom I have been longing to see for someo




MR. RICE'S LET'TER.             277
time past. The rage for novels is so great that I have long
wished to see that species of writing converted to a better
purpose. Miss Hannah More has very completely answered
my wishes, and has, by the way, obtained that credit with
the religious world which I think in all reason belonged tc
you. If you differ with me on this point, we will discuss it
after we shall have talked over this new-fashioned school
affair and other matters; which I hope to do in May next.
At that time 3Mr. Speece and I hope to be with you, and
then —! I give you notice that Mr. Speece will come with
his pockets loaded with money, in the full spirit of trade
I know that he intends to make some grand speculation, for
he has within the year past sold nearly two hundred dollars'
worth of books, with a view of taking the money to Philadelphia.
":I think the state of religion in this country worse by
some degrees than when you left it. Presbyterian congregations are decreasing every year, and appear as if they would
dwindle to nothing. The Baptists and Methodists are at a
stand. A strange apathy has seized the people. The judgments with which our nation has been visited, and the more
awful ones which impend, have produced no effect; or if
any, a most disastrous one. Instead of being a blessing they
are a curse. The people feel about nothing but money. As
to religion, the very stillness of death reigns amongst us. I
can find no resemblance to this part of the country, but in
Ezekiel's valley of dry bones. I am sure you do not forget
your old friends. Remember them, then, at the throne of




278            PREACHING IN THE CITY.
grace, and let me, particularly, have an interest in your
prayers.
"I am affectionately yours,
"~JOHN H. RICE."
The years spent in Philadelphia were doubtless impor4
tant both as to direct usefulness and the formation of
character. Yet a change thus abrupt brought with it not a
few privations and annoyances. His children were sickly,
the salary was small, the modes of domestic management
were novel and embarrassing, and he was often tempted to
wish himself back among the wide plantations and open
forests of Lower Virginia.  "But these," says he, "were
small matters. I enjoyed health, and had on the Sabbath
large assemblies of attentive people; and the preaching did
not seem altogether without saving effect. The congregation
appeared one and all to be pleased with my services, and
many strangers as well as members of other churches came
to hear me." It may be safely said, that these expressions
much underrate the degree of acceptance and popularity
which attended his public ministrations. The vivacity and
freedom of his discourses, always during this period pronounced without the aid of any manuscript, attracted very
general admiration; and their solid contents and evangelical
unction made them peculiarly welcome to experienced
Christians. He was, moreover, silently acquiring reputation
as a theologian, of original and clear views, and strict adherence to the Reformed tenets; and was thus preparing
for the important career for which he was destined by Providence.




LEARNED TOILS.                 279
Being now brought nearer to libraries, learned men and
the means of acquiring books, he entered with great freshness of zeal into several interesting walks of clerical study.
In every thing connected with the criticism and interpretation of the sacred text, he used assiduous application; taking
Hebrew lessons of a learned Jew, perusing the Septuagint,
collating other versions, and pushing more deeply those
researches which he had long before commenced, into the
original of the New Testament. His shelves began also tc
fill themselves with those folios and quartos, bound in vellum, of Latin theology, which always continued to be characteristic of his library. In some departments of learning
he was no doubt surpassed by many of his brethren; but it
is believed that none of his coevals had read more extensively in the theology of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; including Romanist and Lutheran, as well as Reformed divines. The practice of preaching without writing
produced in him one of its ordinary effects, namely, an indisposition to commit his thoughts to paper. Consequently
his judgment and taste in composition so much outstripped
his ability to execute, that it was many years before he could
bring himself to give any thing willingly to the public. He
always wrote with ease and even with rapidity, but never to
his own satisfaction. During his residence in Philadelphia,
therefore, it is not known that he committed any thing to
the press, except two sermons, one at the opening of the
General Assembly of 1808, and the other on the conflagra
tion of the Richmond theatre, and a few papers in the old
Assembly's Magazine, which cannot now be pointed out with
certainty.




280               PAROCHIAL WORK.
In his pastoral work he found increasing satisfaction, anc
was surrounded by good auxiliaries.  "Of my own people,'
says he, " William Haslitt and John McMullin were my unwavering friends.  James Stuart was warm-hearted and
very zealous, and often showed me the way to the houses of
the poor, the widow, and the suffering; and in the prayermeetings he was my right-hand man. Joseph Eastburn,
who was a kind of city missionary, was often at our social
gatherings; his heart was warm and his feelings were kind.
Though this truly good man had read scarcely any thing but
his Bible, he preached more acceptably and profitably than
many learned men. He was originally a member of Arch
Street church, but falling into scruples about his infant baptism, he went into the country and got a Baptist minister
to immerse him, but on condition that he should remain a
Presbyterian, as he did to the day of his death.  When the
Methodists occupied the old Academy which once belonged to
Whitefield, Eastburn, who was his follower, began to exhort
publicly, and spoke with so much warmth and tenderness
that the people were much impressed. All seemed to think
that he ought to be licensed as an exhorter, which was then
a new thing in the church. The Presbytery gave him authority to preach in the jail, almshouse, and other institutions. But he could not confine himself to these, and spoke
at prayer-meetings, and sometimes supplied the place of
ministers, when they were absent or indisposed. He even
attended Quaker meetings, and was moved to speak there,
so often as to give some umbrage to the old broad-brims.
An old Quaker lawyer said "he was afraid that friend Jo.
eeph spake sometimes before he was moved by the Spirit."




DOCTOR RUSH.                  281
A surviving member of the congregation thinks that Mr.
Alexander read but three discourses during his ministry in
Pine street. Dr. Milledoler's preaching had brought in a
a number of young persons; the success of Mr. A. was chiefly
among those of riper years. At one of the early communions,
out of twenty-seven who professed their faith, only one was
in youth. The same informant recalls the interest taken by
Dr. Benjamin Rush in the performances of Mr. Alexander.
He augured his future eminence, and when told that the
discourses were very simple, quoted the Latin adage, Ex
pede Herculem; adding that he was reminded of what John
Newton says in his Cardiphonia, that in his own preaching
he followed the advice of a minister who fixed his eye on
one of the humblest of his audience, and adapted his language to this hearer. From another venerable Philadelphian,
Mr. William Bradford, a friend has derived a second anecdote. Dr. Rush and Dr. Abercrombie were in a carriage at
a funeral, when Dr. Rush said, pointing to the Pine street
Church," That is the church Mr. Alexander is coming to."
"Do you call that a church?" said the clergyman. "Yes,
sir," replied Rush; " wherever two or three old women meet
together in the name of Christ, there is the Church of the
living God, the pillar and ground of the truth." On another
occasion, when some one spoke of the crowds who came to
evangelical preaching, Dr. Rush replied, " Yes, in this sense
also, unto Shiloh shall the gathering of the people be."
He was naturally awakened to compassion by observing
the great religious destitution prevailing in the outskirts of
Philadelphia. It was not a time of revival, and missionary




282               CITY DESTITUTION.
zeal had scarcely dawned upon Our churches. Some of his
efforts for the spread of the Gospel in the city are thus
modestly related in a memorandum  of his own. "After
coming to Philadelphia, I formed acquaintance with a number of pious men of other churches, and heard a general
complaint concerning the want of activity and enterprise. It
occurred to me. that there was much which might be done'
by pious laymen. Sabbath schools had not then been introduced. I sat down one day and drew up a constitution for
an'Evangelical Society,' not to raise funds, nor to employ
others to work, but an association of which every member
was to be a workling man. I communicated the constitution
to the Presbyterian ministers, in order to secure their approbation, which was readily granted. I then sent an invitation to about twenty gentlemen of zealous character in
the different congregations, most of whom came together,
When I read to them my'plan, they seemed greatly pleased,
and all expressed a willingness to do something. The first
step was to divide the members into committees of two each,
to go out in the evening of the Sabbath, to gather the
children of the poor in some convenient place, to talk with
their parents, and read the Scriptures and other good books.
We met the first evening of each month to hear reports and
to confer about new methods of doing good. This society
operated successfully and without any serious interruption
for a number of years, and still exists in a feeble state." Its
operations have since been merged into the more extensive
plans of the Sunday School and City Mission enterprises.
Several important measures were carried into effect by its




EVANGELICAL SOCIETY.             283
exertions, particularly the erection of an African church.
Several eminent laymen were trained in these efforts for
subsequent usefulness; among whom may be named James
Moore and Francis Markoe. The bearing of this humble endeavour on the great work of city. missions, has induced us
to glean a few additional particulars from one of the surviving labourers. Until this society was formed, it had been very
unusual among Presbyterians to have any religious meetings
in the evening; and these were even opposed by some good
people.  The Sunday evening services, when once comnienced, were exceedingly popular and much crowded.'Several licentiates began their ministry in these labours
among the destitute, which gave origin to new churches
now in existence.
The enterprise was so novel and simple, and so fore.
shadowed later measures for church-extension and education, that we gladly add the view derived from a memorandum for which we are indebted to the venerable Dr. Janeway.
"When your father," says he to the editor, " came to Philadelphia, there was in existence a society embracing members
of different denominations of Christians, and styled'The
Humane Society.' As its name imports, it was to relieve
the wants of the poor. Your father originated a society,
called'the Evangelical Society.' In a certain stage of its
development both Dr. Green and I became members, and
regularly attended its meetings. It then met in the sessionroom of the Second Presbyterian Church, adjoining the
church edifice, which then stood at the corner of Arch and
Third streets. The object of this society was to carry the




284              EVANGELICAL SOCIETY.
knowledge of the Gospel to the destitute in various parts of
the city. The members went, two and two, to particular
districts, assembled individuals where they found convenient
places, read to them out of the Scriptures and evangelical
sermons or portions of books, and conversed and prayed with
them. These committees regularly reported to the Society
the result of their labours.
"To refresh my recollections, and especially to get a
knowledge of the origin of the Society, I have twice conversed with Mr. Nassau, senior, who was a member of the
Third Presbyterian Church, under the ministry of Dr. Milledoler, and of course when your father succeeded him as pastor
of that church. He gives the origin of the Society thus
On a certain day, I think from the pulpit, your father invited some of his church members to meet at his house.
When convened, he said to them,'Brethren, I have been
looking over the congregation, and think that a number of
the pious members may be very usefully employed in promroting the interests of religion in different places among the
poor and ignorant.' He detailed the plan, and they proposed
that he should act as their president; but this he declined,
as a needless formality.  Another meeting was held, to
which more were invited. It was afterwards proposed to
embrace in the Society members of other Presbyterian
churches. The Society continued to act, I think, until
your father's removal to Princeton in 1812.":
We find by examination of the Religious Remembrancer,
* Letter of the Rev. J. J. Janeway, D. D., July 23, 1853.




EVANGELICAL SOCIETY.             285
that the Society was instituted on the eleventh day of April,
1808. The same journal, under date of September 18,
1813, says that " some of the Committees, finding the work
to increase on their hands, have thought it expedient to devote an additional evening to the children," and adds, that
" several convenient houses on different sites have been
erected," for accommodating them. And it is said, October
16, that "at the first formation of the Society a small sum
was subscribed, which was applied to the republishing of
several tracts."
Mr. William Bradford remembers that Mr. Alexander
was present at the opening of the Society's Sunday evening
meetings, for preaching and teaching, at the corner of Buttonwood and Eighth streets. The enterprise was novel, and
the meeting was so much threatened that two constables
were employed to keep the peace. It was a neighbourhood
of butchers, and some one said of it, " The people will attend, and butcher the Evangelicals afterwards." These particulars, however slight in themselves, have a manifest
bearing on the rise of certain great charities among us.
Among the manuscripts which belong to this period, is
one which evidently connects itself with what has just been
recited, and with the great work of City Missions. It is in
the handwriting of Dr. Alexander, and is subjoined without
comment.
"c THE POOR HAVE THE GOSPEL PREACHED UNTO THEM.
"It is a truly lamentable consideration, that there are
thousands of unhappy persons in and about this city who




286             PLAN OF CITY MISSION.
rarely or never hear the Gospel. This is especially the case
with respect to many poor people who are unable to obtain
pews in the churches, or who are so careless about their salvation as never to have sought this privilege.  Whilst with
a laudable zeal we are sending the Gospel to the heathen,
and to the ignorant on our frontiers, is it not also incumbent
on us to endeavour, by all practicable means, to bring
within its sound the multitudes in this city who are nearly
as ignorant as heathens? Will it not be proper to show
charity at home, and to use efforts to secure perishing soils
from impending ruin?
" It is believed that it would be productive of much good
to this class of people, to erect a free church, a church, the
pews or seats of which should never be appropriated to particular persons, but left open for all who might choose at
any time to occupy them. Such a church might easily be
supplied with preaching every Sunday evening by the ministers of the city, and frequently in the day by strangers who
may happen to spend the Sabbath in the city.
"In order to provide such a house, and to devise and ex —
ecute other plans for the extension of religious knowledge
among the poor and ignorant in the City and Liberties of
Philadelphia, we whose names are hereunto subscribed do
agree to form ourselves into a Society; and to regulate our
proceedings we have adopted the following rules:
"1. The style of the Society shall be, The Society for
promoting Religious Knowledge among the Poor.
"2. Any person may become a member of this Society,
who shall contribute a sum fbr the purpose of building a fi:ee
church not less than ten dollars.




GENERAL ASSEMBLY.                287
"3. As soon as twenty subscribers shall be obtained, a
meeting shall be held, at which it shall be determined, whether there is a sufficient prospect of success to proceed with
the undertaking.
"4. If it shall be determined to make the attempt, a
Committee of five persons shall be chosen by a majority of
the subscribers present, to whom the whole arrangement of
the business shall be committed, and who shall continue in
office until the next regular meeting of the Society, when a
new choice shall be made.
" 5. When the church contemplated is erected, and fit to
receive a congregation, it shall be the duty of the Committee
already mentioned, to endeavour to have it supplied with gratuitous preaching, at least on every Sunday evening.
" 6. Any three members of the Committee shall be authorized to invite any preacher of any Christian denomination
to preach in the aforesaid church.
"7. The Committee shall also take the most effectual
means to give notice of sermons to that class of people
whose benefit is contemplated, and to use'every proper
measure to induce them to attend.
"8. Subscriptions of sums less than ten dollars will be
thankfully received, but will not entitle the contributor to a
vote in the deliberations of the Society."
Mr. Alexander was a commissioner to the General Assembly in 1807, 1808 and 1811, and at the first of these meetings was elected moderator. The following year, agreeably
to custom, he delivered the discourse at the opening of the
Assembly.  It was published, and is upon the text, 1 Cor.,




288                    TRACTS.
xiv. 12, " Seek that ye may excel, to the edifying of the
church."
In the year 1810, Mr. Alexander received from the
College of New Jersey the honorary degree of Doctor of
Divinity; the same distinction being at the same time conferred on his friends the Rev. Moses Hoge, and the Rev
Leonard Woods.
Among other projects of his scheming and inventive
mind, we find one or two mentioned in his private reminiscences, which connect him with enterprises that have since
become very important. Speaking of the Philadelphia Bible
Society, of which Dr. Rush was the chief founder, and which
is the oldest in the hemisphere, he adds: "I made some
exertion to have a small Tract Society established, but the
attempt was not successful. William Bradford did indeed
print a few tracts, and Alexander Henry aided in paying
the expense."  Mr. Bradford, who still survives, relates that
about 1808 or 1809, Mr. Alexander urged him to print Mrs.
More's " Ccelebs," in order to correct the taste of female
readers for romances; which he accordingly did. Having
printed the tract " Jack Covey," he applied to Mr. Alexander
to fill two blank pages with prayers. The reply was that he
had never written one, but the next day he brought him a
prayer of a pious seaman before, and another after a storm,
which were printed. Mr. Alexander strongly encouraged
the primitive Tract Society, the "Philadelphia Tract Society," which had its origin in Mr. Bradford's reprinting of
that incomparable narrative, " Poor Joseph," which he received from Dr. Green.




CALL TO GEORGIA.                289
"In considering the wants of the people and the difficulty of reaching the multitude with religious instruction,
I conceived the plar of a religious [newspaper], a thing at
that time unknown in the world. But as the thing was
new, I mentioned [it] to none but two or three of my elders;
and it met with approbation. It was suggested that we had
a printer, who was a well informed young man, John W.
Scott. I conversed with him, and he drew up a well-written
but rather florid Address, to accompany a Prospectus.
Before the plan was carried into effect, I was removed to
Princeton; but Mr. Scott went forward with the enterprise,
and published for a number of years, before any other work
of the kind was thought of, The Christian R1emembrancer.
We talked of getting some tracts for the sailors, and I composed a few prayers for their use, which Mr. Bradford printed.
We then saw no way of extending religious instruction to
that class of men; but Providence afterwards opened the
way for much good, by means of Bethel meetings, and
the like."
It is worthy of record, that in the year 1810, Mr. Alexander was elected President of the University of Georgia, and
was solicited with importunity to assume that important
place. The fact was unknown even to his children, until
revealed by his posthumous papers.
During the last year of Dr. Alexander's abode in Philadelphia, an event of signal calamity drew his sympathies
towards his native State.  It is thus related in a journal
of the day. " On the night of December 26, 1811, the theatre
in the city of Richmondl, Virginia, was unusually crowded;




290            B3URNING OF THEATRE.
a new play having drawn together an assembly of not less
than six hundred persons. Toward the close of the performance, just before the last act of the concluding pantomime, the scenery caught fire from a lamp inadvertently
raised to an improper position, and in a few minutes the
whole building was wrapped in flames. The doors being
few, and the avenues leading to them extremely narrow, the
scene which ensued was truly one of horror. It may be in
some degree imagined, but can never be adequately described.
About seventy-five persons perished in the flames. Among
these were the Governor of the State; the President of the
Bank of Virginia; one of the most eminent attorneys belonging to the bar of the commonwealth; a number of other
respectable gentlemen; and about fifty females, of whom a
large portion were among the ladies of the greatest conspicuity and fashion in the city."  When the direful news
reached Philadelphia, a meeting was held on New Year's
Day, of more than one hundred Virginians, being part of
the Medical Class of the University of Pennsylvania, who,
after suitable resolutions of condolence, requested Dr. Alexander to deliver a discourse on the mournful occasion. We
well remember the solemn procession from the University to
the church, and the throng of the agitated assembly. The
sermon was published, and though unquestionably the most
hurried production of its author, contains some passages
which deserve to be remembered. The text was Romans
xii. 15, "Weep with them that weep;" and it was introduced by some remnarks on the sympathetic benignity of the
Gospel.




RICHMOND THEATRE.                291
"One leading difference between the system of morals
prescribed by the Stoics, and that inculcated by Christianity,
is, that while the former aims at eradicating the passions,
the latter endeavours to regulate them and direct them into
their proper channels. The great Author of our being has
implanted the principle of sympathy deeply in human nature, and has made the susceptibility of feeling the sorrows
of another, as extensive as the race of man. It is common
to the untutored savage and the man of refinement and education; and traces of it are discovered even in the animal
creation. This principle of sympathy, while it indicates the
unity of our species, seems to form a mysterious bond of
connection between all its members. The spectacle of suffering humanity, however great a stranger the object may
be, will always excite our sensibility, unless the feelings be
blunted by vicious indulgence, restrained by prejudice, or
extinguished by the long prevalence of malignant passions.
Genuine pity, and compassion for objects of real distress,
have been perverted and almost quenched, in a multitude of
persons, by the artificial excitement of spurious feelings, produced by scenes of fictitious distress; which tend to no
valuable end, and are sought only for the momentary gratification of the possessor. But however sympathy may be
abused, it has its proper and legitimate exercise, to whic-h
we are not only prompted by nature, but directed by reason
and exhorted by religion. There are occasions, when not to'weep with them that weeI),''would be rebellion against
every principle which ought to govern us.  If the sufferings
of an enemy may be such as to affect us-if we are excited




292                    SERM0ON.
to weep at the woes of a stranger-what must our feelings
be, when we recognise in the cry of unutterable anguish the
well-known voice of an acquaintance, a friend, a brother or
a sister? Such a cry of distress, from the capital of our native State, has pierced our ears, and filled our hearts with
grief. The sons of Virginia, resident in this place, are today called upon to mourn, and to mingle their sympathetic
tears with those of the whole State."
After some allusion to the distinguished names in the
catalogue of the dead, the preacher indulges in a few rapid
pictures, which however uncommon in his severer printed
works, were not unfrequent in his extemporaneous discourses,
and which for this reason ought to be preserved. " That,"
he continues, "'which winds up our sympathies to the
highest pitch, is, that the greater part were young women
in the very bloom and prime of life. About one half the
names in the whole catalogue are of this description. 0!
who can think, without exquisite anguish, of so many gay
and blooming virgins, decorated with the charms of beauty,
accomplished by the refinements of art, tender and delicate
to excess, and accustomed only to endearments and caresses,
perishing by a death so cruel, and by torments so excruciatin g! Who can describe the chasm which has been made in
numerous families, and the agony which has been, and is
still endured! Tell us, ye bereaved mothers (if words can
express it), the pangs which have rent your breaking hearts,
since you beheld the scorched, bruised, and disfigured remains of your once beautiful daughters.'In Rama,' of old,'a voice of lamentation, and weeping, and great mourning,




SERMON.                    293
was heard; Rachel weeping for her children, and would not
be comforted, because they are not.' How many inconsolable Rachels are there this day, who weep for their children
and refuse to be comforted. The hoary head of the indulgent father too must now come down with sorrow to the
grave. Perhaps the last prop and solace of his declining
years, as well as the darling of his heart, is for ever gone
from his sight. The helpless widow and the orphan children also lift up their deploring hands and their streaming
eyes to heaven, expressing thereby feelings of grief and
agony, to which all words are inadequate.  And why need I
attempt to describe the poignant pangs of the disappointed
lover (the day of whose nuptials perhaps was fixed), as he
beholds the form which he idolized changed into a frightful
skeleton.
" But the shock is felt not only in the city of Richmond,
but in remote parts of the State. Several who perished in
the flames resided at a distance. With some, perhaps, it
was the first visit of any length which they ever made from
their father's house. Methinks I see the fond mother taking
the last leave of her beloved daughter, little suspecting that
it is the last. Or shall I fancy that some unaccountable
foreboding seizes her mind and oppresses her heart, as the
object of her hopes and fears is carried from her sight?
"But who shall imagine what her situation and feelings
are, when the day arrives which shall bring a letter from
her affectionate child! A letter comes, it is true; but what
horror chills the blood, when it is seen not to be inscribed
in the well-known hand of the dear girl, and to be ad
dressed to the father instead of the mother.  I see his




294              RICHMOND THEATRE.
veteran hand tremble while he breaks the ominous seal.
And the countenance which had remained unmoved, while
death was braved at the cannon's mouth, now turns pale as
ashes, when he reads the few incoherent sentences, by which
he is made to realize more than ever the gloomiest hour had
painted on his imagination. These remarks are suggested
by the recollection of a modest and amiable young lady,
whom I happened to see last summer, in company with a
pious mother, at a solemn religious meeting, where she appeared to be deeply interested, and to enter very devotionally
into the exercises of the day; but alas! in looking over the
melancholy list, I find her name enrolled.  She perished in
the flames on the fatal twenty-sixth of December.
"I feel it to be incumbent on me.... to give my public
testimony against [theatrical exhibitions] as being, notwithstanding the partial good which may result from  them,
unfriendly to piety-unfriendly to morality-unfriendly to
health-unfriendly to domestic happiness-Iand unfiiendly
to true delicacy and genuine refinement."
The peroration is as follows. "Finally, permit me to
conclude this discourse, by considering the dispensation,
which has convened us this day, in the light of a solemn
warning. Yes, my hearers, if ever the trumpet of a righteous Providence sounded loudly in our ears, it doth so this
day. The voice is alarming. Let no weak notions of accident
and second causes keep you from observing the frowns of
heaven, which lower over us. Think not that these were
sinners above all who dwell in the land, because they suffered
such things.'I tell'you nay; but except ye repent, ye shall
all likewise perish.'




SERMON.                    295
" Often, since the ominous and fatal handwriting on the
wall caused the proud king of Babylon to shake with terror
in the midst of his profane mirth and riot, has the awful
transition from the gay scenes of dissipation, to the shades
of death, been made in the period of a single night. Often
have the votaries of pleasure been hurried from the festive
board, the merry dance, the opera and play —and what is
still more dreadful, from scenes of excess and debauchery —
into eternity, to answer for their deeds before the tremendous
bar of God.  Receive the warning, then, and'suffer the
word of exhortation.' The views and impressions produced
by this deplorable occurrence, however painful at the present,
miay be precious in their effects, and should not be allowed
to pass off without originating such resolutions and purposes,
as shall become the foundation of a new course of life.  You
may never in the whole period of your lives find a season so
favourable, to shake off the undue influence of the world,
and to break with every darling lust and besetting sin. My
last advice, therefore, is, BECOME. REAL CHRISTIANS.  Make
religion a personal concern. Attend to it without delay.'Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth.'
And may the God of all grace crown the exercises of this
day with his blessing, for Christ's sake! Amen."
It is worthy of note, as belonging to a parallel between
two long and blended lives, that the Reverend Dr. Miller in
New-York preached and published a discourse, commemorative of the same afflictive event. It was upon Lamentations,
ii. 1-13, and contains an able and elaborate argument
against theatrical amusements.




CHAPTER TWELFTH.
1811-1812.
IIEOLOGICAL SEMINARY PROJECTED-ELECTION OF PROFESSOR-R EMOYAL
TO PRINCETON —STUDIES AND ATTAINMENTS-INAUGURATION.
IT cannot now be ascertained by whom the scheme of a
Theological Seminary for the Presbyterian Church was
first suggested. In the measures which resulted in such an
institution, many minds co-operated. Among these we may
safely say none were more prominent than Doctors Green,
Miller and Alexander.  The increasing fields open for Gospel
labour, caused not a few among our ministers to be devising
methods for supplying the destitutions.  It was also generally believed that the method of pursuing studies in preparation for the ministry, under the guidance of individual
pastors, however valuable as a measure of necessity, could
not be relied on, as the means of furnishing adequate training for the work of so great a country. In regard to the
education of candidates in general, Dr. Green, as early as
1805, sent into the General Assembly an overture, addressed to the Committee of Overtures, which was received
with so much favour as to be published in the printed




SEMINARY PROPOSED.                297
minutes of the year with his name, and which originated a
system of measures which occupied this judicatory for several
years. This admirable paper, however, did not contain any
proposal of a theological institution.  Of this particular
method of raising up a suitable ministry, the earliest mention which we have been able to discover is in a discourse
preached by Dr. Alexander in 1808, before the General
Assembly, of which he had been Moderator the year before.
The passage is as follows:
" I will now make a few remarks on the subject of purity,
as it respects the discipline of the church. The first thing
here which deserves our attention, is the introduction of suitable men into the ministry. If you would have a well-disciplined army, you must begin by appointing good officers.
There is no subject which more deserves the attention of our
church when met in General Assemlbly than this.  The deficiency of preachers is great. Our vacancies are numerous,
and often continue for years unsupplied, by which means
they are broken up or destroyed. Our seminaries of learning,
although increasing in literature and numbers, furnish us
with few preachers. This state of affairs calls loudly for
your attention. Some measures have already beets adopted
by the recommendation of the General Assembly to remedy
this evil; but although they promise considerable success.
they are inadequate to the object.  In my opinion, we
shall not have a regular and sufficient supply of well-qualified ministers of the Gospel, until every Presbytery, or at
least every Synod, shall have under its direction a seminary
Astablished for the single purpose of educatino youth for the




298             DR. GREEN'S OVERTURE.
ministry, in which the course of education from  its commencement shal1 be directed to this object; for it is muct
to be doubted. wnether the system of education pursued in
our colleges and universities is the best adapted to prepare a
young man for the work of the ministry. The great extension of the physical sciences, and the taste and fashion of the
age, have given such a shape and direction to the academical
course, that I confess, it appears to me to be little adapted
to introduce a youth to the study of the sacred Scriptures."
In reference to these remarks, Dr. Green says in his
Autobiography: "Encouraged by this, I used all my influence in favour of the measure; and in 1809, the Presbytery
of Philadelphia, to which I belonged, sent into the General
Assembly of that year an overture distinctly proposing the
establishment of a theological school. The committee to
which the overture was referred, reported to the Assembly
three plans, namely: 1.'One great school, in some convenient place near thecentre of the bounds of our church.
2. To establish two such schools in such places as may best.
accommodate the northern and southern divisions of the
Church. 3. To establish such a school within the bdunds of
each of the Synods. After stating the advantages and disadvantages of each of these modes, the committee recommended and the Assembly resolved, that the above plans be
submitted to all the Presbyteries within the bounds of the
General Assembly, for their consideration, and that they be
careful to send up to the next Assembly at their sessions
in May, 1810, their opinions on the subject.' When the
votes of the Presbyteries came to be examined by a commit.




DR. GREEN'S PLAN.               299
tee appointed for the purpose in 1810, it appeared that a
majority of the Presbyteries under the care of the Assembly
had expressed a decided opinion in favour of the establishment of a theological school; and that although there was
an equal number of Presbyteries in favour of the first and
third plans above mentioned, yet there were those who had
voted in favour of the third plan, who had done so from an
entire misconception of the nature and intention of the first,
which would be completely obviated when the details of that
plan should be made known. The conclusion therefore was'that there was a greater amount of presbyterial suffrage in
favour of a single school than of any other plan.' Several
resolutions were passed by the General Assembly (which I
shall not transcribe) for the immediate establishment of the
contemplated institution; and a committee was appointed,
of which I was the chairman, to draught a plan, as the constitution of a theological seminary. The draughting of a plan
fell of course upon me, as the chairman of the committee.
In hope of getting aid from my fellow members, I requested
the committee to meet in New-York, at the house of Dr.
Miller. - The committee consisted of seven members, and
if I remember right, but four of them met. We however
spent the afternoon in talking about the plan of the contemplated seminary. But when I sat seriously down to make a
draught of the plan, I found that there was but one idea
suggested by my brethren, that I could introduce into it.
Nor had I any other guide than the nature of the subject,
and if I ever taxed my faculties to their best effort, it was
on this occasion. Two of the articles of the plan, when it




300               DR. Gh1EEN'S PLAY.
was reported to the Assembly, were laid over to be considered
in the following year, and to this day they ha7e not been
taken up-these articles related to the library and a theological academy.
"When I had completed a draught of the plan for the
construction of the Seminary, I summoned the committee
to meet at Princeton, on the day of Commencement, 1810.
There was a general, but not a full attendance at that time;
and I shall never forget with what diffidence I submitted
my draught to my brethren, not only being willing, but
wishing that they would suggest alterations and improvements, and I was surprised when they suggested none of
any importance. We knew that it was cum periculo that
our plan should be published before it was reported to the
Assembly. But we determined to do it, and to have copies
enough printed to lay one on the table of every member of the
Assembly of the following yxar) 1811. We were not blamed
for this act by any one; on the contrary, the members of
the Assembly appeared to be gratified when they found thatt
each was served with a copy. This plan has received a considerable number of modifications by the General Assemblies
which have convened during the three and thirty years
which have elapsed since its first adoption; and yet no important feature of the plan has been changed, and more than
three fourths of the language remains as it was in the orignal
Olmposition."
On a subject so important in itself, and so closely related
to our chief subject, we may be allowed to go into some particulars, by inserting the brief history of the project, pre.
pared, as we believe, by the PRev. Dr. Miller.




ORIGIN OF SEMINARY.                301
"After much counsel and prayer, the proposal to establish a theological seminary for the Presbyterian Church was
first introduced into the General Assembly, during the sessions of that body in May, A. P. 1809. It was introduced
in the form of an overture or proposal from the Presbytery
of Philadelphia. This overture was so far countenanced by
the Assembly as to be referred to a select committee, who,
after due deliberation on the subject, brought in the following report, which, being read, was adopted, and became the
act of the Assembly, in the following words, viz.
"'The committee appointed on the subject of a theological school, overtured from the Presbytery of Philadelphia,
report,
"'That three modes of compassing this important object have presented themselves to their consideration.
"'The first is, to establish one great school, in some convenient place near the centre of the bounds of our Church.
"' The second is, to establish two such schools, in such
places as may best accommodate the northern and southern
divisions of the Church.
"'The third is, to establish such a school within the
bounds of each of the Synods.  In this case, your committee
suggest the propriety of leaving it to each Synod to direct
the mode of forming the school, and the place where it shall
be established.
"'The advantages attending the first of the proposed
modes, are, that it would be furnished with larger funds,
and therefore with a more extensive library and a greater
wumber of _professors. The system of education pursued in




302             REPORT OF COMMITTEE.
it would therefore be more extensive, and more perfect; thk
youth educated in it would also become more united in the
same views, and contract an early and lasting friendship for
each other; circumstances which would not fail of promoting
harmony and prosperity in the Church. The disadvantages
attending this mode would be, principally, those derived
from the distance of its position from the extremities of the
Presbyterian bounds.
"' The advantages attending the second of the proposed
modes and the disadvantages, will readily suggest themselves,
from a comparison of this with the other two.'The advantages which would attend the third, to
wit, the establishment of theological schools by the respective
Synods, would be the following. The local situation of the
respective schools would be peculiarly convenient for the
several parts of a country so extensive, as that for the benefit of which they were designed. The inhabitants having
the seminaries brought near to them, would feel a peculiar
interest in their prosperity, and may be rationally expected
to contribute much more liberally than to any single school,
or even to two. The Synods, also, having the immediate
care of them, and directing, either in person or by delegation,
all their concerns, would feel a similar interest, and would
probably be better pleased with a system formed by themselves, and therefore peculiarly suited to the wishes and interests of the several parts of the Church immediately under
their direction.  Greater efforts, therefore, may be expected
from ministers and people, to promote the prosperity of
these schools, than of any other.  The disadvantages of this




REPQRT OF COMMITTEE.              303
mode would be, the inferiority of the funds; a smaller number of professors; a smaller library, and a more limited
system  of education in each. The students, also, as now,
would be strangers to each other.
"' Should the last of these modes be adopted, your committee are of the opinion, that every thing pertaining to
the erection and conduct of each school, should be left to
the direction of the respective Synods.  If either of the first,
the whole should be subject to the control of the General
Assembly.
"'Your committee also suggest, that, in the former of
these cases, the funds for each school should be raised within
the bounds of the Synod within which it was stationed. In
the latter, they should be collected from the whole body of
the Church.
"' Your committee, therefore, submit the following resolution, to wit:
"' Resolved, That the above plans be submitted to all the
Presbyteries within the bounds of the General Assembly, for
their consideration; and that they be careful to send up to
the next Assembly, at their sessions in May, 1810, their
opinions on the subject.'
"Agreeably to this resolution, the three alternate plans
which it contemplates, were sent down to all the Presbyteries, to be considered and decided upon by them.'At the meeting of the next General Assembly, in May,
1810, the Presbyteries were called upon to state what they
had respectively done with respect to the recommendation
of the Blst Assembly, relative to the establishment of a theo



,(04r              1;PREPORT OF COMMITTEE.
logical school. The reports from the several Presbyteries on
this subject, having been read, were referred to a select com.
mittee to consider and report on the same. This committee
made a report, which, being read and amended, was adopted,
as follows, viz.:
"'The committee, after maturely deliberating on the
subject committed to them, submit to the Assembly the
following results.
"' I. It is evident, that not only a majority of the Presbyteries which have reported on this subject, but also a
majority of all the Presbyteries under the care of this Assembly, have expressed a decided opinion in favour of the establishment of a theological school or schools in our Church.
"' II. It appears to the committee, that although according to the statement already reported to the Assembly,
there is an equal number of Presbyteries in favour of the first
plan, which contemplates a single school for the whole
Church; and in favour of the third plan, which contemplates
the erection of a school in each Synod; yet, as several of
the objections made to the first plan, are founded entirely
an misconception," and will be completely obviated by de* "Some of the Presbyteries objected to a single theological seminary, for
the whole Church, because they apprehended that, if this plan were adopted,
every Presbytery would become thereby bound to send all their candidates
to study in it, however inconvenient or expensive it might be. Others were
fearful, that the Professors, in such a seminary, if they were not formally
empowered to license candidates to preach the Gospel, might be clothed
with powers out of which such an abuse would naturally grow, thereby en~langering both the purity and peace of the Churell, and giving to a few men




REPORT OF COMMITTEE.                  305
veloping the details of that plan; it seems fairly to follow
that there is a greater amount of Presbyterial suffrage in
favour of a single school, than of any other plan.
C' III. Under these circumstances, the committee are of
opinion, that, as much light has been obtained from the
reports of Presbyteries on this subject, as would be likely to
result from a renewal of the reference: that no advantage
will probably arise from further delay in this important concern; but, on the contrary, much serious inconvenience and
evil; that the present General Assembly is bound to attempt
to carry into execution some one of the plans proposed; and
that the first plan appearing to have, on the whole, the
greatest share of public sentiment in its favour, ought of
course to be adopted.
"' IV. Your committee, therefore, recommend that the
present General Assembly declare its approbation and
adoption of this plan, and immediately commence a course
of measures for carrying it into execution, as promptly and
extensively as possible; and for this purpose they recommend to the Assembly the adoption of the following resolutions, viz.:
"' Resolved, 1. That the state of our churches, the loud
and affecting call of destitute frontier settlements, and the
laudable exertions of various Christian denominations around
us, all demand that the collected wisdom, piety, and zeal of
wery dangerous influence. It was for the purpose of obviating these, and other
objections to a single seminary, that the sixth, seventh and eighth resolutions,
m a subsequent page, were adopted by the General Assembly."




306             REPORT OF COMMITTEE.
the Presbyterian Church be, without delay, called into
action for furnishing the Church with a larger supply of able
and faithful ministers.
"' 2. That the General Assembly will, in the name of the
Great Head of the Church, immediately attempt to establish
a seminary for securing to candidates for the ministry a more
extensive and efficient theological instruction than they have
heretofore enjoyed. The local situation of this seminary is
hereafter to be determined.' 6 3. That in this seminary, when completely organized,
there shall be at least three professors, who shall be elected
by and hold their office during the pleasure of the General
Assembly, and who shall give a regular course of instruction
in divinity, in oriental and biblical literature, and in ecclesia.3tical history and church government, and on such other
subjects as may be deemed necessary. It being, however,
understood, that until sufficient funds can be obtained for
the complete organization and support of the proposed seminary, a smaller number of professors than three may be
appointed to commence the business of instruction.
"'4. That exertions be made to provide such an amount
of funds for this seminary as will enable its conductors to
afford gratuitous instruction, and where it is necessary, gratuitous support to all such students as may not themselves
possess adequate pecuniary means.
"'5. That the Rev. Doctors Green, Woodhull, Romeyn,
and Miller, the Rev. Messrs. Archibald Alexander, James
Richards, and Amzi Armstrong, be a committee to digest
%nd prepare a plan of a theological seminary, embracing in




REPORT OF COMMITTEE.               307
detail the fundamental principles of the institution, together
with regulations for guiding the conduct of the instructors
and the students, and prescribing the best mode of visiting,
controlling, and supporting the whole system. This plan to
be reported to the next General Assembly.
"' 6. That, as filling the Church with a learned and able
ministry without a corresponding portion of real piety, would
be a curse to the world and an offence to God and his people, so the General Assembly think it their duty to state,
that in establishing a seminary for training up ministers, it is
their earnest desire to guard as far as possible against so
great an evil. And they do hereby solemnly pledge themselves to the churches under their care, that in forming and
carrying into execution the plan of the proposed seminaryv,
it will be their endeavour to make it, under the blessing of
God, a nursery of vital piety as well as of sound theological
learning, and to train up persons for the ministry who shall
be lovers as well as defenders of the truth as it is in Jesus,
friends of revivals of religion, and a blessing to the Church
of God.
"' 7. That as the Constitution of our Church guarantees
to every Presbytery the right of judging of its own candidates for licensure and ordination, so the Assembly think it
proper to state most explicitly, that every Presbytery and
Synod will of course be at liberty to countenance the proposed plan or not, at pleasure; and to send their students
to the projected seminary, or keep them, as heretofore,
within their own bounds, as they may think most conducive
to the prosperity of the Church.




308          FIRST MEETING OF DIRECTORS.
"'8. That the Professors in the seminary shall not, in
any case, be considered as having a right to license candidates to preach the Gospel; but that all such candidates
shall be remitted to their respective Presbyteries to be
licensed, as heretofore.'
" The committee appointed to prepare a constitution in
detail for the contemplated seminary, made report to the
General Assemblv which convened in 1811.":
The first meeting of the Directors was held June 30,
1812, and was opened with a sermon by the Rev. Dr. Green.
who was immediately elected President of the Board, an
office which he held as long as he lived.  When, three years
later, the beginnings of an edifice were made, the cornerstone was laid by the same venerable man.  "I consider,"
said he, " the agency I have had in providing ministers of the
Gospel for the Church, and in securing the means for their
adequate instruction, and for an attention to their personal
piety, as the most important service that I have ever rendered
to the Church of Christ.'
Few things which we have to relate could be more interesting, if it were possible to recover it, than an account of
the state of mind with which Dr. Alexander regarded the
universal disposition of the Church to make him its first
theological professor.  But not a letter, not a memorandum,
not a line remains to tell the story. His characteristic modesty must have made this a severe trial. In his best days.
and after his longest experience and completest successes, he
* Brief History of the Theologioal Seminary. Princeton 1838




CIOICE OF Pl1OFESSOR.             309
was accustomed to bow very low under a sense of his own
insufficiency. But then, with powers all untried, to be called
from his retirement to assume the teacher's office, was an
event as embarrassing as it was unexpected. From the
analogy of his whole life and feelings, we are persuaded that
his final consent to undertake the task was produced by high
religious feelings, and a profound recognition of his responsibility to the Head of the Church.
From a source unknown to us, we insert an affecting account, from one who was present at the election.
"In the year 1812, the General Assembly, then in session in the city of Philadelphia, resolved to go into the
election of Professor. The Rev. Mr. Flinn, of Charleston)
South Carolina, was Moderator. It was unanimously resolved to spend some time in prayer previously to the election,
and that not a single remark should be made by any member
with reference to any candidate, before or after the balloting.
Silently and prayerfully these guardians of the Church began
to prepare their votes. They felt the solemnity of the occasion, the importance of their trust.  Not a word was
spoken, not a whisper heard, as the teller passed around to
collect the result. The votes were counted, the result declared, and the Rev. Dr. Alexander was pronounced elected.
A venerable elder of the church in Philadelphia, of which
Dr. Alexander was pastor, arose to speak.  But his feelings
choked utterance. How  could he part with' his beloved
pastor? His tears flowed until he sat down in silence. The
Rev. Dr. Miller arose and said that he hoped the brother
elected would not decline, however reluctant he might feel




310                 THE ELECTION.
to accept; that if he had been selected by the voice of
the Church, however great the sacrifice, he would not dare
refuse. Little did he dream that on the following year he
should be called by the same voice to give up the attractions
of the city, to devote his life to the labours of an instructor.
The Rev. Mr. Flinn called on the Rev. Dr. Woodhull, of
Monmouth, to follow in prayer. He declined. Two others
were called on, and they declined, remarking that it was the
Moderator's duty. He then addressed the throne of grace
in such a manner, with such a strain of elevated devotion,
that the members of the Assembly all remarked that he
seemed almost inspired; weeping and sobbing were heard
throughout the house.
" Amid the tears and prayers of the Church, Dr, Alexander was elected to the office. Amid the prayers and tears
of the Church, he was laid in the tomb. But three of the
members of that Assembly, it is believed, are now living.
Instead of thy fathers shall be thy children."*
When it became necessary to announce his determination
to the people of his charge, it was in the following terms.
" As it is known to this congregation that I have been
appointed by the General Assembly to be a Professor in the
Theological School which they are about to establish at
Princeton, New Jersey, and as the time draws near when it
will be expected that I should declare my mind in relation
o this appointment, I have judged it proper and expedient,
* The Presbyterian.




PASTORAL FAREWELL.               311
n the first place, to make a communication to you, the dear
people of my charge.
"After viewing this important subject in every light in
which I could place it, and after having earnestly sought
the direction of Heaven, it does appear to me to be the call
of Providence, which I cannot and ought not to resist.
" This resolution has not been formed under the influence of any dissatisfaction with my present condition, nor
from any want of affection to this people; for since I have
been your pastor, no event has occurred to disturb that peace
and harmony which should ever exist between minister and
people; and I have had no reason to doubt the sincerity and
cordiality of the attachment of this congregation to me from
the first day I came amongst them until this time. For all
their respect and attention, and especially for that readiness
with which they have received the word at my mouth,'I
give thanks to God.' I moreover wish to say, that I do not
know a single congregation within the bounds of our Church,
of which I would choose to be pastor in preference to this.
No invitation, therefore, from any other would ever have
separated us.
"I did expect to live and die with you, unless ill health
(with which I have been threatened of late) should have
made a removal expedient. But we know nothing of the
designs of Providence with regard to us. God's dispensations
are unsearchable. In the whole of this business, thus far, I
have been entirely passive. I never expected or sought this
appointment. When it was mentioned to me by some mem



312              FAREWELL ADDRESS.
bers of the Assembly, the day it took place, my answer was,
that I sincerely wished they would think of some other person; that it was an office which I did not covet, and for
which I fell myself altogether unqualified. But when asked
whether I would give the subject a serious and deliberate
consideration if I should be appointed, I answered that
this I durst not oppose.
" Since the appointment has been made, I have thought
much, but said little.  I have seriously and deliberately
considered the subject. I never viewed any decision to be
made by me in so important a light. I think I have desired to do the will of God, and have, as earnestly as I could,
asked his counsel and guidance, and the result is, that I am
convinced that I ought not refuse such a call.
"To train up young men for the ministry, has always
been considered of higher importance to the Church of
Christ than to preach the Gospel to a particular flock already
gathered into the fold; and it has always been considered as
a sufficient reason for dissolving the pastoral relation between
minister and people, that he was wanted for this employment; and sister churches, which do not allow of removals
from our pastoral charge [?] do nevertheless admit this to
be a sufficient reason for the translation of a minister.
"In addition to this, it ought to be considered that this
call comes to me in a very peculiar way. It is not the call
of a College, or University, or any such institution, but it is
the call of the whole Church by their representatives. And
I confess that it has weighed much with my mind, that this




AREWELL ADDRESS.               313
appointment was made by the General Assembly in circunlstances of peculiar seriousness and solemnity, and after
spe(cial prayer for Divine direction and superintendence, and
by an almost unanimous vote. Perhaps it would be difficult
to find a disinterested person who would not say, under such
circumstances,'It is your duty to go-it appears to be the
call of God;' and I do believe that the majority of this
congregation are convinced in their judgment, whatever their
feelings may dictate, that I should be out of my duty to
refuse. Indeed, I cannot but admire the deportment of the
people in relation to this matter. Although tenderly affected,
and many of you grieved at heart, you have not ventured
to say' stay.' You saw that there was something remarkable
in the dispensation, and you knew not but that the finger of
God was in the affair, and therefore, with a submissive spirit,
you were disposed to say,' The will of the Lord be done.'
"'It does appear hard, indeed, that this bereavement
should fall upon you who have already been bereaved so
often; but consider that He who causeth the wound, hath
power to heal it, and can turn this event to your greater
advantage; and I entertain a confident persuasion, that if
you willingly make this sacrifice for the good of the Church,
the great Head of the Church will furnish you with a pastor
after his own heart, who will feed you with knowledge. Commit your case to him with fervent prayer and humble confidence, and he will not forget nor forsake you.
"My dear brethren, as we have lived in peace and love, I
hope that we shall part in the same spirit. I hope that we
shall remenmber one another unceasingly at the throne of




314                INAUGUnA'ION.
grace. Let us recollect the tines and seasons when we have
taken sweet converse together in this house, and other places
where prayer is wont to be made.  If any shall choose to be
displeased, and follow me with hard speeches instead of
prayers, I shall not return unto them as they measure unto
me. I will not resent their conduct.  I desire ever to be
disposed to bear you as a people on my heart with tender
love; and now to His grace and kind protection do I commit
you. Farewell! "
The inauguration, which we anticipate for the sake of
connection, took place on the twelfth day of August, 1812.
It was an occasion of great solemnity and feeling.  The
older ministers, especially those to whom the direction was
entrusted, looked with parental yearnings on the infant
seminary, and none were more ready to hail with thankfulness and hope the approach of new means for training the
ministry, than those excellent men who lamented the scantiness of their own early opportunities. But to none did
the service of the day bring greater solicitude than to him
who was about to put on armour for which he unaffectedly
felt too weak. The first discourse was a sermon by Dr. Miller, of New-York, on the Duty of the Church to take measures for providing an Able and Faithful Ministry; from the
words, "And the things which thou hast heard of me, among
many witnesses, the same commit thou to faithful men, who
shall be able to teach others also:" 2 Timothy, ii. 2. It was
an able investigation of the question, what is to be understood by an able and faithful ministry, which was made to
include piety, ttalents, learningt and diligence; and of the




PROFESSOR'S DISCOURSE.            315
means which the Church is bound to employ for providing
such a ministry.
The Inaugural Discourse of the Professor was founded
on the words, "Search the Scriptures," John v. 39; and
was a learned argument in behalf of biblical study. In one
respect the whole performance was true to the habit and
character of the speaker; for it did not contain, from beginning to end, the faintest allusion to his own personality.
All deprecation of censure, and all promise of fidelity, were
eqiually absent. It was followed by a charge to the Professor and Students of Divinity, by the Rev. Philip Milledoler, D. D. All concerned have since gone to their reward;
and of the Directors, before whom these addresses were delivered, the only survivors are the Rev. President Nott, the
rev. William Neill, D. D., the Rev. John McDowell, I)D. D.,
ind the Rev. Francis Herron, D. D. It is for the public to
determine how far the work in which these good men then
engaged, with such earnestness and many prayers, has conduced to the progress of religion and learning in the United
States.
It was with an unfeigned reluctance that Dr. Alexander
accepted the appointment.  No man could entertain a
higher estimate of the functions which awaited him. no
man of eminence could think more humbly of himself. All
his life long he was free to acknowledge, that his trainingo
however laborious, had lacked much of the rigour and method of the schools; and while he had pursued knowledge
with enthusiasm, and in many fields, he knew that it had




316                 PREPARATIONS.
been with the neglect of certain forms which are supposed to
give fitness for the academical chair. Theology had indeed
been the study of his life. Its difficult questions had been
the constant occupation of his profoundest meditations; and
he had during his residence in Philadelphia gathered about
him the great masters of Latin theology, whose works appeared in Holland, Switzerland, Germany, and France, in
the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. A rare occasion
for adding to his stock of Dutch theology was afforded by
the sale of a library belonging to a learned minister from
Holland, the Rev. Mr. Van Harlingen, of Somerset. In
relation to this, his friend, Mr. Rice, thus wrote: "I could
not help exclaiming, when I heard of the fine library you
have purchased,'0 fortunati!' but I could hardly add,'Haud equidem invideo/' But why should I repine? I
have more books than I can read.":'  These Reformed divines he regarded as having pushed theological investigation
to its greatest length, and compacted its conclusions into
the most symmetrical method. He was accustomed to say
that in his judgment Reformed theology reached its culminating point about the epoch of the Synod of Dordrecht.
To these great authors he turned with unabated zest during
the whole of a long and studious life. He once said to the
writer, that on a perplexed subject he preferred Latin to
English reading; not only because of the complete and
ingenious nomenclature which had grown up in the dialectic
schools of the church, but because the little effort required
for getting the sense kept his attention concentrated. It was
lMr. Rice to Dr. Alexander, November 4, 1813.




THEOLOGICAL READING.              317
indeed almost amusing to observe how he would hang over
the massive quarto or folio, with all the awakened interest of a novel-reader.  In consequence of the fiery controversy which characterized those times, and the scholastic
acumen and philosophic adventure and logical exactness
which belonged to the age, he considered these scholars as
having anticipated most of the minor questions which have
vexed the church in later times. His penchant for metaphysical investigation urged him, from an early date, to make
himself acquainted with the philosophies of the periods, from
which each system took its tincture, and without which it is
impossible to survey the several schemes from a just point
of view. Thus he perused, and generally in their sources,
not only the peripatetic and scholastic writers, but the treatises of Des Cartes, Leibnitz, Wolff, and Voetius. And
there was no subject on which he discoursed with more
pleasure or success than on the exposition and comnparison
of these ingenious though no-v exploded systems. He made
himself familiar with the Christian Fathers, both Greek and
Latin, and perused them  at intervals during forty years;
some of his very last labours having been in this field.'At
a certain period he examined all that they had written on
the Divinity of our Lord; and this formed a subject of lively
intercourse between him and Dr. Miller. It is particularly
remembered with what surprise and admiration he spoke of
the felicitous subtilty of Cyril. It was his delight to seek
out the portions of truth in the books of ancient authors.
Nor did he confine himself to writers on one side. Through
long years he was wont to seek with patience the best works




318             TIIEOLOGICAL READING.
in defence of popery; the argumentative dissertations of the
extreme Lutherans and Dutch Remonstrants, as well as the
Fratres Poloni and other champions of Socinianism.  It
need scarcely be added that he was familiar with English
theology, as treated both by authors of the Established
Church, and by the great Nonconformist divines.  His
recent travels in New England, and the prevailing excitement caused by the speculations of Hopkins and Emmons,
served to keep him observant in regard to the phases of
opinion in the American churches. As it respects his own
conclusions, he has left on record the statement, that on his
return from New England, and during his residence inll Philadelphia, his views, which had been somewhat modified by
eastern suggestions, began to fix themselves more definitely
in the direction of the common Westminster theology. In
many respects, therefore, he was well fitted for the difficult
post to which the Church was summoning him.
But there were other branches of learning, tributary to the
teacher's place, which had occupied his attention. His extraordinary tenacity of memory, which seemed never to let
go a fact entrusted to it, gave him both taste and facility
for historical study; and we have never met with any one
who was more at home in all the annals of ecclesiastical
record. For reasons already indicated the events were made
to revolve in his mind around the momentous points of theological determination; so that the history of doctrine, including the rise and progress of errors, the decisions of councils,
controversial authorship and the establishment. of symbols
rnd of sects, became favourite objects of inquiry.  On these




BIBLICAL STUDIES.               319
subjects he amassed an extraordinary amount of original
manuscript, and from these sources he was accustomed to
enliven and diversify his dogmatical instructions.
In the classical languages he was well read, though without scrupulous care for those niceties of metre and accent, in
which English scholars take a pride. The Greek of the
New Testament was familiar to him from incessant perusal.
No day passed without deliberate study of this sacred original.
And hn his later years a beautiful Glasgow edition of Griesbach was commonly in his hands during all the private hours
of the Lord's day. Indeed, he frequently complained that
this practice had, to a certain extent, unfitted him for textual
citation of the English version in extemporaneous discourse.
lie accustomed his children to read the Greek Testament,
long before they arrived at it as a school-study; and this
exercise, between morning prayers and breakfast, was kept
up for some years. We have already recorded his first acquaintance with the Hebrew Bible. From that hour he never
relaxed in his efforts to master the venerable language. His
first successful attempts were made in Philadelphia, where
he was stimulated by the example and the counsels of Dr.
Wilson, and aided by the lessons of Hurwitz, a learned Jew.
The splendid large paper, Michaelis edition of Halle, which
he acquired about this time, now lies before us. It was one
of his peculiarities that he treated books with a religious
tenderness, never making in any one of them so much as a
marginal note. This volume was in his hands for nearly
half a century, and to the last of his reading he perused at
least one chapter of Hebrew every day.




320                   ARRIVAL.
In natural connection with this was the study of Criti
cism and Hermeneutics. Although in regard to the latter
he was indebted chiefly to the older school, his curiosity was
wakeful and his knowledge extensive. The history of great
manuscripts, versions and editions was deeply fixed in his
mind, and he always spoke of them  with the familiarity
which the mineralogist has with the specimens of his cabinet.
The qualifications on which we have slightly touched were
the more important, as the new professor was expected to
begin his labours with an attempt in every department of
theological study.
In the month of July, 1812, Dr. Alexander arrived in
Princeton, with his wife then in the bloom and freshness of a
health which endured to old age, and with four children, of
whom the oldest was not nine years old. The change to a
green and airy village, from a heated and populous city, was
exceedingly grateful to one who had been reared in the
mountains, and to whom the restrictions and conventionalities of civic life were always a penance. Disposed at all
times to give frank and prompt expression to what rose
within him, he felt the stricture of a great town and its
ways, and often longed for the shade and scope of the
country. It was perhaps this which led him to regard his
sojourn in Philadelphia as the least agr.eeable portion of his
life.  But now he was to resume what might be called a
country life, and we remember the almost boyish glee with
which he saluted and indicated to his children the salient
points of rural prospects.  He came with his own horses,
and for some years was accustomed with his family to spend




PRINCETON.                   321
much time in easy drives among the pleasing scenes of that
delightful neighbourhood, and to places where his appointments lay. In early life he was a bold and dexterous horseman. He came to be the tiller of a garden, in which art,
however, he did not lay out special endeavours.  The dwelling to which he came was small and inconvenient, in the
least inviting part of the borough; later years afforded him
a much more suitable abode.
On arriving at so important a point in our simple and
uneventful history, and at the place from which it is no more
to remove, we may be allowed to pause a little over the
locality. Princeton is a village which holds out attractions
from its high site and its historical associations. At that
time it stood upon the county line between Middlesex and
Somerset, and just where the hilly or upland country begins
to subside into the tamer slopes which extend towards the
ocean, but which swell eastward into a graceful line of blue
Monmouth hills. The village was for many years little else
than a gathering of houses around the College, which had
been here for half a century. It had been further signalized
by the battle of Princeton, and by the temporary presence
of tile old Congress.  Every thing, however, had reference
to the great and venerable literary institution, whose officers
were the most prominent persons in the place. The ancient
edifice, the ample lawns, and spreading trees, made its
grounds, then as now, the principal charm of the village. Its
cemetery contained the ashes of Burr, Davies, Edwards and
Witherspoon; and in the neighbourhoodl as you rise towards
a hard rocky rildge, was the farm of the last named, which he
lihad called Tuseluhim.




322               PRINCETON FAMILIES.
At this time Princeton was not without many persons of
note, some of whom may be mentioned as more or less connected with the subject of this memoir.  Doctor Samuel
Stanhope Smith was living, and was approaching the term of
his presidentship; and he was beyond question the person
to whom most eyes were directed with favour and admiration.
He is distinctly remembered by us, as he then appeared, in a
beautiful old age surpassing any that we have known.  He
was tall, slender and feeble, bnt erect. The clear soft skin,
and delicate complexion, and mild blue eye, were remarkably
exempt from the traces of age. Many a pupil will recall his
stately venerab)le form, as he walked with velvet cap and
academic gown, in those processions which took place at
least every Sunday, from Nassau-Hall to the church.  The
days of Dr. Smith's activity were nearly ended, and he soon
afterwards resigned.  He was celebrated for his acquaintance
with elegant letters, for the eloquence of his pulpit discourses, and for the matchless courtliness of his manners.
He had formed himself upon the best masters of the French
school; in which endeavour his most celebrated pupil was
the Rev. Dr. Henry Kollock, one of the most ornate yet
vehement orators whom our country has produced; and who
had until recently been the pastor of the village church.
Dr. John Maclean, a native of Scotland, father of President Maclean, was at this time vice-president of the College,
and was eminent as a mathematician and a chemist.  The
Stockton family, always among the most prominent of the
place, was represented by Richard Stockton of Morven, the
second of the name. well remembered as one of the most able




PERSONAL TRAITS.               323
members of the New Jersey bar, and also as a Senator of the
United States.  Samuel Bayard, a descendant of the Huguenot refuigees, a ruling elder in the church, an author of
several works, and a man of mild and affectionate piety, was
a friend, who, as long as he lived, was cherished by Dr. Alexander with true regard. To whom may be added, Dr. John
Vancleve, Colonel Beatty, and others, long since departed, equally respected, but whose names would scarcely interest
the general reader. But time has wrought sad changes. Of
some of the families here mentioned not a vestige remains;
and the writer feels the flight of years, when he observes
that only one house in the long and thickly peopled principal
street of Princeton is occupied by the same family as in 1812.
Thus at the age of forty years Dr. Alexander was girding
on the harness of his most important exertion; at a stage
when, if ever, the human powers are in fulness of vigour, and,
as the event proved, at the precise middle point of his life.
I{is health, though never robust, was not threatened by any
serious indications, and had not yet succumbed to inordinate
study. In Philadelphia he had suffered from short but
violent attacks of rheumatism, and he was beginning by slow
degrees to recognise a train of nervous symptoms, from
which he afterwards endured great discomfort. His habits
were settled, and his mental and moral character had taken
their leading configuration.
Pausing for a moment to recall the picture as then presented, we do not find many striking lines to be added to
those already given. In person he was thin, but his countenance wa! full of life, his complexion was clear, his teeth




324                PERSONAL TRAITS.
as yet spared, his locks, though slightly silvered, unusually
full, and his eye mobile and piercing to an extraordinary degree, as none can forget who ever saw him. As compared
with his later self, we should say that he was characterized
by the great spring and vivacity of his manner and discourse;
more disposed to converse, bold and ready in argument,
sometimes keen in answer or reproof, always open to the
point of what was gay or humorous, free with his children
and their comrades, enthusiastic in his love of scenery and of
music, with a frankness and naturalness in the expression of
opinions and sentiments, which was the more delightful the
more it receded from the canons of artificial society. His
opinions were formed, his lines of study marked out, and in
regard to his manner in preaching the Gospel, he was unQuestionably at a point beyond which he never rose.




CHAPTER THIRTEENTH.
1812.
OPENING OF SEMINARY -PLAN — ANTECEDENT QUALIFICATIONS - EARLY
METHODS-INTERCOURSE WITH STUDENTS —EVENING SERMONS-~ACCO -
SION OF DR. MILLER-RELATIONS OF THE PROFESSORS.
AMODEST man could scarcely be placed in more trying
circumstances than was Dr. Alexander in his new post.
It is much easier to carry on the routine of an established
institution, than to draught the original plan.  In this case
many things remained to be done.  The scheme was not so
much to be carried out as to be created.  There was not
only no foregoing incumbent, in whose steps to tread, but
there coald scarcely be said to be any precedent. In our day
we are familiar with theological seminaries, among Baptists,
Episcopalians, and Methodists; but at that time, such institutions, as distinct from colleges and universities, were new
in America, and scarcely known in Europe. In Great
Britain, France and Holland, clerical training is pursued at
the universities; and even the Prediger-Seminar of some
German States is of late origin, besides being very different
from our theological schools.




326             OPENING OF SEMINARY.
From  the existence for so many years at Princeton of
both College and Seminary, the misapprehension has somewhat naturally prevailed that the two schools are connected;
whereas they have always been totally distinct; one being an
independent chartered institution under a close corporation,
owning no necessary alliance with any sect, and the other
a strictly ecclesiastical foundation, managed by trustees,
and superintended by directors appointed from time to time
by the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church. There
had indeed been theological lectures in the College of NewJersey, and eminent men had proceeded from the instructions of Witherspoon and Smith, but the experiment was
now to be tried of a separate and additional curriculum; and
from this time, all strictly professional lessons in divinity
ceased to be delivered in the College.
The Committee of the General Assembly had indeed
prepared a general scheme or programme of a theological
course to be observed in the new seminary, and in the construction of this, which was framed by Dr. Green, Dr. Alexander's views were largely contributed.  But now, as sole
professor for a time, he was to strengthen this outline, to fill
up its details, and to carry the work into laborious execution.
It can scarcely be doubted that these were among the most
anxious moments of his life. With the highest views of
what was demanded, he unfeignedly shrank from the responlsibility of realizing his large idea, and would doubtless
have laid down the attempt, but from the deep persuasion
that the call was of God, and from the hope that his handcs
would soon be strengthened by the accession of a suitable




LANGUAGE.                    327
Colleague. His first solicitude was concerned in drafting a
plan of study for the three years which had been allotted for
the course. He was next to address himself to the work of
actual instruction. However well furnished in several departments with the general knowledge implied in ministerial
accomplishmenit, he was necessarily destitute of all special
preparations. Not only were lectures to be written, on
branches lying far asunder, but such lacunae were to be filled
up, as exist here and there in the acquisitions of the most
diligent student; while the whole modus of communicating
knowledge and conducting discipline was as yet an affair of
tentative and doubtful effort.
Although called primarily to be a teacher of theology,
in its stricter acceptation, he was led both by strong native
tastes and by convictions of reason, to give first attention to
the criticism and interpretation of the original Scriptures.
With the Greek, as has been intimated, he was sufficiently
familiar to be a competent instructor; but Hebrew literature
was in its infancy in America. The works of Gesenius were
as yet unknown, and the learned labours of Gibbs and Stuart
had not been given to the world. Even in New England
the vowel-points were for a time held in suspicion, and those
who desired to penetrate into their mysteries were fain to
seek after the difficult and very rare volumes of Buxtorf,
Leusden and Opitius.  Conscious of his own imperfect
knowledge, he modestly but indefatigably set about the work
of inculcation, and the few survivors of those small classes
will readily testify how zealously and even enthusiastically
he toiled with themn among the knotted roots of Hebrew




328                BIBLICAL COURSE.
rudiments.  For a number of years, and with increasing
ability, he worked in this field, until relieved by the services
bf a beloved pupil, the Reverend Charles Hodge, now senioi
professor in the Seminary. As it regards Criticism and
Hlermeneutics, it was a department which had great charms
for him, and by extensive reading, compiling and original investigation, he prepared to furnish a system of instruction,
which for some years he delivered as lectures, a number of
which still remain among his papers. We can call to mind
no subject in which he was more uniformly interested, than
the fortunes of the Hebrew and Greek text, the annals of
translation and recension, and the principles of hermeneutical study. To this he added copious instructions in Biblical
Arch.aology, on which he prepared numerous discourses, and
which remained under his control for many years. The
manuscripts on this subject in our possession are more than
would fill a single large volume. It was a topic which
awakened his profound attention and lively feeling; for no
man looked more reverently on the typical Christology
of the levitical law; and none of his pupils can forget the
awe with which he approached the recesses of the expiatory
system, or the felicitous use which he made of the altar and
the propitiatory, in his more purely theological exposition of
the Atonement.  Though far from the extreme of Cocceius,
and though falling short of W~itsius in his interpretation of
Mosaic symbols, he nevertheless differed stilt more fiom that
rationalizing school of American divines, then becoming loud
and influential, who were disposed to reduce the contents of
}evitical typology to a minimnum.  WVe have lived to see a
healthful reaction against this extreme tendency.




THEOLOGY.                   329
As might have been expected, however, his primary
attention was bestowed upon the large round of topics included within the title of his peculiar professorship, that is,
the statement, establishment, and defence of the doctrines
which constitute the Christian system. Deeply persuaded
that many theological errors have their origin in a bias derived from false metaphysics, he set about the methodizing
of his thoughts upon mental philosophy, always keeping in
hand the clew which he had received from his venerated
preceptor, William Graham.  The German philosophy was
as yet unknown among us, and he was never led to travel
the transcendental or "high priori road," but treated mental
phenomena on the inductive method, as the objects of a
cautious generalization. While he uniformly recommended
the perusal of Locke, it was as he often declared, not so much
for the value of his particular conclusions, as for the spirit
of his investigation, the calmness, patience, and transparent
honesty of that truly great man.  He likewise expressed
great favour for Reid, Beattie, Buffier, Campbell and Stewart, with whose general methods, as well as their views of
intuitive truths and constitutional principles of reason, he
was in agreement, while he dissented from many of their
definitions, distinctions, and tenets. These were subjects
which fell in with his tastes, habits of thought and course of
reading; and as preliminary to the development of the revealed system, he regarded them as forming a necessary part
of every complete theological course. And if the acuteness
of his inquiry and the force of his reasoning were ever fiully
exhibited, it is in his lectures on the Will, and his elaborate




330             THEOLOGICAL METHODS.
refutation of Dr. Thomas Brown's work on Causation. From
year to year his scheme of mental philosophy took on a form
of stricter method; yet he may be said to have begun with
it at his entrance upon public teaching. No portion of his
course more awakened the interest of his auditors; and such
was the ingenuity with which he made thesedlessons bear on
theological questions still in reserve, that in the days of
church-controversy it used to be a common remark, that
students who had been imbued with Dr. Alexander's metaphysics were sure to swallow his entire system.  Perhaps the same is true of every theological instructor who
deduces a concatenated system from any clearly defined
principles.
From these topics he turned to the closely allied domain
of Natural Religion. In regard to this, the only safe way of
defining his theological position would be to publish his treatises, and any thing short of this might be misapprehended.
While he was far from being a rationalist, he was never satisfied with the tactics of those reasoners who under the pretext
of exalting revelation, dismiss with contempt all arguments
derived from the light of nature. Here he freely declared
his judgment that many sound, able and pious men had
greatly erred. He rendered due homage, therefore, to the
labours of such writers as Nieuwentyt, the younger Turrettine, and Paley, and spent much time in considering and
unfolding with nice discrimination the various schemes of
argument for the Being and Perfections of God, and the
necessity and antecedent probability of a revelation.  Con-.ected closely with this was the discussion of Ethical Philos



THEOLOGICAL METHODS.              331
ophy, in which he taught from the outset the same doctrines
which have been given to the world in a posthumous work,
and which have awakened severe opposition from those who
find them fatally inconsistent with modern systems of theology.
The anxieties belonging to an attempt to lay down the
great lines of a method for teaching the whole system of revealed truth, to those who were to be the ministers of the
Church, were just and burdensome.  There are a few living
who can recollect the particulars of these instructions. As
compared with those later methods which grew out of continued experience with successive classes, they were probably
more extemporaneous and colloquial; there was plore use
of existing manuals, and less adventure of original expedients. Dr. Alexander, herein concurring with Chalmers, conceived that theology was best taught by a wise union of the
text-book with the free lecture. Finding no work in English
which entirely met his demands, he placed in the hands of
his pupils the Institutions of Francis Turrettine. It was
ponderous, scholastic and in a dead language, but he believed
in the process of grappling with difficulties; he had felt the
influence of this athletic sinewy reasoner on his own mind,
and had observed that those who mastered his arguments
were apt to be strong and logical divines. At this time
there had been no modern edition, and copies were rare; but
the classes were small, and the book was not laid aside until
it became impossible to supply the demand. It would be
very unjust to suppose that the young men were charged
with the tenets of Turrettine, to the injury of their mental




332             PLANS 01' INSTRUCTION.
independence. It is indeed difficult to apprehend the force
of a vulgar argument which sneers at text-books —the convenient wisdom of the mighty dead-but admits any amount
of unwritten dogmatism from the chair of the living professor. Dr. Alexander often dissented from the learned
Genevan, and always endeavoured to cultivate in his students
the spirit and habit of original investigation. It is likely
that his labours at this period derived a peculiar vivacity
from his time of life, from the freshness of the employment,
and from the necessity of adapting himself to a limited
circle. He very laboriously engaged in making such brief
aids in the way of syllabus and compendium as might furnish to the student a.manageable key to the whole classification.  He prepared extensive and minute questions, going
into all the ramifications of theology; lists of which still remain in the hands of some alumni. He assigned subjects
for original dissertations, which were publicly read, and commented on by both professors and students; a near approach
to the acts held in the old university schools, under the scholastic moderator. To this were added, at a date which we
find ourselves unable to fix with precision, the debates of a
theological society, meeting weekly, always on some important topic, and always closed by the full and highly animated
remarks of the professor.
So far as we have been able to discover, the general plan
of the studies in the Seminary received its form at this
time; there were subsequent additions and emendations, but
the main trunks and branches remained the same.  This is
particularly true of the theological course, properly so called.
24




ARRANGEMENT OF TOPICS.             333
The natural and simple light, in which it was a characteristic
of the professor to view all subjects, and the predominance
of logical nexus as the element of association in his mind,
concurred to cause a preference for the ancient and more
obvious scheme of classifying Scripture truth. Hence he did
not adopt the Federal method of arrangement, as it has
been called, of Witsius; great as was his sympathy with
the evangelical warmth and unction of that school. For the
same reasons his judgment disapproved the order suggested by
Chalmers, in the preface to what remains of his original and
striking but fragmentary theological course. For, while he
agreed with this great author in considering the plan of redemption as the ultimate scope and crowning glory of all
theology, he nevertheless preferred as a medium of scientific
c:ommunication, that disposition of topics which takes its
departure from the Being, Attributes, and Works of God;
that is, from Theology in its strictest acceptation. On each
head or title he was accustomed to assign a considerable portion of the text-book, to be carefully perused by the class,
and to be made the subject of a sifting examination; also
naming the chief authors who had treated of the points respectively, and sometimes, when these works were numerous,
allotting them to different students, with a requisition that
they should give some account of each, either orally, or what
was more common, in writing. This examination and these
essays gave rise to brief but animated remarks from the
chair, and he was never more felicitous or more convincing
than in such impromptus; in which his eye would kindle
and flash, and his expressive face become radiant, as he




334                  CONTROVERSIES.
poured forth the gatherings of an extraordinary erudition, oi
pursued the thread of nice and delicate analysis, with a
clearness and closeness of argument which his partial hearers
thought unrivalled.  To this was added, however, and with
greater fulness as years advanced, the delivery of formal and
elaborate lectures on the grand articles of the faith.
The division of this department into Didactic and Polemic Theology, which the Plan of the institution made
imperative, gave the professor an opportunity to go over all
the leading doctrines in the way of defence against the
objections of errorists, heretics and infidels. In doing this
he brought to bear his remarkable stores of recondite reading.
He gave the biography of eminent opponents, clear analyses
of their systems, and refutation of their reasons. Of necessity he was thus carried into the field of DogmengesclicKte,
the progress of controversies, the debates and conclusions of
councils, the construction of creeds, and the whole round of
symbolical theology. What might be considered by some an
inordinate length of time was devoted to the cardinal differences, such as the controversy with Deists, Arians, Socinians,
Pelagians, Arminians, Papists and Universalists; all being
made to revolve around the Calvinistic system, which, upon
sincere conviction, he had adopted.
To prevent a return to this subject, we shall here add a
fear words concerning methods which, as the growth of
experience, were not matured until some years later.  He
was so earnestly in favour of having the young clergyman
armed at all points against adversaries, that he greatly extended his lectures, so as to embrace the varieties of Hea.




POLEMIC THEOLOGY.                335
thenism and Mohammedanism with which missionaries must
be brought into conflict; and also the forms of error which
prevail in our Western country. Accordingly he has left
copious reviews of Campbellism, Shakerism, and even Mormonism, with details which show how largely and attentively
he must have examined all the available authorities of these
heretics. In conducting these studies, he alighted on a
method which gave him great pleasure, and was always interesting to his pupils. Early in the session each member
of the class had allotted to him some erroneous system or
controversy, to be made the subject of a dissertation. The
whole term was sometimes allowed for preparing these, and
some of the essays became almost volumes. Among them
were productions which he prized very highly. All this was
over and above his extensive course of lectures. He was far
from having a stereotyped plan; but besides undertaking
new subjects of instruction in the close of his life, as we
shall have occasion to say, he made frequent changes in his
modus operandi to the last.
It is worthy of note, that while he gave diligent
attention to this part of his duties, he was in no sense an
active controvertist. In private, his error, if he erred, was
altogether in the opposite direction. When falsehood was
read or heard by him, it was the tendency of his mind, from
its strong logical interest, rather to yield himself to the consideration of adverse arguments, and to weigh them with a
judgelike calmness, than to seek on the spot for weapons of
refutation.  His practical maxim  was the  audi altcramn
partenr; and those who were privy to his daily studies were




336            INTIMACY WITH PUPILS.
astonished at the time which he bestowed on the most dangerous writers. And yet his own opinions were held with a
firmness which in his mature years seemed to suffer not even
a momentary shaking. The habits to which allusion has
been made, tended beyond doubt to produce in him a
peculiar reserve and impartiality in stating the opinions of
adversaries, and in refuting them.
There is one charm connected with the opening of a
theological school, which belongs peculiarly to its infant
state, and can never be fully regained in years of greater
prosperity. This is the intimate association between teachers
and scholars. As yet, there were no buildings; the professor's house was at once library, chapel, and auditorium.
The handful of pious young men gathered around their preceptor almost as members of his family; going freely in and
out, sitting at his board, joining in the domestic worship,
and, in a sense, not merely learning of him but living with
him. This continued to be the case for a number of years,
for the Seminary began with three, and did not attain the
number of thirty until the fifth year of its existence. In
such a state of things, there is more freedom and frequency
of intercourse, than when more than a hundred are collected,
when it would absorb all the time and strength of the professor to bestow the same personal attentions. In later
years, it is but just, however, to observe, Dr. Alexander gave
as free access to his study as pupils ever enjoyed of a teacher.
Few moments of the day passed without a knock at his
door; and as his apartment was but a few steps from
the principal edifice, it was resorted to by the young men




CORRESPONDENCE.                 337
with the greatest familiarity, and on every sort of errand
both temporal and spiritual. We may here add, that at no
time of his life was he accustomed to deny himself to visitors; acting, as it should seem, on the maxim which Payson
adopted,-" the man that wants to see me, is the man I
want to see."  But in these early years, the relation of professor and student was peculiarly intimate, as will be remembered by many now alive, who sought his advice in the;
greatest emergencies of their spiritual life.
Some extracts from a family letter of the period, will
add interest to this time of transition.
" October 10, 1812.
"I was dismissed from my charge in Philadelphia, on
the 22d of July. You may guess that I felt some regret at
leaving a congregation in which I have reason to believe
there are many of God's dear children, particularly among
the poor. As in every congregation, however, there are some
who are not of the right spirit, so also in this there were
some men rather turbulent. Though we never had any contention in the Society, I could perceive there was fuel to
cherish the flame if it should ever be kindled. The labours
of a city minister are necessarily very great, where his charge
are numerous; and it is extremely difficult, with any exertion which can be made, to afford universal satisfaction.
And upon the whole, a city is not so favourable for religion,
except among the poor and distressed. I have every reason
to believe that my people were sufficiently attached to me,
and parted with me reluctantly; but most of them were




on3S               CORRESPONDENCE.
convinced that I was following the path of duty. It seems,
however, that God had a controversy with that city, for since
my removal Dr. Green has been elected President of this
College, and has determined to come. Or He may intend to
substitute men whose labours He will more abundantly
]less.
" On the 29th of July I removed my family to this place,
Nhere a house was provided for us, not very large or commodious, but the best which could be obtained. The people
here we found very kind and attentive, and the situation of
the place remarkably pleasant, especially in summer. Every
place however has its inconveniences and difficulties. Heaven
is not to be expected in this world. External circumstances
go but a little way towards making us happy.  The relief
which we receive in our afflictions and distresses has often
more real pleasure in it than we experience in our greatest prosperity.  Little things often disturb our peace as
much as great, and we bear small adversities with less patience than greater, because we do not seek'grace to help.'
During the whole summer our family has through God's
mercy enjoyed uninterrupted health. I am  greatly pleased
to learn that some of your children begin to fear the Lord,
in the days of their youth. I hope you will not be disappointed in the fruit which these early blossoms promise.
There can be no greater pleasure to serious parents than to
see their offspring choosing wisdom's ways and'walking in
the truth.' " —" You may suppose that I have abandoned
preaching.  Very true, it is no part of lmy office, so long as
the school is in a place supplied with the Word; but as I




ATTENTION TO PREACHING.             339
have been so long accustomed to preach, it does not seem
pleasant to be altogether silent, and therefore I preach <very
Sunday evening in my own house; and as often as opportunity offers I ride over to some one of the neighbouring
zongregations, and assist my brethren."
Adverting to the same topic, he writes January 27, 1813:
"It is a part of my duty to preach to my students, who are
nine in number, but as I did not wish to interfere with the
regular worship of the place, I instituted a meeting on
Sunday evening at my own house. No persons attended
but such as were invited, and when the winter commenced,
very few could attend with comfort; but in proportion to
the difficulty of attending was the desire increased, both
among the students and citizens.  At length a large room
was fitted up in one of the College buildings, and I was invited by the Faculty to preach in it.  The place was very
soon crowded, and all the principal families in the place and
vicinity took the lead in attending. We were soon obliged
to seek a larger place, which was also found insufficient to
contain the people who came.  Sometimes more than a
hundred have been unable to get in. We have now removed
to the Refectory or Dining Room [the present Museum], a
room which will hold several hundred people seated, and
even this seems as if it would be scarcely sufficient. The
attention of the people is uncommonly solemn and many appear to be affected, but what the result will be, God only
knows. Two particular facts have encouraged me to hop(
for some good issue. A young man who came here to studldivinity, appeared soon after his arrival to fall under deep




340             SERMONS IN PRINCETON.
convictions. He came to me and told me with many teals,
that he was an unconverted man, and that he wished to
withdraw. But I insisted on his remaining, and he has ever
since been much exercised in mind.  The other case was
very unexpected to me. A daughter of... called on me
the day before she left the place, to converse with me respecting the concerns of her soul. She appeared to be deeply
affected, and so far as I could judge manifested the temper
of a true penitent. She regrets very much that she has not
the opportunity of making a profession of her faith before
leaving the country.  This family has been uncommonly
gay and thoughtless, and I suppose she never mentioned her
case to any of them."
These evening services are well remembered by many, as
connected with their great spiritual delight and progress, if
not with their conversion to God. Young men of different
religious persuasions prized these evangelical instructions;
and it is not many weeks since we heard a bishop of the
Protestant Episcopal church declare that this was the best
preaching he ever heard.  Dr. Alexander's discourses on
these occasions were uniformly of the practical and experimental kind.  They were extemporaneous and animated,
and embodied all those qualities which made him eminently
popular, especially among the common people, who preferred
his free and often irresistible invitations, and the clear ringing
of his lively and penetrative voice, to more staid and scholastic
addresses which smell of the lamp and sacrifice religious to
literary merit.  He was sought after in private by great
numbers who were in distress concerning, their salvation, and




MANNER OF LIFE.                 341
was invited in various instances to labour in fields which the
LIord was blessing by the effusion of his grace.
"Two weeks ago," he writes in the same letter, "I
visited Elizabethtown, to see the work of the Lord which is
going on in that place. Here are about a hundred persons
under deep impressions, and the number is increasing every
day. A place five miles beyond has also received another
shower of divine influence.  Some remarkable cases of
awakening have occurred in both places. 0 that the blessed
influence may spread far and wide!"
It is greatly to be regretted that no letters can be recovered, entering into any detail of his views and feelings as to
the great work of education which he had begun, or the
studies which he was pursuing.  Such correspondence, it
is well known, he maintained somewhat largely with congenial minds, especially with Doctors Rice, Speece, and
Campbell of Kentucky; but from the necessity of the case
we must allow these years to be very much a blank. And
even in regard to those which follow, one year succeeds
another with a felicitous sameness which leaves little for the
narrator.  The same cares, the same labours, the same contentment. A beloved wife and four children, with an increasing circle of pupils, and a great number of visitors, made
happy days in the humble, cheerful home. Death came in
and bore away the youngest child, an only daughter.  Disease gave frequent cause of solicitude respecting the others,
whose lives were nevertheless preserved. The employments
of the study and the lecture-room were incessant and wearing, but they were enthusiastic. The compilation, collec



342                    THE WAR.
tion, translation, revision and refutation, incident to the life
of a young and ardent professor, went on with a diligence of
which the fruits were extant for many years in piles of manuscripts, some of which became lectures, others parts of
published works, while all have long since, and perhaps intentionally, been committed to the flames.
During the first few years there was a peculiar glow of
delight in the mind of the professors, when small companies
of alumni began to try their gifts as probationers, and leave
the nest as the first fledged of the new institution. But
greatly interesting as this was to both parties, it affords
little for record, and most of the persons concerned have
long since gone to their rest. In the years which remain,
therefore, we cannot undertake to set down the quiet events
in the way of annals. Their true history is in the General
Catalogue which registers the names of successive classes.
Externally, the period of which we write was troublous,
for the war with Great Britain was in progress. Except,
however, that general sympathy which every good man must
have with the interests of his country, Dr. Alexander was as
little disturbed as any man in the land. From the site of
Princeton, the village was again and again traversed by
bodies of troops, both going to the field of hostilities and
returning. The whole population was much agitated by
the controversies leading to the war, and by the progress of
the conflict. Privately, he lamented the policy which in-.
volved us in these troubles; but he never took any active
part in politics, never preached a political sermon in his life,
and indeed seldom voted at an election.  In common with




ACCESSION OF DR. MILLER.           343
Christians throughout the Union, he deplored the spiritual
evils consequent on the war; and it was too evident that for
many years there had not been a time of so general decay in
religious zeal and activity. The even tenor of his studious
life was nevertheless pursued, and the gentle stimulus of
new employments added to his happiness.
But the event most worthy of being noted in this connection was the accession of a colleague. Hitherto, as we
have seen, he had conducted his little band of pupils
through all the parts of their preparation. The Reverend
Samuel Miller, D. D., of New-York, was elected to the chair
of Ecclesiastical History and Church Government, by the
General Assembly of 1813; but in consequence of a violent
illness he did not assume his duties until the month of December, in that year. Dr. Iiller brought with him a high
reputation as a preacher, an author, and a Christian gentleman. He was about three years older than his colleague,
being accordingly in his prime of mental and bodily vigour.
His name was widely known from his " Retrospect of the
Eighteenth Century," and more recently from his defence of
presbytery against the attacks of Doctors Hobart and Bowden. For many years he had maintained his post with
honour and esteem, in the First Presbyterian Church of
New-York, where he succeeded the venerable Dr. Rodgers,
after having been his colleague.
This seems to be the first place offered in which to speak
of the mutual relations of the two professors; a subject to
which we shall revert. For six and thirty years they laboured
side by side and were in almost daily communication. These




344              THE TWO PROFESSORS.
were circumstances in which, if any where, one might expect
sinister and unkindly attributes to be drawn forth. In many
particulars they were dissimilar; indeed two men of genuine
piety could scarcely be found more unlike.  Dr. Miller came
from the training of city life, and from an eminently polished
and literary circle. Of fine person and courtly manners, he
set a high value on all that makes society dignified and attractive. He was pre-eminently a man of system and method,
governing himself, even in the minutest particulars, by exact
rule. His daily exercise was measured to the moment; and
for half a century he wrote standing. He was a gentleman
of the old school, though as easy as he was noble in his
bearing; full of conversation, brilliant in company, rich in
anecdote, and universally admired. As a preacher, he was
clear without brilliancy, accustomed to laborious and critical
preparation, relying little on the excitement of the occasion,
but rapid with his pen, and gifted with a tenacious memory
and a strong sonorous voice; always instructive, always calm,
always accurate.
His colleague had received a lasting impress, in manners
and labours, from a very different class of influences. The
inward principle of delicacy and refinement, the soul of true
politeness, we think we may assert, was within him in high
measure. Perhaps no man ever more respected the feelings
of others.  But he was not a man of rules. Eminent natural simplicity was his characteristic. If this led him to be
careless or abrupt, at any time, he cared not for the inelegance, even when he grieved over any occasional offence.
His studies and his way of life were singularly free from all




DIFFERENCES.                  345
constraint and plan. Though a perpetual reader, he seemed
always to read for entertainment, rather than by constraint
A friend once found him deeply engaged in Jack's old worl
on Conic Sections; and in the earlier part of his life he
perused many volumes on physical philosophy. His rest was
in continual change of mental pursuit. Never did he seem
more at a loss than when called upon to lay down regulations
for the hours, the employments or the behaviour of others.
Perfect liberty, as to time, pursuits, and even bodily movements, was almost his passion. Scrupulously clean in his
person, he never seemed to advert to the fashion of his dress.
Animated even to vehemence in conversation on topics which
aroused him, he often had his fits of silence.  While his
door was open to every visitant, and his kind counsel was
freely given, he certainly omitted many a received form,
and would occasionally, during an inordinate visitation, abstract his eye and his attention, and hum a tune to himself.
In the pulpit, he was most himself when he was most truly
extemporaneous; which perhaps was in the mind of the
learned Chief Justice Klirkpatrick, whenll he said, with a jocose eulogy, " Dr. Alexander is the prince of Methodist
preachers."
With such marked differences, it is certainly no slight
matter to record, that during a lifetime of common service,
these two men never had an alienation, or the difference of
an hour. In opinion they frequently diverged; yet mutual
respect and affection were never violated, but rather increased
with every year of their lives.  Placed in circumstances
which might have engendered rivalry, they appeared to re.




346                    HARMONY.
joice in each other's gifts and success. From. the beginning
of their acquaintanceship, Dr. Miller always resorted tc
his younger colleague as his wisest adviser  He admired his
learning, testified the profoundest reverence for his judgment and piety, coveted his company, and unfeignedly delighted in his ministrations. On the other hand, Dr. Alexander regarded his friend and brother with the heartiest
affection.  Again and again has he been heard to say, that
for the charitable use of his means, for adherence to his rules
of self control, and especially for exemption from all traces
of vanity and of envy, Dr. Miller surpassed all men he had
ever known. He was fond of saying, that after more than
thirty years proximity, he had never detected in his colleague
the slightest appearance of jealousy.  This was the more
remarkable, as it is well known that with all his varied excellencies, Dr. Miller as a preacher was less followed by
j)opular ad(lmiration than his friend.
Though we say it by anticipation, it is seasonable to add,
that as years rolled on, and old age arrivckl, the concord and
affection of these servants of Christ presented a beautiful and
edifying spectacle.  They conversed together and prayed
together; and as their hoary heads appeared, with a punctuality belonging to both, in the devotional and other more
public services of the Seminary, the moral influence of the
sight upon their numerous and respectful pupils was happy
and indelible.
After the arrival of Dr Miller, both professors were
actively engaged in preaching the Gospel, not only in Princeton, but in the neighbouring congregations, and even in the




PREACHING.                   347
two great cities, where their labours were constantly in re.
quest. It is impossible to determine which of them most
delighted in the actual labours of the pulpit.  They never
spoke of these as a burden, but eagerly welcomed them ae
a satisfaction.  Before the erection of buildings for the Seminary, there was no separate worship on the Lord's Day, for
the students. The professors however preached frequently,
and in some years in stated rotation with others, in the
village church, and the chapel of the college; the control of
the latter service being in the hands of their friend President
Green.
At an early period in the history of the institution, a
meeting was established on the afternoon of the Sabbath, for
the spiritual edification of the young men, and was maintained during the whole life of these professors; it will be
remembered by hundreds as the Conference, and shall be
more fully noticed. The colloquial addresses which they
delivered here would form a system of experimental theology, if they could be recovered.




CHAPTER FOURTEENTH.
1813 —1817.
TIRST YEARS OF PROFESSORSIIIP-IEALTII-THIEOLOGICAL STUDIES-NUM]
BERS-FISCAL CARES —REVIVAL IN COLLEGE-PREACIING-SPIRITUAL
COUNSELS- IRGINIA-DR. IIOGE-DOMESTIC HABITS.
IN the early years of his life as a professor, Dr. Alexander
began to endure trials in regard to health, which were
destined to overhang him during the whole middle period of
his activity. Princeton, a place proverbially healthful, so as
to deserve Witherspoon's appellation, as the Montpellier of
America, is nevertheless like that salubrious town of France
exposed to the sweep of angry winds, especially about the
breaking up of winter.  To this influence, his delicately
sensitive temperament was peculiarly open.  The east winds
of March and April harrowed his constitution, and produced
a traill  of most distressing symptoms, chilliness, nervous
perturbation and dyspepsy.  At this time began that morbid
wakefulness, which kept him  often whole nights without
refreshment.  He became thin and haggard, and except in
some short intervals this was his condition for many years. It
was however more a general malaise than a serious disability,
25




PRIVATE TOILS.                349
by which he was harassed, and he seldom made these ailments a reason for abstaining from duty, either at home or
abroad. Indeed he rather sought a solace in more intense
occupation of mind, which in turn increased and perpetuated
the evil. His southern friends began to ponder on these
appearances.  "I have ever believed," wrote the Rev. John
H. Rice, "that your present situation is better adapted to
your habits of feeling and of previous study, than any other
in the Presbyterian Church; and have regarded you as
more usefully employed than any other man in our society.
Nothing could make me wish a removal, selfish as I am, but
a regard for your health-may I not add your life. I do not
believe that the climate suits you. If, however, you could
be as usefully placed any where to the South, I should think
it your daty to remove; or if it were certain that you cannot for want of health discharge or sustain the duties of your
office, I should think that another habitation ought to be
sought. What may be the result of certain schemes which
I now have in view, I cannot tell, and therefore I will not
communicate them.":
This was the time of his arduous labour and rapid accumulation.  With a restless activity he pushed his inquiries
far beyond the field of his prescribed course, which was sufficiently extensive. From this time forward he lost no
opportunity of procuring every accessible volume of Latin
theology, belonging to the German, French, Dutch and
Helvetic schools; of these an unusual store may be seen on
* Rev. John II. Rice to Dr. Alexander, May 4, 1817.




350                   BIBLICAL STUDIES.
the shelves of the Seminary collection."'  Nor did he confine
himself to dogmatic or polemic works, but read largely in
the departments of Criticism and Hermeneutics. During all
his life he manifested a strong turn for languages, which was
now indulged in connection with his exegetical studies and
instructions.   His careful application to the Hebrew  and
Greek texts was continued as long as he lived. He assaulted
the Arabic, but as he said with little proficiency. In Syriac
he made further advances; and we remember the lessons in
this language which he gave to a student of 1815, afterwards
widely known as the Reverend Thomas Charlton Henry,
D. D., of Charleston.   His children were enlisted in the
work of copying, and we have a manuscript on Hebrew  Archbeology, in the yet unformed hand of one of his sons. The
reigning controversies of the day awakened his lively attention, and he repeatedly dipped into the Greek and Roman
classics, and even into works on mathematical and physical
science.  It was characteristic of his habits to seek mental
relaxation in a change of grave studies, rather than in what
is denominated light reading, and for many years nothing
* It is with a pensive interest that the writer remembers having noted at
Leyden, for the entertainment of his father, the series of portraits, executed
in the best Dutch style, of those worthies, in learning and science as well as
religion, whose names he had so often heard at home; for instance, of Joseph
Scaliger, Salmasius, Heinsius, Boerhaave, Wesselius, Cocceius, Wittichius,
IIoornbeeck, Van Til, three of the family of Schultens, Ruhnkenius, Havercamnp, Wyttenbach, Wyn-persse, Van Voorst, Perizonius, Witsius, Hemsterblis, De Moor, and Schultingius; also of Vorstius, and Arminius and Episcopius, side by side; information which, alas! never came to the ear for which't wa.s inltended.




IN(IREASED NUMBERS.              61
was more common than to find his evening hours spent over
some ponderous tome of the seventeenth century. His pen
was constantly in activity, and we have been astonished at
the extent to which he made compilations and digests from
standard works in other languages. By slow degrees his
body of lectures on divinity was growing into shape; while,
as has been said, he preferred on many accounts to express
his thoughts in the lecture-room in the unfettered diction of
the moment. Neither now nor at any later period was he
much addicted to modern fiction or modern poetry. Without
being a politician he was always a reader on politics, thoroughly acquainted with all questions of American statesmanship, and all his life long a serious and diligent student
of the best journals; for, like Dr. Arnold, he considered " a
newspaper one of the most painful and solemn studies in the
world, if it be read thoughtfully." In a word, every thing
showed the vigour and spring of a manly spirit, making
trial of its best and as yet unwasted energies.
The number of students during these years was constantly on the increase.  The matriculations were in 1812,
nine; in 1813, sixteen; in 1814, fifteen; in 1815, twentytwo; in 1816, twenty-six; and in 1817, twenty-three.
Among these were some who are living as ornaments of our
own and other churches, including two bishops of the Protestant Episcopal Church, in Virginia and Ohio. "The true
heraldry of the college," says Chalmers, "is her sons."  The
Princeton Seminary has no reason to be ashamed of her
escutcheon. Among those who still survive, it is a pleasing
luty to name, as falling within this period, the Rev. Henry IR




352              CHARITABLE FUNDS.
Weed, D. D., of Wheeling, and the Rev. William Blain, of
Hudson Presbytery, two of the first three alumni; Professor
BIooper, of the Baptist Church; the Rev. John Barnard, of
New-York; the Rev. Dr. Howe, of the Reformed Dutch
Church; the Rev. Dr. Swift, of Pittsburgh; the Rev. Dr.
Biggs, of Cincinnati; the Rev. Doctors Henry, Snodgrass,
Chester, Hodge, Sprague and Magie, and Bishops Johns and
Mcllvaine. But nearly thirty from these six classes are no
more on earth. President Chamberlain, of Oakland College,
belongs to this number, a man of talents and energy, who
came to a tragical end. Professor Graham, of the Union Theological Seminary in Virginia, died almost at the same time
with his venerated preceptor. Larned, a prodigy of early eloquence, whose name is often mentioned with those of Whitefield and Summerfield, shone brightly for a few years, and
then closed his career, in New Orleans. Nevins, of Baltimore,
will never be forgotten by any who esteem childlike piety,
united to genius, wit, and oratorical impression. Newbold, of
1816, was the first of a long catalogue, who devoted themselves to foreign missions; he -was cut down while meditating
a life of hard service on the frontiers of Russia and Tartary.
With these, and with all his students, especially while
their number was small, Dr. Alexander maintained the most
intimate relations. They had constant access to his fireside
and his study; and were aided by him in their pursuits, and
encouraged to propound difficulties and scruples for his resolution.  While as yet there was no church-scheme for the
education of young ministers, a certain number of the stu.
dents were sustained by the voluntary contributions of




LIBRARY.                    35i
churches and individuals; and the sums for this purpose to
a large extent passed through his hands. Having assumed
this labour when he was the only professor, he continued it
to the close of his life. As the numbers increased, and as
the sums came in irregularly as to time and unequally
as to amount, the administration of these funds became
embarrassing, and but for habits of the most rigorous exactness in accounts would have been onerous in the extreme.
At a later period the founding of scholarships, and the
digested plans of the Assembly's Board of Education, placed
this department of labour on a surer basis. But the whole
affair brought the professor into a close and often tender
relation to deserving youth, who confided their necessities
to him, and never failed to find in him a gentle and sympathizing friend.
In this connection may be noticed his endeavours to
gather a library for the institution. At first, the few cartloads of old, second-hand, often odd volumes, raked together
from studies and garrets, scarcely deserved the name of a
library. We well remember when the whole collection was
contained in the professor's study. The gift of Walton's
Polyglott, by the Rev. Dr. Green, was the first token of any
thing like a literary apparatus. In later days the munificence of Mr. Lenox, Dr. Sprague, Mr. Agnew and the Messrs.
Stuarts, has caused a happy change; but it is still to be
lamented that the churches at large are supine upon this
important subject. Public libraries will generally be the
exponent of the degree of scientific and literary advancerlent in a Seminary.  The liberality of donors should be




354                    SERMONS.
invited to this object. But the number is small of those
who estimate the necessity; and zeal for great libraries
always infers a high measure of literary cultivation. In regard to this, we have become accustomed to hear the most
narrow and grovelling opinions, from the lips even of clergymen and so-called scholars; as if the only intent of a library
was to furnish pabulum for the undergraduates. For almost
forty years Dr. Alexander was himself the librarian, and he
never relaxed his exertions to make the collection moro
worthy of the place it occupied.
At this time, it must be remembered, no buildings had
been erected for the use of the Seminary. When the number
of students became too great to be accommodated in the
houses of the professors, they resorted to the public rooms of
the College, which, as well as the library of that institution,
were hospitably thrown open for their use. -During a part
of the time, also, the students of the two seminaries, and
the village congregation worshipped together in the old college chapel, which is now a gallery of paintings; this was
when the Princeton church had been consumed by fire. In
this place Dr. Alexander delivered many impressive discourses, which are remembered by persons now living. At
one time he received a message from Dr. Chalmers, enjoining
it upon him to regard his professorial work as a business sufficient for the powers of any one man, and not to wear out
his strength with preaching; but such was the demand for
nis pulpit labours, that he was as little able to abide by this
rule, as was Chalmers himself, when afterwards he assumed
the chair of instruction.




REVIVAL IN COLLEGE.              355
About the beginning of the year 1815, there was a
general religious awakening in the College of New Jersey.' The divine influence "-we use the language of President
Green-" seemed to descend like the silent dew of heaven;
and in about four weeks, there were few individuals in the
college edifice who were not deeply impressed with a sense of
the importance of spiritual and eternal things. There was
scarcely a room-perhaps not one-which was not a place of
earnest secret devotion!"  More than forty students gave
favourable evidence of conversion.  Among these were a
number who afterwards became members of the theological
institution, and some who rose to eminence in the ministry.
Such an event could not but extend its marked influence to
the Seminary. The students of divinity were much engaged
in labours and prayer among the youth of the college, and a
corresponding solemnity and tenderness were spread over
both bodies. Dr. Alexander and his colleague were largely
engaged in rendering aid to Dr. Green, by repeated sermons and exhortations, and still more by private counsels, to
such as were affected with their earliest spiritual distresses
and joys. It was a period never to be forgotten by those
who witnessed its remarkable impressions and transformations. Though a still greater revival had occurred in the
preceding century, there has been none so extensively affecting the college in any later year. After this, as from time
to time the churches of New Jersey and the bordering states
were visited with similar refreshings, the seminary professors
were accustomed with gladness to give permission to their
students, to visit these scenes of grace, for the increase of




356               SPIRITUAL COUNSELS,
their experimental knowledge, as well as for the exercise of
their gifts.  They also made preaching excursions themselves. as far as their home labours allowed; and at such
times, and more frequently at sacramental gatherings, Dr.
Alexander was wont to break forth in warm and melting
harangues, not inferior to the bursting effusions of his youth.
For notwithstanding the increasing delicacy of his health,
he could endure an extraordinary amount of labour and excitement; and he certainly never seemed so happy or so
much raised above himself, as when amidst listening crowds
he was proclaiming the boundless riches of salvation.
It was during this lapse of years that he began to be
widely known as a spiritual adviser, and to be consulted by
distressed minds, on cases of conscience and other spiritual
griefs. Without ever seeking this-for he always seemed to
assume the place of an adviser with reluctance —he continued
all his life to exercise great influence, perhaps his chief influence, in this quiet department of Christian service. For
such work he was eminently fitted by his singular caution
and wisdom, his personal trials of heart, his deep acquaintance with the inward workings of grace, his sensibility and
tenderness in regard to the afflicted, and his characteristic
secresy and silence about all that was confided to him. Cases
of this sort were constantly arising among his own pupils,
and those who had lately been such. As he advanced in
life, these confidential applications, both in person and by
letter, were surprisingly increased, until the labour became
almost burdensome. But it was undoubtedly by this very
means, noiseless and unobtrusive as it was, rather than by




MODES OF INFLUENCE.              357
formal teaching, by sermons, or by authorship, that he built
up that character and attained that influence, which were
so universally recognised in the church. He lives now, in
the memory of great numbers, especially of the clergy, as
eminently a wise counsellor and a spiritual guide. In regard
to such communications, his reticency was almost extreme,
and of his large correspondence on such topics, he committed
every vestige to the flames.
While we are alluding to his influence in the Presbyterian
Church, some other particulars merit a passing notice. It
was not yet by written works, for his career of publication
had not yet commenced. The moulding power which he
was already beginning to wield, and which has never been
denied even by those who viewed it with dissatisfaction,
operated in more silent ways; by the truth communicated
to his successive classes, and the impressions left on their
character; by a large and valuable correspondence, the very
delicacy of which has prevented its appearance more largely
in these pages; by ministerial visits, and in his more active
years by journeys; by the weight of opinion and argument in church-courts, and by the perpetual force of his
evangelical preaching, in which he never relaxed till the very
end.
The year 1817 brought to him a singular gratification, in
a visit from his venerated friend, the Rev. Moses Hoge, D. D.
The life of Dr. lIoge belongs so much to the history of the
Southern Church, that we feel justified in adding to what has
already been said some particulars from another manuscript.
"Moses Hoge was the son of a very intelligent, orthodox and




358              VISIT OF DR. HOGE.
pious farmer, who spent the early part of his life in Pennsylva.
nia, within the bounds of t'Ghe Philadelphia Presbytery. With
this aged man the writer, when very young, was providentially
led into an acquaintance.  Travelling in 1791, he had the
misfortune to have his horse badly foundered, and was left by
his company at the house of Mr. Solomon Hoge, in Frederick
County, Virginia, with whom the old gentleman then lived
at the advanced age of eighty-four years. Nearly the whole
of several days was spent in listening to Mr. Hoge's explanation of his views on a number of points in theology; and
the writer can declare that he never in any equal time, as he
now thinks, derived so mir,b. light as from this aged farmer.
He told me, that whern grown to manhood he deliberately
and seriously sat dover and went through the Westminster
Confession of Faith, to see whether the doctrines were
founded in Scripture; and after a careful examination of
this formulary, he was able to adopt the whole, as indeed the
truths taught in the Word of God.  He was often present
at the meetings of the Philadelphia Presbytery.  His judgment in regard to most of the members was not very
favourable; the individual whom he valued most was a Mr.
Wilson, whom he said the others were continually persecuting on some account or other. The Presbyterian Church
was that in which Mr. Hoge had been born, baptized and
educated, and with which he first joined in communion; and
in this he continued, until the Synod passed the act called
the'Adopting Act,' which indulged such persons as were
scrupulous in regard to certain articles to express their exceptions to the Presbytery, who were permitted to license and




DR. HOGE.                   359
ordain, if they judged the matter not to be of essential importance. When this act was passed, it gave great dissatisfaction, and some, the number of whom- cannot be determined, left the Presbyterian Church, and joined the Seceders,
who were then beginning to raise their standard. Among
these was Mr. Hoge.  This fact, so far as my recollection
serves me, was not communicated to me by the old gentleman, but by his son the Rev. Dr. Hoge. And I am certain
that when the communication was made, I had never heard
of such an Act, nor could ever obtain sight of it until the
last minutes of the Old Synod were published a few years
since.
"Moses Hoge was considerably advanced in manhood
when he commenced the study of the Latin language; but
by diligence and assiduous application he made up for the
loss of early instruction. Nor had his mind previously been
left uncultivated.  Being of a sedate and studious turn he
read many books, by which his understanding was strengthened and enriched with various knowledge. It has often
happened, as we have seen in the case of M3r. Graham himself, that a late commencement of classical studies does not
result in an imperfect or superficial scholarship.  He became
an accurate and profound scholar, and acquired a perfection
of mental discipline to which very few attain. Having laid. good foundation in Latin and Greek, he resorted to the
academy of Mr. Graham, where he pumsued his studies with
indefatigable industry, and exhibited that purity, meekness
and devotedness of Christian character, which conciliated
the esteem  of all who knew him.  Here, also, under Mr.




360                   DR. HOGE.
Graham's direction, he studied divinity, and was in due time.
licensed to preach the Gospel by the Presbytery of Hanover;
then the only one in Virginia.
"Although Mr. Hoge's talents were of the first order,
and his knowledge was accurate and extensive, he had a poor
delivery. His voice was husky and irregular in its intonations, and the muscles of his face were subject to a peculiar
and visible excitement while he was speaking. When, therefore, he obtained licensure, he did not seek any conspicuous
situation. He went and spent some time under the roof of
the Rev. Dr. Waddel, then the most celebrated pulpit orator
in Virginia. What benefit he derived from intercourse with
this great and good man is not known, but it is certain that
he ever afterwards entertained for him the highest veneration
and the greatest admiration of his talents. Indeed, Dr.
Waddel excelled in private conversation as much as in the
pulpit, and was always ready to disclose his own views and
sentiments to young students and ministers with the utmost
freedom.
"Wishing to be useful in conveying the precious message
of the Gospel to the destitute, Mr. Hoge had his attention
directed to a part of the country on the South Branch of the
Potomac, where was a tract of very fertile land, and where a
number of Presbyterian families had settled, but where no
minister of the Gospel had ever resided.  Here he laboured
assiduously for several years, in the study and in the pulpit.
It was his habit to write every sermon and commit it to
memory.  At first he cultivated an elegant and rather
flowery style; but finding that he thus shot over the heads




DR. HOGE.                  361
of his people, some of whom were of German descent, and
imperfectly acquainted with the English language, he
changed his manner of preaching so as to accommodate himself to the capacity of his hearers.  In this sequestered
situation, Mr. HIoge was deprived of all literary and refined
society, and was very far removed from his, brethren in the
ministry, and from the meetings of the Presbytery, which he
nevertheless felt it to be his duty to attend. An opening [for
removal] occurred at Shepherdstown, in Berkeley County,
by the dismission of the Rev. John McKnight to Pennsylvania. The conoregation at Shepherdstown was small, but
intelligent and highly respectable.  He had, however, to
come after a man much admired for pulpit eloquence. Mr.
McKnight composed his sermons with great care, and after
committing them to memory, delivered them in a very pleasingr and animated manner. As to mere elocution, Mr. HIoge
fell immeasurably behind his predecessor; but he possessed
qualities which in the esteem of judicious men more than
compensated for his want of eloquence. He had a pure and
ardent spirit of piety, and always fed his flock with sound
evangelical truth, thoroughly digested and prepared before it
was exhibited. He had also an invaluable habit of watching
for opportunities to be useful. Into whatsoever company he
came, he always aimed to say something which he hoped
would be useful. Shepherdstown was at that time under
the care of the Carlisle Presbytery, but Mr. Hoge was a
member of the Lexington Presbytery. He received, there.
fore, firom  the former body, a letter inquiring by what
authority he occupied a vacant congregation under their




362                   DR. HOGE.
care, without their permission.  Mr. IHoge wrote back is
letter replete with Christian feeling and good sense, and with
some sprinkling of wit. He continued, however, in connection with the Lexington Presbytery, to which were annexed,
some time after, all the churches in the Valley south of the
Potomac.
"Mr. Hoge remained in this place until the year 1807,
when he received an invitation to become president of Hampden Sidney College, where he spent the remainder of his
days. Soon after his removal to that place the germ of the
theological school was formed, and he was appointed professor of theology by the Hanover Presbytery; and a number
of young men had the privilege of receiving his instructions
in theology. This was the origin of the Union Theological
Seminary, which has since risen to importance, chiefly by
the unwearied exertions of the Rev. John H. Rice, D. D.
"In the year 1810, Mr. Hoge was honoured with the
degree of Doctor of Divinity by the College of New Jersey.
On account of his extreme modesty in regard to his own
attainments, this was quite unexpected, but it has seldom
fallen on one who more truly deserved it. His success in conducting the college was equal to any reasonable expectations.
The institution being almost entirely without funds, and
having fallen into much irregularity as to the usual order
of classes, gave some difficulties to one who had himself
never enjoyed the privilege of going regularly through a
college course.
"As a preacher, Dr. Hoge was much admired by spiritual
and judicious persons. Men who had never been accustomed




PREACHING OF DR IJOGE.            363
to Presbyterian preaching, attended with delight on his
ministry. Among these was the late eloquent out eccentric
John Randolph; who about this time had come under
serious impressions of religion. Mr. Randolph courted the
acquaintance of Dr. Hoge, and entered freely into conversation with him. During this period of his life, Dr. Hoge
preached without writing his sermons, and commonly without
much previous study; but he pursued trains of thought
which had become familiar to him. The charm of his preaching was the strong genuine feeling by which he appeared to
be actuated in all that he said; giving himself up to such
sentiments as at the moment rose in his mind; and his pious
emotions during utterance were often exceedingly strong.
But he was never hurried by his feelings into any thing like
rant or extravagance. He never lost the balance of his
mind, but preserved that sobriety and solemnity which are
always wanting where extraordinary excitement takes place.
He was fond of casuistical preaching, aiming by nice discriminating marks to remove the perplexities and doubts
which he found to be common among the good people of the
region where he now laboured. Perhaps he carried these
searching disquisitions too far, and multiplied the evidences
of sincerity too much. All who were acquainted with Dr.
Hoge admitted that they had never known a man whose
whole character both as a Christian and a minister was more
unexceptionable and consistent. IHe seemed habitually to
retain on his mind a sense of the Divine presence, and was
ever ready to engage in the most spiritual conversation. He
was condescending and patient in dealing with the most




364               VISIT OF DR. HOGE.
ignorant who wished for instruction, and seldom lost an
opportunity of addressing a word of instruction or exhortation
to any servant who might be waiting on him. He seldom
met with ill treatment from any, and never indulged in
angry or resentful feelings.  In regard to the things of this
world, I never knew a man more indifferent. Indeed he did
not suffer his mind to be harassed with cares of this kind.
During a large part of his life his salary was very small, but
he was contented in every condition, and trusted in Providence amidst all circumstances. He might indeed have turned
his attention to farming, as was the practice of most of his
brethren in Virginia. But he had set out with the determination to devote his whole time to the work of the ministry,
trusting Providence for a support; and he advised all young
clergymen who consulted him, to pursue the same course.
I-Ie however never censured such as did otherwise.  While
president, he suffered no young man who was seeking the
ministry to go away for want of support. To all pious youth
his purse and his house were open, and he treated them with
all the kindness of a father and all the familiarity of a friend
or a brother.  His influence on young men was exceedingly
salutary.  When he found them self-confident and dogmatical, he would not attempt to repress this disposition in any
other way than by free discussion, and by showing them
difficulties in their own theories, which probably had never
occurred to them.
"Though his health had been declining for some time, Dr
Hoge was induced, in the year 1820, to undertake a journey
to the north.  He had a particular desire to meet once in




VISTT OF DR. HOGE.                 r5
his life with the American Bible Society, for which institution he had a high regard. As he could also attend the
General Assembly as a commissioner, and visit friends that
were dear to him at Princeton, he determined to venture,
weak as he was; and at first it seemed as if his health would
be benefited by the journey. He attended the anniversaries
at New-York in the beginning of May, and then on his
return stopped at Princeton, where he spent several days in
cheerful and useful conversation with an old friend. He
seemed to take a deep interest in the place and its important
institutions, and especially felt himself to be on hallowed
ground, when he reflected that the ashes of Burr, Edwards,
Davies, Witherspoon and Smith were deposited in the cemetery. It was an object of special desire with him to visit the
tombs of these eminent men, to whom the Presbyterian
Church is so much indebted. But soon after his arrival in
Princeton, there came on a cold eastern rain which continued
for several days. He went out in this inclement time, and
stood long enough to read all the Latin epitaphs, some of
which are long. This imprudence, if it may be so called,
was the occasion of his death.
"The writer accompanied him to Philadelphia, and the
first night was spent in Trenton, where, at the earnest request
of several persons, Dr. Hoge preached in the church by
candle-light. Very little opportunity was offered for giving
notice, except by the ringing of the church-bell. The sermon was on Romans x. 9; and I see that a discourse on
that text has been published from his manuscripts; no
doubt the same in substance which he then preached. Soon




366             RELATIONS TO VIRGINIA.
after arriving in Philadelphia he was seized with a typhus
fever, from an attack of which he had recovered but a short
time before leaving home.  His illness continued several
weeks, so that there was opportunity to send for his wife
and his son Thomas, a physician, both of whom arrived before
his decease.  There was nothing remarkable in the exercises
of his mind, but a calm submission to the will of his heavenly
Father, and a kind and grateful feeling to all around him.
His disease was attended with much languor and debility,
which could not but affect his spirits, and prevented that
cheerful animation which was common in health."`::'
It has often been. observed with justice, that though Dr.
Alexander had removed from his native state, he never lost
influence there. Until his last breath, he was intensely a
Virginian; and nothing more kindled his restless eye, or
animated his nervously mobile frame, or called out his colloquial fires, than any occasion for vindicating the honour of
the "old colony and dominion," as the ancient writs have it.
In return, his opinions continued to have much weight in the
Virginia churches. More than once they sought to win him
back to their bosom. In numerous instances, of which the
precise dates are unfortunately lost to us, he made visits to
this beloved region, preaching everywhere, renewing the
friendships of his youth, mingling with the immense gatherings, who, according to the custom of the land, met or
followed him at sacraments, presbyteries and synods, and
thus keeping up the connection to which he owed so much of
nis active usefilness.  It needs scarcely be said to those who
* MS. Life of the Rev. William Graham.




INVITATION TO VIRGINIA.            367
knew him, that as it regards his judgments, feelings, and
policy, he was uniformly reckoned, in every good sense, a
Southern rather than a Northern man. More especially in
his abhorrence of extreme and fanatical abolitionism, he never
bated a jot; having constantly and firmly predicted its degradation into infidelity, which has now become patent to
the world.
For evidence of the strong hold which he continued to
have upon his friends in Virginia, we need only advert to
some transactions which are brought to light by his correspondence, though never made the subject of his conversation. In 1820, he was again elected Pr:esident of Hampden
Sidney College. The congregation of Cumberland simultaneously tendered to him a call to become their pastor, with the
understanding that he was also to preach at the College
church and at Briery. Immediately after this, the Synod
of Virginia chose him their professor of Theology. These
offers he declined.'
A glance at his domestic habits during this period will
not be here out of place; and what is to be said may be
taken as applicable, with certain obvious modifications, to a
number of preceding and following years.  He was now
between forty and fifty, slender in person, clear in complexion, with a slight silvering of his abundant brown hair. Hif
body was open to sudden impulses, seldom long at rest, and
prone to motions and gestures which were highly animated.
and expressive, rather than graceful. Like most new-comers
from a city, he for a time devoted himself to horticulture,
* Letter of Col. Samuel Venable, October 28, 1820.




368                DOMESTIC HABITS.
but it never gained his heart, and he puTrsued it less
than even his respected colleague, who likewise fell off in his
zeal., He was always an early riser, and the older inhabitants of Princeton bear in mind his frequent long walks with
his three elder sons, who were then little boys. He long
retained his youthful fondness for a horse, and indulged
moderately in riding and driving.  Sometimes visiting the
sea-side, he used to vaunt that he could swim as boldly as
when he was a child. His delight was in his family. After
being deeply absorbed in study or teaching, he would come
in, full of animation and ready to relax at the fireside. It
was always his custom-a most delightful one for all about
him-to pour out the fulness of his thoughts upon all that
interested him, at the table and in the domestic group.
Coming from his newspaper, his book, his class, from visits,
church or journey, he gave forth a perpetual and vivacious
flow of information.  Nothing had escaped his eye, and
nothing even of details seemed to be withheld in his narrative, yet without tedium or repetition. These daily conversations were the chief entertainment of his life, as they are
the most delightful recollections of his household. Through
his whole life his house was much frequented by guests, but
at this period, though his quarters were never so strait, he
was most visited from abroad. Giving a hearty welcomes
and most elated when his table was fullest, he gave himself
little care as to display or fashion. Many who may read these
notices will recur with a melancholy pleasure to the days
and weeks which they have passed under his simple but
hospitable roof. He was addicted to sacred music, and as




LOVE OF TEACHING.                369
both he and Mrs. Alexander were gifted wit;h clear and
pleasing voices, the hours of family intercourse were enlivened by many a psalm and sacred song. When such men as
Dr. John H. Rice, or Dr. Finley, or Dr. Janeway, were added
to the circle, the conversation took a higher flight, and we
remember in his fireside discourses of that day a vehemence
and impressiveness, which were wanting, except at some
favoured moments, in his later years. In all that regards
the indulgence of the table, he was frugal and plain in his
tastes, and happily temperate without any thing like dietetic
rigour.
Nothing more characterized him than his fondness for
communicating instruction, on every subject, even the most
elementary, within his reach. It might be the alphabet, or
Hebrew and Syriac grammar, or geometry and surveying in
which he was fully versed, or metaphysics; he was unwearied
and delighted, if only he had willing learners; and he had
the art of making every learner willing. Though he sent
his boys to school, always giving his suffrage for the dayschool method, he was constantly teaching his children.
Every one of them received from him, and commonly on his
knee, the rudiments of spelling, arithmetic, geography,
algebra, geometry, and the classic languages.  He would
pass hours in a day giving lessons in the alphabet; breaking
off a hundred times, as he observed the first symptom of
weariness. For in regard both to himself and others, he
acted on Shakspeare's adage, " No profit grows, where is no
pleasure taken." Every corner of the house was occupied by
bits of paper, flying like sibylline leaves, and covered with




370                 HOME LESSONS.
spelling-lessons, executed by himself in printing characters,
and decorated with bold but most unartistic drawings of
beasts, birds and houses. As the little ones got on to the
dead languages, which, on his plan, was very early, similar
papers contained lists of Latin words; these were to be
committed to memory; and in the case of one son, the
number of such words amounted to thousands. He quoted
with approval the testimony of Dr. Witherspoon, who in
presbyterial trials used to examine the candidates on'vocables' rather than on translation of books. These avocations
were confined to no hours. It might seem strange how he
could endure the interruption; but it was his peculiarity
that he seemed incapable of being interrupted. Except in
hours of devotion, his study was always free to his children,
even the youngest; noise made no difference; their books
and toys were on his floor; and two or three would be
clambering upon him, while he was handling a folio or had
the pen in his hand. In times of health and spirits, his
manner of playing with his children was amusingly romping
and even boisterous, and he threw them about with a
sprightliness which often extorted a momentary cry of fear
or pain. To this may be ascribed the unusual freedom
which they always had in his presence, but which was
checked in a moment when he grew suddenly sad or grave,
as was often the case. Before dismissing the matter of
family training, we ought to mention his constant and animated conversations with his children. It was his solace, at
home and by the way. Without the slightest appearance
of plan, but with an easy and spontaneous flow, he was,




GRAPHIC PREACHING.                371
during some hours of every day, pouring forth a stream of
useful information, on all subjects, but chiefly on religion.
The whole wealth of his extended reading and observation
seemed at one time or another to be distilled in these familiar
interviews. All the romantic and stirring events of his early
mountain life, the tales of Indian massacres, to which his
grandmother had fallen a victim, his journeys in new countries, and his schoolboy days, came in for their share. He
excelled in graphic narration, and attracted the attention of
guests and strangers, even when directly addressing himself
to babes. As soon as a child could comprehend the subject,
he began with the beautiful stories of the Bible, and repeated
them again and again, until the little ones were perfectly acquainted with them  long before they could make use of
books. It was a common thing for his hearers to be melted
to tears. This natural and extraordinary gift led him to
indulge in biblical narrative in the pulpit, to a degree which
we believe to be uncommon, and gave a singular attraction
to certain discourses, especially on the parables-and miracles
of our Lord. For the same reason his addresses and sermons
to children were incomparably winning, and his labours in
this kind were sought for, far and near, much beyond his
ability of supply. Without trying to speak in monosyllables,
as if these were more intelligible than longer words, he always made himself perfectly intelligible to the humblest
capacity.
Here it gives us great pleasure to insert the testimony of
a venerable servant of God, the Rev. Dr. Samuel B. Wilson,
since Professor of Theology in the Union Theological Semi



372          SERMON AT FREDERICKSBURG.
nary. The incidents which he relates come within TL I
period of which we have been treating. "In October, 1816,
the Synod of Virginia sat in Fredericksburg:-Dr. Alexander came on from Princeton, to meet his brethren in the
ministry there. To these brethren, the companions and
fellow-labourers of his early days, he was strongly attached.
According to the custom of Synod, there was preaching every
day and every night during the meeting. The congregations
were large, attentive, and deeply interested in the services.
The Superior Court was in session there at the same time,
and drew together a large collection of men distinguished for
their intelligence.
" The fame of Dr. Alexander had gone before him, as a
superior preacher, and a man occupying the highest station
in the Presbyterian Church. Great anxiety was consequently manifested to hear him. On Sabbath day the
sacrament of the Lord's Supper was to be administered, and
it was announced that Dr. Alexander would preach the
Action sermon. At an early hour the church was filled to
its utmost extent. Among the audience was found the
Judge of the Court, Judge Brockenborough, of Richmond,
many lawyers and physicians, and not a few who seldom
entered the house of God. Dr. Alexander began his sermon
with that humility and simplicity for which he was ever so
remarkable. Such an introduction, to men accustomed to
judge of greatness by pompous manners and splendid diction, produced a feeling of disappointment, and one eminent
lawyer, who afterwards became a Judge of the Court of
Appeals, rose from his seat and left the church.




THE PASCHAL LAMB.               3'7
"The text which he had selected was 1 Cor. v. 7.'For
even Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us.' As he advanced in explaining the origin, design, and typical signification of the Jewish Passover, he became warm and animated,
and soon commanded the attention of his whole audience,
and awakened a universal and intense interest. During the
discourse of that morning, which many will recollect as long
as memory lasts, several incidents occurred which showed
the power of true Christian eloquence.
" As he passed from the description of the Jewish passover, to the sacrifice of Christ, he said, bending forward and
looking intently on the communion table spread before
him, where the bread and wine lay covered,'But where is
our lamb?' At these words, so impressively uttered, and
accompanied by a gesture so significant, an old French
dancing master, who scarcely ever entered the church, rose
from his seat near the pulpit, and gazed intently, to see if
there was not something on the communion table, which he
had not yet seen. An intelligent little girl, too, who sat before him, after she returned home, said:'Aunt H. did you
ever hear such a man? When he said, "Where is our lamb,"
he seemed as if he was looking for a lamb on the communion
table.'
" As he proceeded in describing the successive scenes of
our Saviour's sufferings, his hearers became deeply and almost
universally affected. Feelings which could scarcely be suppressed were manifest in every part of the house; and tears
were seen rolling down the cheeks of many but little accustomed to weep. When he depicted the last scene of our




374            SACRAMENTAL DISCOURSE.
Saviour's sufferings on the cross, that power of descriptive
painting, for which he was remarkable in his pulpit efforts,
was displayed in a manner rarely surpassed by the most
accomplished orators. Amidst the unutterable agonies which
Jesus suffered while hanging on the cross, he introduced
Mary his mother among the spectators, beholding the cruel
sufferings of her beloved son, and quoted the prediction of
Simeon as there fulfilled:'Yea, a sword shall pierce through
thy own soul.' Such was his gesture, his voice, his whole
manner, that had Mary actually stood before the audience,
with flowing tears and every token of deepest sorrow, the
impression could hardly have been increased.
"'Dr. Alexander never aimed to excite mere animal
feelings. The effects produced were the result of Bible
facts and truths, clearly presented by one who believed them,
and felt their power. During the delivery of that discourse,
it would have been easy, repeatedly, to have produced an
amount of feeling that could not be controlled. Such, however, was his command over himself and his audience, that
besides the speaker's voice, nothing was heard but, here and
there, a half suppressed sob, and nothing seen to disturb the
solemnity of divine worship.
" Many heard Dr. Alexander on that occasion, for the
first and last time; but it is believed that the revelations of
the final judgment will prove that his labours then were
blessed to the good of many souls.":
To this may be added a short narrative from the pen of
* Virginia Historical Register, Jan. 1852, p. 43.




COMMUNION IN PHILADELPHIA.           375
the late venerable President Brown.  "I particularly remember," says he, " some time after he went to Princeton, a
sacramental service in the Northern Liberties, where Mr.
James Patterson was pastor. There had been an extensive
and powerful revival of religion at that time, as there had
often been under the ministrations of that excellent though
somewhat eccentric man. The church was crowded; I presume a majority of the ministers [of the Assembly] attended.
I suppose near a hundred new communicants stood up in the
aisles and were addressed by the pastor. After this Dr. Alexander, who had been previously engaged for this service, arose
to administer the ordinance. After some preparatory remarks,
before distributing the bread and the wine, he began with a
supposition that the Saviour himself was present, and proceeded to inquire what in such case he would probably say.
In a manner at once plain, solemn, searching, and adapted
to the various conditions of Christians, he presented the
most touching appeals I had ever heard on such an occasion.
It almost seemed to me that these were the very words as to
matter and manner which Christ himself would have uttered.
After dispensing the elements, he concluded in the same
admirable strain, using language which a child might understand. He addressed different classes; first commlnicants
in general; then those newly admitted, in very melting
strains; then the unconverted, and such as had refused to
own Christ.  He addressed the ministers of the gospel,'fathers and brethren' then present.  He addressed young
men and young women, and closed by speaking to little
children, in the very manner of Him who took special notice




376              TRAITS OF PREACHING.
of such, and said,'Forbid them not.' The effect was extraordinary; all were melted into tears. I had never heard
any thing to be compared to it."":
We have thus, in the absence of documents, and in regard to a period prosperously monotonous and void of great
external events, endeavoured to fill the blank with minor
characteristics, which go to make up the portraiture of the
man; and this to some extent must be our resource in the
nzhapter which shall follow.
* Letter of the Rev. Matthew Brown, D. D., to Henry M. Alexander.




CHAPTER FIFTEENTH.
1818-1829.
CHIUROE - LABOURS -  PROGRESS OF SEMINARY - PRIVATE HABITS AND
DAILY ROUTINE-THE CONFERENCE-CIIARACTER OF IIIS PREACHINGTHEOLOGICAL TROUBLES-COMMENCEMENT OF AUTHORSHIP-BIBLICAL
REPERTORY - COLONIZATION - CORRESPONDENCE.
THE period of ten or twelve years, beginning with 1818,
was so much like that which preceded it, and so void of
stirring changes, that we feel the difficulty of treating it,
so as to escape the charge of wearisome repetition. Yet it
was a time of quiet and happy progress, both as it regards
the professor and the school. During this term of years he
made several visits to Virginia, in some of these being accompanied by his family.  These tours, especially in the
years 1818, 1821, and 1825, are remembered by many in his
native State; for he was called every where to the work of
preaching, and indulged freely in that flow of extemporaneous argument and exhortation, which more than all things
else seemed to bring out every latent power of his mind and
heart. He was also during these years repeatedly a commissioner to the General Assembly. In this court he was fre



378                 CHURCH COURTS.
quently entrusted with important parts of business, and
some of the public papers bear the marks of his hand. It
cannot be said that he was a frequent speaker; but when he
addressed the house on great subjects, to which he very
much confined himself, he was uniformly heard with attention, and the candour and force of his argument always
carried weight with the hearers.  Some testimony of his coeval and friend, the Rev. Matthew Brown, D. D., President of
Jefferson College, cannot here seem inappropriate.  " I find,"
says he, "in the minutes of 1803, that (Mr. Alexander) was
one of a committee'to report on the state of religion,' as
collected from the statements of the several members who
were called on in order.  Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Miller was
chairman; there is, however, I think, internal evidence that
it was written by Mr. Alexander, or at least that the information and sentiments were from him. No man in that
house was so well qualified to give a faithful account of these
remarkable revivals.  This report partakes of the same
spirit which led him to write the History of the Log College.
-There was one memorable occasion which is worthy of
special notice; it was probably in 1820 or 1821. He was
the chairman of a committee to report some alterations in
the old Confession of Faith, and particularly in the Form of
Government.  There was a filll and free discussion of the
changes proposed. He spoke very little, and was always
brief, as was his manner in church courts. On this important occasion, he was frequently called upon to explain; and,
after attending to the objections and debate, he arose with
great modesty, and in a few words, in a lucid and conclusive




PROGRESS OF SEMINARY.              379
way removed all the difficulties.  This usually closed the
discussion, and I do not remember an instance in which his
views did not prevail. It reminded me of what is stated of
Dr. Witherspoon, that he did not speak until other members
had discussed the subject, when in a concise, clear, and forcible
manner, he gave his views, and generally with a unanimous
result."
On practical questions we are secure in saying that no man
was regarded as a safer or wiser counsellor. At the same
time, it is fair to add, that when parties ran high, his characteristic mildness and caution led many to designate him,
sometimes not without a sneer, as a moderate man. This
term was used, however, solely in regard to measures; for in
respect to doctrine, there was no period of his life in which
he did not clearly stand forth, beyond suspicion, as a believer
and maintainer of the old Westminster tenets, in their strict
interpretation.
In the Theological Seminary, every thing was settling
itself into an established form of prosperity, which gave
general satisfaction to the Church. The numbers had been
greatly increased, and the stream of accessions was steady.
The matriculates were in no year fewer than twenty; in
1822 they rose to fifty, and in 1823 to sixty-nine. The
number of students, which had been forty-seven in 1817,
became considerably more than a hundred. Several Synods
began to entertain the project of a full endowment for three
professorships. But there was nothing which made a greater
impression, on students and on the public, than the erection
of an edifice for the accommodation of the young men. Into




380                  COLLEAGUES.
this solid and excellent building, though but partially finished
within, they entered in the year 1818. About the same
time Dr. Alexander removed his family into the commodious
dlwelling in which he was destined to end his days. At this
stage of progress, the public rooms of the Seminary were
within the large edifice, as yet the only one. These were the
Oratory or Prayer Hall, also used for lectures and religious
meetings, and theological debates; the Refectory, and two
library chambers. All concerned felt the cheering influence
of this change to premises which they could call their own,
and which had an air of comfort and permanency. The
students were brought more near to one another and to their
teachers. The result was seen in greater diligence and punctuality, increased fellowship in religion and zeal in the pursuit of knowledge; so that we suppose there has never been
a period in the history of the Seminary, during which there
was more animation or delight in all parties. Of the alumni
of this period, we number among the departed such men as
Dr. Wisner, of Boston; Dr. John Breckinridge, and Dr.
Potts, of St. Louis; the Rev. Horace S. Pratt, of Georgia;
the Rev. James W. Douglass, of Virginia; the Rev. John
H. Kennedy, of Pennsylvania; the Rev Joseph Sandford, the
Rev. Joseph S. Christmas, of New-York; the Rev. Alexander
Aikman, the Rev. Professor Dod, of the College of New
Jersey; the Rev. Samuel G. Winchester, of Natchez, and
the Rev. Theodore Wright, a man of colour.
In the new circumstances, Dr. Alexander felt himself
invigorated and advancing. With his colleague, Dr. Miller,
he maintained the most pleasing and harmonious intimacy;
27




HABITS OF THE STUDY.              381
and when an additional helper came, it was in the person
of the Rev. Charles Hodge, whose talents he had early discerned, and whom he regarded more as a beloved Bon than
even as a cherished pupil. He had by this time accumulated
and digested much of what was to be the matter of his
teachings; at least he had surveyed the entire field, and distinctly marked out its boundaries and divisions. His study
door was over against the Seminary entrance, and very near
to it. These few steps he might be seen to take day by
day, at the appointed hours, always in fill time. And during
many years of his life, this may be said to have been the
only bodily exercise he took; as he was now sliding into that
habit which afterwards became inveterate. It is not believed
that he seriously undervalued the importance of this means
of health in others, but it is certain that in the last thirty
years of his life, he used as little bodily motion as any man
of his times; confining himself not only to one apartment,
but to one chair. This was in striking contrast with the
customs of Dr. Miller; and there was an amicable but incessant controversy between them on this point, often waged
with as much ability as jocoseness. This proximity of the
Seminary, and Dr. Alexander's habit of never denying himself to visitors, contributed very much to that frequency of
interview with his pupils, which so many of them remember
with pleasure.  At all hours, and often in an unbroken
succession for hours, he would receive visitors, and listen to
them commonly with patience.  He was certainly to be
forgiven, if sometimes, in the presence of the more wearisome
ones, he took up his pen, or gazed abstractedly upon that




382               ROUTINE OF TASKS.
distant horizon marked by blue hills, which he loved to contemplate from his eastern window. Besides the perpetua.
work of preparation, in which he was now employed literally
every day, his regular public services may be stated as follows. He had one lecture, daily, which, with the accompanying examination of his classes, occupied at least an hour.
On Tuesday evening, he attended an exercise of speaking,
at which every student, at stated periods, pronounced a discourse of his own composition, on some religious subject. To
this was added, during some years, the delivery of complete
sermons, by the senior students. All these were subject to
the professors' criticism, and in these exercises the labour
was shared by Dr. Miller. On Friday evening, there was a
debate, on some point in theology or allied subjects, in a
theological society, comprising almost the whole Seminary.
The utmost freedom was allowed, and the debate was concluded by the summing-up of the professors, who were both
always present. As this was a period of very active con.
troversy in our Church, on those points of theology which
have since divided us, there was, as might have been expected, a peculiar animation in these discussions; and in our
opinion he never shone more, or more displayed his stores of
knowledge, his grasp of great subjects, or his acumen and
dialectical force, than in some of these disputations, when,
after being warmed by hearing the defence of specious error,
he closed with the establishment of sound doctrine. The
professors by turns attended evening prayers with the young
men; the morning service being conducted by the senior
students.  At these exercises, Dr. Alexander sometimes




THE CONFERENCE.                383
expounded a passage of Scripture, and sometimes made a
brief but pointed exhortation. He was accustomed also to
join his colleague in the meeting for prayer, known as the
Monthly Concert. One day in each month was left vacant,
for the class prayer-meetings of the young men, and for their
more solemn private devotions, to which many of them
added fasting; and it was common for the professors to meet
the whole body at a certain hour of the day. From this
time forward, even before the erection of a separate chapel,
there was a discourse to the students, on the morning of the
Lord's Day; it was delivered alternately by Dr. Alexander
and Dr. Miller.
But there was no exercise which more impressed its
character on the students of that day, than the Conference
of Sunday afternoon, which has been already mentioned.
This meeting it is believed owed its origin entirely to the
suggestion of Dr. Alexander, and was kept up as long as he
lived. Indeed, there were some peculiarities in the manner
of conducting it, which may be said to have grown out of
his remarkable aptitude for free colloquial descant on religious topics.  As the other exercises of the Seminary were
intended to give fitness for the external work, this was directed solely to the cultivation of the heart, and there are
not a few who bless God that they were ever brought under
its sacred influence. Nothing could be more simple than
the mode of managing this colloquy. After singing and
prayer, a subject in experimental or practical religion, which
had been named the week before, was discussed. The conversation was opened by one of the students, whose turn it




384                THE CONFERENCE.
was; any others were allowed to express their views, as they
were called on in order; until a sufficient time had been
spent. The professors then closed, with a familiar discourse,
of from twenty to thirty minutes. As we have intimated,
this was an occasion which more than any other Dr. Alexander used, for the outpouring of his profound personal experience of divine things. There was scarcely a topic in
regard to vital piety, which did not come into discussion
during the Seminary course. As he sat in his chair, he
would begin with a low voice and in the most ordinary tones
of conversation, evidently relying upon the feeling of the
moment, as raised by foregoing remark, for all his animation.
As he went on and drew more largely on his recollections
and his consciousness, he seldom failed to kindle, and sometimes at the conclusion left all present in a state of high
emotion. These remarkable effusions sometimes almost took
the form of soliloquy, as losing sight of all around him, he
uttered the serene or enraptured feelings of a soul in communion with God.  Singing and prayer closed the service,
which commonly occupied about an hour and half. It is
but just to add, that Dr. Miller also delighted in this meeting,
and contributed to it some of his most valuable thoughts.
His little discourses, here were always digested and methodical; enriched with many golden sayings from old writers,
and enlivened with anecdotes from his singularly copious
fund. And, as his colleague was often heard to say, Dr.
Miller evinced more and more spirituality of view and feeling, until the very last.
This Conference was so nearly connected with the reli



THE CONFERENCE.                385
gious development of Dr. Alexander, that we shall subjoin,
altogether from memory, a few of the subjects which used to
be treated from year to year. They were such as these:
The'Work of the Spirit on the Heart.-The Nature of true
Conviction. —True and false Sorrow for Sin.-Saving Faith.
-What are the Evidences of a Change of Heart?-Spiritual
Joy.-The Believer's'first love.'-Indwelling Sin.-Temptation. —The Mortification of Sin. —Symptoms and Cure of
Backsliding. -Apostasy.-Spiritual Pride.-The best Method of reading the Scriptures. —How to conduct private
Devotion.-Revivals of Religion.-The best Means for the
Conversion of Sinners.-Growth in Grace.-Spiritual-mindedness.-Dangers of a Seminary Life.-Religious Conversation.-Fasting.- Nature and Evidences of a Call to the
Ministry.-Christian Consolation.-Views proper for those
who are about to enter on the Work of the Ministry.Foreign Missions and the Missionary Spirit.-The Imitation
of Christ.-Religious Melancholy.-The Regulation of Appetite.-The Unpardonable Sin. —The Assurance of Hope.Preparation for Death.-Walking with God.-Divine Meditation.-Brotherly Love.-The Sanctification of the Sabbath.
-The Day of Judgment. —The everlasting Rest of the
Righteous. Of the opinions which were expressed on these
and similar points, some notion may be gained, from the
volume of Practical Sermons, and especially from the work
on Religious Experience.
During all this time he was preaching as much as many
pastors. Both to his own students and to those of the College, he was always welcome in the pulpit. For a time, he




386                WRITTEN SERMONS.
and I)r. Miller, assisted afterwards by Mr. now Dr. Hodge,
preached on Sunday evenings in the village church. We
have said before, that during his whole life as a pastor, Dr.
Alexander used the free method, and carried no manuscript
into the pulpit. After his arrival at Princeton, he began to
change his method in a certain degree, making more experiment of written composition, in sermons on important topics.
And what he wrote he also read; for he frequently declared
his inability to commit a discourse to memory.  We are
bound to say that so far as manner and impression are concerned, these efforts fell far below his ordinary discourses.
The matter was always equally valuable, and the train of
thought was often close and felicitous; but he was sometimes indescribably trammelled by his paper, and was not a
rhetorical reader; so that whole congregations used to
brighten up as with a ray of sudden sunshine, when towards
the close he would throw up his spectacles, cast about his
penetrating glances, and, as if indignant at his duresse, break
forth in the liberty of his natural eloquence.  No two
preachers were more unlike, than was he, in the two portions of one and the same discourse. For this reason, those
who never listened to him at home, or were acquainted only
with his discourses on great occasions, which were carefully
written and read, have but the faintest idea of what he was
as a preacher.  And the period of which we are writing
was that in which he condensed into his pulpit exercises the
greatest amount of theological instruction, with the still unwasted vivacity of his earlier years. In two classes of sermons he especially excelled; first, in those which clearly and




TIMES OF DEBATE.               387
connectedly set forth the different parts of doctrine, in the
way of definition and proof, so as to bring them within the
scope of the humblest minds; and secondly, those in which
he gave the history of a religious experience, in its origin,
progress and consummation, with minute dissection, graphic
detail, and moving appeal to the heart. In the latter of
these, there were many who considered him unsurpassed.
There has seldom been a time since the opening of
the Seminary, when it did not contain some students of the
Baptist persuasion, as many as five such having been there
at once. It is to the honour of both parties, that, as Dr.
Alexander loved to declare, no one of these young brethren
ever gave occasion to censure for indecorous propagandism, or
ever took offence at the frank expositions of doctrine which
were made. There was, about this time, an increasing anxiety in the Presbyterian Church, upon a number of questions, both doctrinal and practical. These unquiet feelings
were naturally reflected in the students of the Seminary, who
at that period came from almost every State of the Union,
not excepting New England, which was indeed largely represented. It began to be seriously questioned by many,
whether the diversity of theological opinion existing among
our ministers were not too great to be comprehended within
common symbols. The German philosophy was as yet unknown, and even the works of Coleridge, which afterwards
opened the door for it, had not been read, if we except his
Biographia Literaria. The later forms of new divinity, commonly attributed to certain New England theologians, were
only beginning to assume a regular shape. The conflict was




388         NEW DIVINITY-NEW MEASURES.
therefore still very much upon the old fields of the preceding
century, and disputation ran high upon the points mooted by
Hopkins and Emmons.  It was warmly questioned, whether
the mind is a series of exercises; whether God is the efficient
cause of sinful acts; and whether the unconditional submission of the new creature involves a willingness to be damned
for the glory of God. Still more earnest was the debate
concerning the effects of the fall; the imputation of
Adam's sin to his posterity; the imputation of Christ's
active righteousness to believers; the nature of moral and
natural inability; and the extent of the atonement. These
questions lie so near the foundations of religion, that they
were brought into view, whenever instruction and advice
were to be given to new converts. They were therefore much
agitated in the great revivals which at this time were spreading through the land. By many, the supposed improvements
on some of these heads of theology were held forth as necessary to the work of general conviction and renewal; they
were warmly published amidst the enthusiasms of great
awakenings; and it was not uncommon to stigmatize those
who adhered to old theology, as behind the age, if not as the
enemies of revivals.  Out of the same extensive excitement
of religious feeling, arose new questions as to the mode of
producing and managing revivals; and hence the controversy,
long since dead, concerning New Measures. There are few
of our older readers who need to be reminded of the alarm
Paused by thoe methods of Mr. Finney; the'anxious-seat;'
mnd the Lebanon Conference, These once momentous topics
belong to our narrative only so far as they had a bearing on




CONTROVERSIES.                389
the mind and labours of its principal subject. As a theological professor he was awake to the important bearing of all
these innovations. The questions of doctrine were continually
coming up in church-courts, upon the examination of candidates, which sometimes afforded opportunity for angry and
indecorous wrangling between ministers, over the heads, perhaps, of students from Princeton. The young men of the
Seminary came in great numbers from the very midst of
revival scenes, where these matters of controversy had been
agitated, in connection with their most sacred exercises.
There often appeared within the walls of the institution, hot
and valorous youth, who were wiser than their teachers, and
eager to beard a professor, and make converts among their
fellows. The whole of this period, therefore, was one of
agitation and consequent solicitude; the rather as the number of students was so great.
These were circumstances which demanded firmness and
discretion; and probably there are few who on looking back
will not acknowledge that Dr. Alexander displayed both.
As was before said, his theological opinions were settled, and
were becoming well known; he was universally ranked
among the leaders of the old, or as many deemed it, the
obsolete Calvinism of the seventeenth century. It was always his lot to suffer most in reputation from those who
would have had him quicken his pace, so as to keep abreast of
the moving column. At no time was he so much aspersed as at
this; and not a few represented him as opposed to the glo.
rious work of grace which was in progress. It was even said
that he was utterly unacquainted with the phenomena of




390             MODE OF REFUTATION.
religious revival; but this was of course the language of
such as had no knowledge of that early history with which
the readers of this volume have been made acquainted. It
may be safely asserted that there was no man in the Church
who had studied more closely this whole subject; and it
may now be added, that the sober opinions which he calmly
maintained, in the midst of great opposition, are those which
have since become the settled judgment of our Church. Under such a pressure he was led to examine more deeply the
foundations of his system, and to push his inquiries into the
recesses of theology, as concerned in the prevailing controversy. It became also his sacred duty, to inculcate what he held
to be truth, with augmented diligence, and by every means to
guard his pupils against the errors of the age. This he nevei
attempted in the way of direct debate, or violent assault,
but rather by the safe establishment of such principles in the
earlier parts of the course, as from a logical necessity should
lead to the reception of orthodox opinion. In this endeavour
we believe the charge against him never was, either that he
did not understand the points at issue, or that he failed of
success in implanting his own doctrines in the youthful
mind, but rather that he proceeded by the way of circumvallation and gradual approaches, so that the conviction was
carried before they were aware. Thus, likewise, in regard
to revival measures, he freely expressed the results of his
long observation, when opportunity was given, in public or
private; but in suceh a way as to show how tenderly he dis.
tinguished between the genuine work of Divine grace, and
the excesses of rash and fanatical instruments  He seized




AUTHORSHIP.                   391
every fair occasion to preach the Word, in seasons of awakening, and with a fervour and success that often disarmed
the prejudice which was ready to arise from mistaken views
of his position. The juncture was nevertheless one which
called for circumspect walking, and no doubt led him to
anxious study and many prayers.
In this connection it becomes necessary to notice the
commencement of his authorship. Few men whose works
fill many volumes ever began to publish so late in life; for
his first book was issued when he was about fifty-two years
of age. The method of preparing for the pulpit by laborious
but unwritten meditation, was certainly unfavourable to
facility in composition.  He had given a few occasional discourses to the press, had contributed some articles to the
Virginia Religious Magazine, of which we can discover no
copy, to the Assembly's Magazine and other periodical works,
and had amassed piles of manuscript upon theological subjects; but he was yet to embark upon the sea of publication.
In regard to style he was a rigorous critic, and was always
dissatisfied with himself. He never manifested the slightest
complacency in any thing which he composed. He would
read his manuscript aloud, amend, erase, transpose, and
frequently cancel.  Never feeling perfect freedom  in the
flow of composition, he did not venture upon those imaginative flights, nor break into that opulence of expression,
which were common in his oral discourses.  Hence he satisfied himself with simplicity and clearness; qualities which
his written works possess in the highest degree.  In regard
to his style, it may be observed that he went always for the




392            WORK ON THE EVIDENCES.
thought rather than the words, and was never led along by
the bait of fine language or the development of a figure. The
election between these two kinds of writing, must, we suppose,
be made early in life. The occasion of his first published volume is worthy of mention. It was about the year 1823,
that a little knot of young skeptics began to make themselves busy in the College of New Jersey, and it was feared
that the evil would become. diffusive. At the request of one
of the tutors, Dr. Alexander prepared a sermon, much longer
than his wont, and delivered it in the College Chapel.  The
text was Luke xii. 57, " Yea, and why even of yourselves
judge ye not what is right? " The subject was the Evidences
of Christianity. The discourse had a happy effect, and awakened so much attention that it was requested for the press.
On preparing it for this purpose, he saw room for much addition, and at length brought it out as a small volume in
eighteens, from the Princeton press, under the title, " Outlines of the Evidences of Christianity." A second enlarged
impression was soon called for. It has since passed through
numerous editions in England and America, has been translated into several languages, is used as a text book in many
colleges and schools, and continues to find sale without any
diminution from year to year.  Of this little manual, President Talimage observes, " I consider it one of the most perfect models of classic English which is extant; a book to be
closely studied by the scholar not only for its masterly moraJ
demonstrations, but for its lucidness and purity of language.'
Yet we remember that the author sent it abroad, with little
short of trembling. HIis analogous treatise on the Canon of




REVIEW OF MURDOCR.                393
the Ol(l and New Testament appeared in the year 1826. At
that tile, there was no accessible treatise on this important
subject. It contains more erudition than any of his productions, and was immediately taken up by the British
press. Although the substance of this work was incorporated with the last improved edition of the Evidences, he
prepared it afresh for the press in the later years of his life.
On the whole, it is one of the best specimens of his learned
and eminently cautious mode of investigation. The publication, in 1823, of Professor Murdock's Discourse on the
Nature of the Atonement, was a critical event in the theological history of the times. In opposition to the views there
avowed, Dr. Alexander contributed a series of articles, occupying about twenty-five pages in Dr. Green's Christian Advocate.:
In the year 1825, a quarterly publication was issued at
Princeton, under the title of the BIBLICAL REPERTORY. It
was projected and undertaken by Professor Hodge, under
whose auspices it has continued to flourish till this day,
having now completed its twenty-ninth annual volume. As
it is the oldest of existing American theological reviews, so
we believe it to have as wide a circulation as any. Its character is too widely known to require our commendation. At
its inception, the plan did not look much beyond the reprint
of rare and useful treatises on Criticism and Hermeneutics,
but it soon became the channel for original articles on theological subjects. Through good and evil report it has pursued its way, and has contributed more than any other
agency, to make known those opinions which belong to what
* Christian Advocate, 1824, pp. 76, 119, 168.




394              BIBLICAL REPERTORY.
some have chosen to call the Princeton School.  In times
of controversy it has not refrained from a free expression of
judgment on great questions; and its pages contain ample
discussion of all matters relating to the defence of Calvinism and Presbytery, the policy of the Church, the charities
of the age, new divinity, new philosophy, and new measures,
and especially the difficulties which preceded, accompanied
and followed the division of our ecclesiastical body. Some
of the ablest writers in our communion have chosen it as the
vehicle of their best thoughts; among these, to say nothing
of those who survive, we may mention Dr. Miller, Dr. Green,
Dr. Rice, Dr. Fisk, Dr. Breckinridge, Dr. Winchester, and
Dr. Dod. From the beginning, Dr. Alexander was active as
a counsellor, and from the year 1829 he was a constant and
often a large contributor. Its volumes contain some of his
most elaborate and memorable treatises on theology, besides
many essays and reviews of a minor sort.
So far as can be discovered, his first contribution to the
Review was an Essay on the Bible as furnishing a key to the
phenomena of the natural world; appearing in two numbers of 1829.  But this was followed by one of his most able
and striking productions, namely, his review of Dr. Thomas
Brown's celebrated work on Cause and Effect.  As a teacher
of mental philosophy, and one well versed in all the varieties
of Scottish opinion, he looked with lively interest upon the
speculations of this fascinating writer; and believing them to
be fraught with danger to the cause of truth, he attempted
a refutation, which has been judged fair and successful.  So
far as we have learnt, this was the earliest extended reply to




REFUTATION OF BROWN.               3UD
Brown; for Sir W'illiam  Hamilton's noted reviewv in the
Edinburgh did not make its appearance until the following
year. To this dissertation we would confidently refer those
who would judge of his qualifications for metaphysical inquiry, or would learn the methods of subtile and patient
analysis, for which his lectures were remarkable. In this
answer, he shows that on Brown's hypothesis all reasoning
from the nature of an effect to the nature of its cause, or
the reverse, must be futile; that this defeats the teleiological
argument for the being of God; that it destroys human
accountability; and hence that it is untenable and dangeious. The closing sentence is characteristic: " That his
theories have in some instances operated unfavourably on
young men of ardent minds, we know to be a fact; but, in
our opinion, the right way to prevent the bad consequences
of such books, is not to prohibit, but to answer them, and to
lead young men to peruse them with caution, and at the
right time."
The name of Dr. Alexander has been long associated with
the American Colonization Society. Indeed, if those who
were of the councils which projected it, and early committed
themselves in its favour, are to be ranked as its founders,
he assuredly deserves a name among them. The Rev. Dr.
Robert Finley, the real father of the enterprise in its modern form, was a native of Princeton, and art alumnus of the
College.  He was an intimate friend of Dr. Alexander, and
we remember the long and anxious interviews which they
held upon this subject. Dr. Finley once said to his friend,
"'When I consider what many others have effected for the




396                   DR. FINLEY.
oenefit of their suffering fellow-creatures at an earlier ago
than mine, I am humbled and mortified to think how little
I have done."  This he uttered with ardent emotion, adding
his determination to engage in some enterprise for the good
of mankind.  Not many months afterwards he disclosed to
the same friend his plan of a colony of free blacks on the
western coast of Africa. The scheme struck most as chimerical; but Finley was immovable, and from the very
outset Dr. Alexander was as sanguine as he. The first
public meeting which ever took place in the country to consider this matter was held in the borough of Princeton;
where Dr. Finley gave an exposition of his plan. The meeting was small, but among those present were the professors
and most of the students of the Theological Seminary.-  It
certainly added to the interest which he felt in this undertaking, that it was his young townsman, Captain Robert F.
Stockton, of-the United States Navy, who, in 1822, accompanied by Dr. Ayres, effected the purchase of 5Mesurado
from the natives, by a series of prudent and heroic acts,
which almost savour of romance. He never faltered in his
zeal for colonization. When others fell back, he was always
hopeful, and his testimony was often repeated, "I am as
fully persuaded that the plan of colonizing the free people
of colour in Africa is wise and benevolent, as I ever was of
the wisdom and benevolence of any human enterprise." " It
behooves those," said he, "who industriously sow prejudices
against ColonizationD in the minds of the free people of
* History of Colonization on the Western Coast of Afiiea; p. 80o




COLONIZATION.                 397
colour, to consider what injury they may be inflicting on
thenl and their posterity. Let them either propose some
method by which these degraded and down-trodden people
may be rendered more comfortable and respectable here, or
let them cease to throw obstacles in the way of their emigration to a country where they may have the opportunity
of enjoying the real blessings of freedom. It is in vain to
declaim about the prejudice of colour; however unreasonaable, it will long continue to exist, and will prove an effectual bar to the possession and enjoyment of the same privileges and advantages which the white population enjoy. If
I were a coloured man, I would not hesitate a moment to
relinquish a country where a black skin and the lowest
degree of degradation are so identified, that scarcely any
manifestation of talent, scarcely any course of good conduct,
can entirely overcome the contempt which exists, and which
is perhaps stronger in the free than in the slaveholding
States; and I would use every exertion to reach a land
where it is no crime and no dishonour to appear in a coloured
skin, a country where no white superiors look down upon
the black race, but where they are lords of the soil and
rulers of the nation. I admire the honest ambition and
noble daring of the first emigrants. Then no Liberia existed. The Society owned not one foot of ground on that
continent, and it was extremely doubtful whether they would
be able to obtain any territory for a colony. Yet these lionhearted men, resolved to run every risk, took their lives in
their hands.  Like Abram, they went out, not knowing
whither they went; and the event has proved that they




398                   VIRGINIA.
were called by the providence of God, to engage in this
hazardous enterprise. And I cannot but feel pity for the
grovelling views of many coloured men, now residing in a
state of degradation in this country, who in Liberia might
rise to wealth and independence, and perhaps to high and
honourable office."
The visit which he made to Virginia in 1825, gave great
pleasure to his friends, and to none more than to Dr. John
H. Rice, who wrote often concerning it. "If," says he,
" you could but have witnessed the universal burst of joy
when it was understood that you were coming, and the deep
disappointment expressed by every one, on hearing that
probably you would not come, you would know what influence under the divine blessing you could exert here." " It
is not possible to hire a carriage for you, in this neighbourhood. Nobody will hear of that. I do trust that we shall
have the pleasure of seeing you and hearing you talk once
more. Your head quarters must be with us; in the old
hoase occupied by you so many years. This is the central
point, to which people are most in the habit of coming; and
near which people who come from Cumberland and Charlotte
will find it easiest to get accommodations."  Thus wrote
this warm friend while the journey was in prospect; he afterwards says: "I do believe that it would prolong your life
and extend your usefulness, if you could make such a visit
every year. It might be the means of bringing your children
acquainted with the children of those, who will never cease
to love you with a fervour and perpetuity of affection, which
is rarely to be found except among old Virginia Presbyteri



CORRESrONDENCE.                 399
ans.  Come then often among us, and let us enjoy the
pleasure of showing, or rather trying to show how much we
love you." And again: " Your visit last summer constitutes
an epoch in' the annals of our Parish.' Things are commonly spoken of, as happening just before, or just after, or while
Dr. Alexander was here. And if I could have my wish,
you would render your last services to the Church here, and
lay your bones to rest in the land of your nativity."'
Amidst public duties, Dr. Alexander found time to indulge
the sympathies of Christian friendship. If the correspondence of that day could be recovered, especially with Dr.
Rice and Dr. Speece, it would probably give a picture of
his inward life which no later pen can supply. A few letters
have been preserved, written to his eldest sister, the wife of
Professor Graham of Washington College; with this excellent woman he maintained a correspondence for about sixty
years. She departed this life in 1853, while this memoir
was in preparation. In the year 1822 he wrote thus to her:
" I am afraid from what I have heard and from  the strain
of your letter, that your grief on account of the death of
your beloved daughter has been excessive; that you have
yielded more than was good to despondency; and that you
are in danger of sinking into a settled dejection.  I know
that your natural disposition exposes you to an extreme on
this side, and that unless you vigorously and resolutely
oppose it, you will be likely to do yourself a serious and perhaps a lasting injury.  Grief, like all other natural passions,
* Letters of I)r. RIice, AMarLh 18, May 2, August 6 and October 16, 1825.




400             LETTER OF CONSOLATION.
becomes sinful when indulged too far.  It then involves
always some want of confidence in God, some improper feeling in regard to his government and will. It partakes of
the nature of that sorrow which worketh death. It wastes
the spirits, debilitates the body, predisposes to various diseases, unfits for the discharge of common duties, destroys
one's own peace, and adds to the unhappiness of friends.
Somehow or other, we are not so much afraid of sin, when it
approaches us through this channel. If we grow light and
indulge a love of pleasure, conscience is soon wounded; but
we are ready to justify our sorrow, and refuse to make the
effort which is necessary to check it. There is often a strong
perverseness in the human mind in hugging its sorrows, as
if they were valuable or sacred. But while the religion of
Christ permits us to indulge our natural feelings, it strictly
requires temperance here, as well as in other indulgences.
It requires us to rejoice, to rejoice always, and to rejoice even
in tribulation." And more particularly in the same strain,
at another time: " I feel for you under the sore bereavement
which you have suffered; but the stroke, though severe,
comes from the hand of a Father, who afflicts not willingly.
Our children are more the property of God than of ourselves.
He gave and he taketh away, and it is our duty to submit
to his will in all things; for whatever he does is right, and
best for his own children. Hereafter they shall see that
there was a propriety in all his dealings. To give up a child
or other dear relative whom we believe to be prepared, is
comparatively easy; but to part with one concerning whom
we have no sure ground of confidence-this indeed is hard I




DEATH OF CHILDREN.               401
But we are poor judges of what preparation is. We know
not what God may work in behalf of our children in their
last moments. We know not but that the principle of grace
may be implanted in such as are piously educated, earlier
than we are aware. In some cases, what is called conversion
may be no more than the development of a principle im —
planted before. We know not how far the promise of God
to believing parents, in behalf of their offspring, extends,
when they are taken away in tender youth. If we believe
that all the dying infants of such are undoubtedly saved,
why may we not hope that those who have advanced a little
bGyond infancy may be comprehended in God's gracious
covenant? Many who never profess religion exhibit more of
the Christian temper than some who are professors. They
are diffident of themselves, and do not make known all that
they have experienced.  I cannot but entertain pleasing
hopes of the salvation of such amiable young persons as have
been devoted to God, and early imbued with Christian instruction, when they are cut off by premature death. It can
do no harm to hope as much as we can respecting the dead.
Let us be as rigid as we please in regard to the living; but
it is no dishonour to God, nor disparagement of his truth,
to entertain enlarged views of his mercy. After all, humble
-submission to the will of God, from a trust in his wisdom,
faithfulness and mercy, is the best refuge. When Eli heard
the message of God respecting his sons, his language was,'It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good!''Be
still, and know that I am God.' These sore visitations are
intended to answer wise and gracious purposes. Let us en



402            LETTER TO HIS MOTHER.
deavour to profit by seasons of adversity. For most, it is
good to be afflicted. Beware of a gloomy, disconsolate mind.
Let not grief prey upon your spirits, and unfit you for the
duties of a Christian. We must all very soon die, and it is
much better that our children should go early, than live to
be old in sin, and then die without an interest in Christ.
Cast all your care upon the Lord. Commit all into his hands.
Blessed are they that trust in him!"
A place is due also, to the only letter to his aged and
declining mother, which is known to be in existence.
DR. ALEXANDER TO HIS MOTHER.
"PRINCETON, May 25, 1823.
" 1IY DEAR MOTHER:
"When I last saw you, it was very doubtful whether
you would ever rise again from the bed to which you were
confined. Indeed, considering your great age, it was not to
be expected that you should entirely recover your usual
health. I was much gratified to find that in the near prospect of eternity, your faith did not fail, but that you could
look death in the face without dismay, and felt willing, if it
were the will of God, to depart from this world of sorrow
and disappointment.  But it has pleased your Heavenly
Father to continue you a little longer in the world. I regret
to learn that you have endured much pain from a disease of
your eyes, and that you have been less comfortable than
formerly. Bodily affliction you must expect to endure as
long as you continue in the world.'The days of our years




LETTER TO HIS MOTHER.              403
are three-score years and ten, and if by reason of strength
they be four-score years, yet is their strength labour and
sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.' But while
your Heavenly Father continues you in this troublesome
world, he will, I trust, enable you to be resigned and contented and patient under the manifold afflictions which are
incident to old age.
"The great secret of true comfort lies in a single word,
TRUST. Cast your burdens on the Lord, and he will sustain
them. If your evidences of being in the favour of God are
obscured, if you are doubtful of your acceptance with him,
still go directly to him by faith; that is, trust in his mercy
and in Christ's merits. Rely simply on his word of promise.
Be not afraid to exercise confidence. There can be no deception in depending entirely on the Word of God. It is
not presumption to trust in him when he has commanded us
to do so. We dishonour him by our fearfulness and want of
confidence. We thus call in question his faithfulness and
his goodness. Whether your mind is comfortable or distressed, flee for refuge to the outstretched wings of his protection and mercy. There is all fulness in him; there is all
willingness to bestow what we need. He says,'My grace is
sufficient for thee. My strength is made perfect in weakness.
As thy day is so shall thy strength be. I will never leave
thee nor forsake thee. Though I walk through the valley of
the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with
me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.' Be not afraid
of the pangs of death. Be not afraid that your Redeemer
will then be afar off. Grace to die comfortably is not com



404            LETTER TO HIS MOTHER.
monly given until the trial comes.  Listen not to the
tempter, when he endeavours to shake your faith, and destroy
your comfort. Resist him, and he will flee from you. If
you feel that you can trust your soul willingly and wholly to
the hands of Christ, relying entirely on his merits; if you
feel that you hate sin, and earnestly long to be delivered
from its defilement; if you are willing to submit to the will
of God, however much he may afflict you; then be not discouraged. These are not the marks of an enemy, but of a
friend. My sincere prayer is, that your sun may set in serenity; that your latter end may be like that of the righteous; and that your remaining days, by the blessing of
God's providence and grace, may be rendered tolerable and
even comfortable.
" It is not probable that we shall ever meet again in this
world; and yet, as you have already seen one of your
children go before you, you may possibly live to witness the
departure of more of us. I feel that old age is creeping
upon me. Whoever goes first, the rest must soon follow.'May we all be ready! And may we all meet around the
throne of God, where there is no separation for ever and
ever  Amen!
"I remain, your affectionate son,
" A, A."




CHAPTER SIXTEENTH.
1830-1839.
DIVISION OF THE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCHOII —PROSPERITY OF SEMINARY —INVITATION TO VIRGINIA-LITERARY TOILS-WRITINGS OF THIS PERIOD —
DOMESTICO LIFE-CORRESPONDENCE-REVIVALS-SLAVES AND SLAVERY —
PROSPECT OF DEATH.
FROM  the year 1830, there was a period which was as
anxious as any equal portion of time, to the Church and
the Seminary. We are not called upon to recite those painful controversies, which in 1838 resulted in the secession of
a large body of ministers and Presbyteries from the Presbyterian Church. That history has been amply recorded, by
persons friendly to both sides of the great question. But it
would be impossible to write the life of Dr. Alexander with
truth and candour, without representing his views, and stating his position, in regard to matters which connected themselves with all that he held most dear. As has been already
suggested, the agitations of the Church communicated their
impulses to the Seminary, and during the years of which we
are writing, naturally occupied to a great extent the minds
of both professors and students.  But one reason which con



406              CHURCH DIFFICULTIES.
clusively precludes the subject from these pages, as to any
discussion of its merits, is that Dr. Alexander never chose
to make himself prominent, even as a champion for the opinions which he firmly maintained. To this course he was led,
partly by a temper eminently moderate and pacific, which
some denominated timidity; partly by views which he entertained concerning the functions of a theological professor,
as to a certain degree withholding him from the field of
strife; but more than all, by his inability to coincide with
many respected brethren, as to the particular means by
which acknowledged evils were to be remedied. His position
in regard to these controversies may be thus simply stated.
In doctrine he was a Calvinist of the Westminster type,
and was recognised as such, by friends and opponents. No
single man can be found, even during this period of excitement, who employed his pen more laboriously or frequently,
in defence of the doctrines which distinguish what had begun
to be called Old School Theology. This is slufficiently evinced
by his articles on Original Sin, on Natural and Moral Ability,
on the Atonement, and on Imputation. And the doctrines
which he believed, he also diligently, fully, and successfully
inculcated upon his students, who were already becoming
numerous in the ministry. In regard therefore to theological
tenets, and his view of their importance, he did not yield to
the most impetuous of his brethren.
A second remark is equally just; he believed that a considerable number of ministers in our Church had departed
from these doctrines, and in so doing had deviated from the
standards of the church.  Here arose a question, as to the




SOURCES OF STRIFE.               407
more or less of this deviation; how great it must be, to
render one unfit for the ministry; and how much must be
teft to the individual conscience of him who subscribed articles of faith. On this point, as we shall presently show, his
comprehension of slight differences was wider than that of
some. It must be added, that he lamented the disunion,
embarrassment, and annual contentions, which were making
our Church a proverb. He saw clearly that elements thus
irreconcilable, ought to be apart, and expected that division
must some day ensue; while, as his published opinions irdicate, he was unwilling that orthodox men should take tho
initiative in such division. Of the complicated acts and
measures, by which the friends of truth sought to rid themselves of the evils, there were some. which he could not approve; and hence he lost the favour of many from whom he
was little inclined to be separated. When at length, the
division was effected, not by process for error in doctrine, but
by the spontaneous secession of large numbers, including all
the adherents of new doctrine, he cordially and determinately
stood by the constitutional body, and never ceased to rejoice
in the quiet and purity of the Church which was the result.
The turbulent spirits of the time were causing dissension
in respect not only to theological opinion, but the means of
promoting the conviction and conversion of sinners; hence
as much was said of New Measures, as of New Divinity. To
justify what has just been summarily stated as to Dr. Alexander's position, we shall make a few citations from what is
extant in his own words. In the year 1832, he contributed
to the Biblical Repertory an article on "The present con



408              OLD AND NEW SCHOOL.
dition and prospects of the Presbyterian Church." It was
the first essay in that work which explicitly recognised the
party-troubles in our communion. It sustains what we have
affirmed respecting his estimate of the theological errors then
rife. " That there exists a difference of opinion in the
Church," says he, " in reference to certain doctrinal points,
and as to the precise import of the act of adopting the Confession of Faith, by candidates at their licensure and ordi-.
nation, cann6t be denied or concealed. It is also apparent,
that the numbers who choose to range themselves under one
or the other of these parties, are pretty nearly balanced.
Hitherto, in all questions which put the strength of the
Old and New Schools, as they have been called, to the test,
the majority has been found on the side of the former, until
the meeting of the last General Assembly, when a decided
majority appeared on the other side. It is true, indeed, that
the points on which a division took place between them, on
that occasion, were not doctrinal points, but certain ecclesiastical transactions, relative to missionary operations and the
training of candidates for the ministry; yet it is understood
that generally the respective parties were agreed in their
views of theology.  This difference may be considered therefore, as having its foundation in a diversity of theological
opinion." How grave this diversity was, may be gathered
from another article, of which indeed he was not the author,
but to which he is known to have given his assent.  " We
wished it to be understood, that we were the determined
opponents of all those in our communion who manifested a
leaning towards Arminian or Pelagian opinions in theology,




VIEW  OF THE DIFFERENCES.             409
or who discovered a disposition to invade the principles of
Presbyterian church government, or to exchange them for
those of the Congregational system. Against these, and
against all who manifested a desire to favour them, we have
lifted our voice from time to time-feebly, we acknowledge,
but, according to our ideas of propriety, as distinctly and
decisively as we were able."  He believed that there were
such errors maintained by ministers and authors as should
disqualify them for exercising office in our church; but he
also believed that there were some differences which did not
amount to heresy, and which ought not to be made matter
of discipline. And while he always defended the strict interpretation of subscription to articles, he was certainly more
lenient in his judgments than some who acted with him. On
this point, his views are best expressed by what he uttered
in a conference of clergymen, in 1835.  " Dr. Alexander expressed his belief that our church could not long be governed
by a General Assembly, as constituted at present; but that
the evil ought not to be precipitated. He declared his belief
that the most important difference between the friends of
the truth was as to the degree of theological difference which
might be tolerated.":" In the same spirit he wrote to Dr.
Weed; "We go on here upon our old moderate plan, teaching the okl doctrines of Calvinism, but not disposed to consider every man a heretic who differs in some few points
from us."t
For a long time he had augured evil from the diffusion
* MS. Notes of a Conference, held April 15, 1835.
L etter to the Rev henriy I. Weed, March 8, 1834.




410                  FOREBODINGS.
of new opinions. As early as 1831, he writes to a friend
"My mind is full of gloomy apprehensions respecting the
affairs of our church, since the meeting of the last General
Assembly. I cannot foresee whither we shall be driven. I
had never suspected that the new men and new measures
would so soon prevail in the supreme judicatory of our
church. But I need not dwell on this subject, as I have
nothing remedial to communicate. If the Lord intends good
for the church, our exertions will prosper. But if we are to
be handed over to the men of the new religion, bound hand
and foot, then we must yield, and mourn in secret places
over the departed glory. We old men shall soon leave the
stage. The burden and heat of the day will soon come upon
you young men, who will have great need to be strong, to
preserve the ark of the Lord from falling into the hands of
the Philistines. Quit yourselves like men. Stand up bravely
for the religion of your fathers, which is also ours, by deliberate choice, as well as inheritance."0:Deeply as he felt the evil of increasing error, he had
from the beginning a dread of originating any measure of
division. That this was his sentiment, at least in 1834, is
manifest from his language in an article to which reference
has already been made.  "If it is now found," says he,
"that our differences are so wide, that we cannot live in
peace, let us peaceably agree to separate into two distinct
denominations.  This should, however, be the last resort.
The Church of Christ is ONE, and all who agree in essential
matters should hold communion together, notwithstanding
* Letter to the Rev. W. S. Plurier, July 6, 1831.




EVILS OF DIVISION.              411
minor differences.  And if division on account of some
diversity in sentiment commences, there is no telling where
it will end; for we presume there are no two men who in
all their opinions on every subject entirely agree. And as
not only our presbyteries, but our congregations are in a
multitude of cases composed of persons who agree partly
with one and partly with the other side, a division of the
Church by a line of difference on theological points, would
split many churches into two parts, neither of which would
be able, without the other, to support the Gospel among
them. Endless controversies also respecting the church property would necessarily arise, and society would be agitated
and convulsed to its very foundations. And' as brethren,
differing as we now do, have hitherto continued to live in
peace, and in most places in great harmony, have loved each
other as brethren, and have cordially co-operated in promoting the Redeemer's kingdom, why may not this still be the
case, after the present exacerbation of feeling has subsided?
Upon mature deliberation, therefore, we declare our sentiments to be opposed to all schemes which tend to the division of the Presbyterian Church.  We do not know, indeed,
that there are any persons who seriously wish or meditate
any such thing; but sometimes hints and rumours come to
our ears, which seem to have this bearing.""  Such were
his avowed opinions at this time; but these were during the
first acts of the drama. He very soon came to perceive the
causes of separation were almost unavoidable. Thus he writes
to a fobrmer pupil, in 1837: " I tremble for the ark. I see
* Bibl. Repertory, 1834, p. 39




412              PROSPECT OF DIVISION.
dark lowering clouds collecting.  The new Revival Mea,ures, connected with the New Theology, are gaining strength
and popularity every day.  The stream is deepening and
widening, and will shortly pour forth such a torrent as will
reach over the whole surface of this land. Our Church
cannot proceed much further under her present organization.
The General Assembly ought not to be long continued in
its present form. But what can be done? Divide? How?
If shades of opinion must mark out our parties, we may
have a dozen as well as two. I say, No division. Let us
hold together as long as the foundation can be felt under
our feet. When that sinks, then'what shall the righteous
do?'"  He'then proceeds to indicate a new organization of
the body, retaining the General Assembly as a bond of
union and council of brethren.:` Again, about the same time,
to a valued pupil of his earliest class: "I hope that your
Presbytery has honoured you with a seat in the next General
Assembly. Men of nerve should have hold of the vessel in
the time of a tempest, for doubtless the New School brethren
will rage and clamour loudly. But we mean them no'in
jury. It is necessary for our very existence, that we should
be separate."t  As early as 1833, he had expressed similar
fears to the same friend: "Pittsburg Synod," so he writes,
"is the purest and soundest limb of the Presbyterian body.
When we fall to pieces in this quarter, and in the far West,
that synod will be like a marble column which remains undisturbed in the ruins of a mighty temple. I do not know
* Letter to the Rev. W. S. Plumer, Sept. 13, 1837.
i Letter to the Rev. Henry It. Weed, April 14, 1833.




THE DIVISION.                413
but that more of us will be obliged to seek an ultimate
refuge in that region from the overflowing of new divinity
and new measures. As you suggest, through the ultraism
of the Old and the New School, the sound and moderate part
of the Church is placed in jeopardy."From these scattered expressions of opinion, it is sufficiently manifest, that with all his desire for peace, he had
slowly and reluctantly arrived at the conclusion, that the
two parties could not much longer remain in union. Yet
he took no leading part in the immediate causes of the
division, which eventually took place in 1838. It is well
known that he never gave his assent to the Act and Testimony. As a member of the Assembly of 1837, he advocated the abrogation of the Plan of Union; he voted for the
act disowning the Western Reserve Synod; but did not
vote for the act dissolving the connection of the Synods of
Utica, Geneva and Genesee. HIe was, moreover, with Doctors Baxter and Leland, in preparing the pastoral letter
addressed to the churches by the General Assembly. There
can be no doubt that all his sympathies were with the majority; that he approved of the end which they had in view;
and that he was prepared to sanction and defend to a certain
extent the means which they adopted to accomplish that
end. After the separating acts were passed, and when the
churches, presbyteries and synods which they affected, refused
to submit to them, or even to regard the abrogation of the
Plan of Union as a valid act; but on the contrary resolved
to proceed as if the said plan was still in force, and to claim
* To the same, Feb. 21, 1838.




414            STATE OF THE SEMINARY.
for all judicatories formed under it a right to sit in the
General Assembly; he certainly never manifested the
slightest hesitation as to which party was right. After the
accomplishment of the division, and especially after the
ground assumed by the minority in the Assembly of 1838,
when they withdrew and claimed to constitute the Presbyterian Church, there was no man who entertained more
strongly than he disapprobation of the whole course pursued
by that minority, or who took a livelier interest in the success
of the Old School Assembly in all its conflicts. It is believed
that the articles on the division of the Church which appeared
during this period, though not from his pen, may be taken as
expressing his views on the general subject.
There is no friendly and competent reader of this memoir, who will not admit that the writer has had a difficult
and delicate task, in making the brief record above given.
He durst not suppress it, from any fear or favour; and he
has in no case consciously coloured it with any opinions of
his own, but has simply endeavoured to record in truth the
judgments of an honoured parent.
To not a few it was matter of surprise that the dissensions in the Church produced so little injury to the Theological Seminary. The truth is, it never was in a more healthful
condition. Immediately after the disruption of the body, it
is true, there was a sudden falling off in numbers, so that in
1839 the whole amount was only ninety-eight. But this loss
was almost immediately repaired, and the average of matriculations for the decennium, 1830-1839, was fifty-three annually; rising in 1831 to seventy-eight.  The whole number




INVITATION TO VIRGINIA.          415
of students was, in 1836, one hundred and thirty-bix; in
1837, one hundred and forty-two; and in 1838, one hundred and thirty-five. The disputes of the time gave renewed
animation to all concerned; and in particular the widely
extended interest in questions arising out of revivals, infused
a zeal into the young men, which sometimes demanded the
cautious hand of repression and guidance. The three instructors were perfectly united in their views concerning all
the points in controversy. It will probably be acknowledged
by all who were in the Seminary, during these years, that
the course of learning was pursued with uncommon ardour
and satisfaction.
We have already noticed the strong desires which had
been felt in regard to the return of Dr. Alexander to his
native State. These attempts were more earnestly renewed
in the year 1831. The nature of the proposal will best appear from an authentic representation of the proceedings of
the Synod of Virginia. This was unquestionably the most
serious inducement which was ever presented to draw him
away from Princeton. The invitation of the Synod was
reinforced by numerous private letters. In one of these, a
brother clergyman still living thus puts the case: " In reference to the great question submitted to your consideration,
I have thought much; and though I may not be able to
present the subject in one single point of light in which you
have not viewed it, yet the more I reflect on it, the more it
seems to me that you may possibly think it your duty to ac-:ept the invitation, which I know will be given with great




416                UNION SEMINARY.
unanimity and waim affection, if there be any hope of its
meeting a favourable reception.
"Two reasons influenced the members of the Synod, in
making the effort to ascertain beforehand what would probably be the result of the appointment, should it be made.
One was that they did not wish to agitate the Church, and
raise hopes which might issue in disappointment.  The
other was that the interests of the [Union] Seminary required, nay imperatively demanded, that as little delay as
possible should attend the filling of the vacancy. At the
called meeting the nomination could not be made, because it
was not contemplated in the call; but it will be made at
the regular meeting. But while there are such pressing reasons for coming to a decision as soon as practicable, there
seem to me, as before intimated, strong inducements to a
favourable determination.
"The Seminary, raised at great expense, with much toil
and solicitude, and with the sacrifice of one of the best
lives among us, is now on an elevated poise; and I know
not who is so likely to sustain it as yourself.-[Dr. Rice]
in the last hour of his mortal struggle expressed a strong
desire that the institution might continue to be conducted
on the same principles as by himself. In you, the Synods
would cordially and with great confidence unite. The institution would not be under the control of the jarring elements of the General Assembly." It is scarcely needful to
add, that none of the considerations thus proposed had sufficient force to withdraw Dr. Alexander from the post to




AUTrORSHIEP.                 417
which he had been assigned by the Church. But this adverse decision cost him a serious struggle of feeling.
This was beyond all doubt the period of his greatest
literary activity. Both in pressing his researches into the
works of others, and in committing his own thoughts to
writing, he was indefatigable, so that he scarcely knew an
idle hour. He was constantly adding to his written lectures,
filling up gaps in the series, and by compilation and original
research preparing himself for treatises and volumes which
he afterwards made public.  His voluminous manuscripts
largely belong to this period. Having discovered a faculty
of composition, of which he had long supposed himself destitute, he began to make amends for past inaction. At no
time did he contribute so much to the Biblical Repertory,
and his choice was generally directed to the most important
subjects; which, however, he saw fit to treat rather in their
principles and history, and upon their intrinsic merits, than
with express allusion to the controversies then agitating the
American Churches. Some of these essays deserve a passing
notice in any tribute to his memory.
In 1830 he communicated to the above named quarterly
work an essay on the " Early History of Pelagianism."  In
preparation for this and some kindred articles he read largely
in the works of Augustine, as well as the Massiliensian Semipelagians and their opponents. He also made himself thoroughly acquainted with the works of Jansenius, an author
in whom he took a lively interest. He communicated to those
around him a lively interest in Augustine and his times,




41 8               THIEOLOtICAL ESSAYS.
and would sometimes go largely into the story of those angir
controversies, as he sat among his family, with great animal
tion and effect. We were informed by the Rev. Dr. Symington of Glasgow, that this essay, and several analogous ones
yet to be mentioned, are not only commended to students
of the Reformed Presbyterian Church, but are even made
subjects of examination by the professor.*  The writer's own
conclusions are indicated by the last sentence of this essay:
"It is our opinion, therefore, after looking on all sides, and
contemplating the bearing and consequences of all theories
on this subject, that no one is on the whole so consistent
with facts, with the Scriptures, and with itself, as the old
doctrine of the ancient church, which traces all the sins and
evils in the world to the imputation of the first sin of Adam;
and that no other theory of original sin is capable of sustaining the test of an impartial scrutiny." The same volume
contained a contribution on "the Doctrine of Original Sin
as held by the Church, both before and after the Reformation." t In the course of the next year he published "An
Inquiry into that Inability under which the Sinner labours,
and whether it furnishes any Excuse for his Neglect of
Duty;" a dissertation which vindicated the Calvinistic
views, and was justly regarded as one of the ablest productions of his pen.+ We have already spoken of his article on
a proposed re-organization of the Presbyterian Church. This
was followed, in 1832, by a treatise on the Synod of Dort, in
which the history of doctrine in that day is treated.~ A fal
* Biblical Repertory, 1830, pp. 77-113.
f Biblical Repertory, 1830, pp. 481-503.: Biblical Repertory, 1831, pp. 360-383.
~ Biblical Repertory, 1832, pp. 239-252.




BIBLICAL REPERTORY.               419
more able article was the review of the " Essays on the Formation of Opinion and the Pursuit of Truth;" works in
which there was an insidious attack upon some fundamentals
of ethical science. The questions which are here discussed at
great length and with the utmost vigour of his mind, are two:
first, the responsibility of man for his opinions, and, secondly, whether any testimony is sufficient to establish a fact
which is a departure from the laws of nature.:  The next
year produced an essay on the Racovian Catechism, in which
he details the history and tenets of the early Socinians; and
a translation of Melancthon's treatise on Sin.t  Besides an
article on Transubstantiation, he wrote an extensive historical sketch of the Scotch Secession; and reviews of Wayland's Moral Science, and Woods on Depravity.  We omit
a number of minor reviews, which appeared during the same
period.
But his labours with the pen were by no means confined
to sermons, lectures, and periodical essays. In the year
1831, he prepared a new edition of his work on the Evidences of Christianity, with additional matter which tended
much to its completeness.  His book on the Canon of Scripture was sent to him in a London reprint, in 1832. In
1833, he published a "History of the Patriarchs."  He also
contributed to a religious journal, in 1839, those essays on
Religious Experience, which have since appeared in a volume. It is sufficiently shown, therefore, that neither pro* Biblical Repertory, 1832, pp. 394-428.
f Biblical Repertory, 1833. pp. 180-204, and pp. M21-531




420             PROSPECT OF DECLINE.
fessional toils nor the agitations of church controversy had
impaired his relish or capacity for the severe labours of the
study.
If now we take a glance at matters more personal and
domestic, we must remember that he was no longer in his
physical prime, as during this ten years' period he passed his
grand climacteric. It was certainly something remarkable,
for a man turned of sixty to apply himself with such enterprise and earnestness to new and different pursuits; the
rather, when as we afterwards learn this was only the beginning of labours which were to endure for nearly twenty years.
During the time of which we write his health was interrupted, not only by his never absent nervous disorders, but by
acute sciatica, and in 1833 by a slight hemoptysis. Sometimes he looked upon the probabilities of extended life as
very faint. Thus he writes to his eldest sister, in 1831:
" Although I wrote to you by mail not long since, I will
not permit so favourable an opportunity as that which now
offers to pass without dropping you a line. The time of our
earthly correspondence is drawing to a close. I am now in
my sixtieth year, and you are a little older.  This is an age
to which I never expected to come; but Providence has
preserved me, and brought me along; and upon a review of
my life I have reason to be thankful for the manifold blessings which I have received. But I have nothing to say respecting, my own fidelity and diligence, except what is of the
most humbling kind. I must cast myself entirely on the
free mercy of God and the rich merits of Jesus Christ.  This
is all my hope and all my salvation. I find, as I suppose




VIEWS OF pEATH.                 421
you do, that the arrival of old age does not bring death any
nearer to the feelings. I have indeed a rational conviction
that I am nearer to my end, but as to realizing apprehensions of death, I am not conscious that this acknowledged
nearness has any effect on my views of the importance of
that awful event. In regard to the state of the soul immediately after death, I find my mind filled with darkness
when I attempt to form particular conceptions of it. My
only relief is in relying on the general promises of the Gospel,
and dismissing all solicitude about the mode of existence or
the special nature of the feelings in that untried state. I
have always wished and hoped to arrive at a degree of faith
in the things of the invisible world, to which I have not yet
attained. In my ideas of divine things there is too much
of imagination-of mere notion-too little of the feeling of
reality. When, for a moment, I can conceive of eternity, as
a real, approaching state, I am startled-and feel astonished
at my habitual apathy. Sometimes, when I awake suddenly
in the night, the thought of eternity and of the judgment is
overwhelming. But these impressions soon pass away, I am
occuDied with visible scenes and earthly cares, and for a great
part of the time futurity is out of view.
"I am much concerned about the state of our Church.
Every thing in the signs of the times is ominous; for while
revivals are multiplied, errors appear to be coming in like a
flood. Divisions threaten to rend the body, and thus peace
-one of the richest blessings of the Gospel-will be lost.
But the Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice! I do not look
forward to any time when I shall have it in my power to




422                    LABOURS.
visit Virginia again. It is, however, a matter of little consequence. Let us all be engaged in preparing to meet in a
happier world.":
This was the very time at which efforts were making in
Virginia, as related above, to bring him again to his native
State. In writing to his son, he speaks of a letter, "the
object of which," says he, " was to learn whether there existed
any insuperable objection in the way of my consenting to
take Dr. Rice's place in the Union Seminary. They seem to
think that the existence of the institution will depend upon
the success of this project. I have not had time to give it
much consideration. If I were younger and more capable
of answering their expectations, I would think seriously of
it; for in the distractions of the church in this region I fear
that our Seminary will become a bone of contention. And
as Mr. Hodge is well prepared to take my place, and nothing
would be requisite but to put some young man in his place,
I do not see that this institution would suffer much loss by
my departure." t These negotiations we have already said
resulted in nothing. He made a visit to Virginia in the
Autumn of 1835, but no case occurred during the whole remainder of his life, in which he seems to have thought of
leaving New Jersey.
To give a recital of his pulpit labours, would be to repeat what has been said in the previous chapters. Scarcely
a Lord's Day passed in which he was not preaching, at home
sr abroad, and he was frequently called to such exercises
* Letter to Mrs. Graham, Jldy 27, 1831.
+ Letter to J. W. A., Sept. 15, 1831.




INFLUENCE ON THE YOUNG.            423
during the week. These labours were made much more
abundant by the great prevalence of religious awakenings in
the land; and it is remarkable, that while he was reputed
by some an enemy of revivals, or at least one ignorant of
their nature, there was no preacher whose services were
sought with greater avidity, during such seasons of religious
warmth. The controversy ran high about New Measures, or
the system of means employed in revivals On this subject, as we need scarcely say, his judgment was with that of
the sober party, a judgment which has since become that of
the Church at large.
As the number of students was now very large, he had
abundant opportunity to exercise that influence which has
already been mentioned, by means of private counsel. It is
in connection with this that hundreds remember him, with
even more warmth than in his character of public instructor.
And as many of his former pupils were now established in
their posts of usefulness, he kept up a paternal regard for
them, and often gave them letters of counsel. An eminent
clergyman, whose name would add force to the statement, if
we were sure of his permission to publish it, after referring
to his own early authorship, speaks thus of Dr. Alexander.
" I have said these things because I feel indebted to him for the
kindness with which he treated me and my maiden production.
I am under many other obligations to him; yes, more than
I can express. His sweet simplicity, his perfect naturalness,
his saintly purity; how deeply have they inscribed themselves on my memory!" The portraiture would be incomplete without some specimens of these. "If you cannot live
at::- A -," so he writes to a young minister, " on the sala



424                CORRESPONDENCE.
ry which they give you, you will be under a necessity of re.
moving; and you ought to consider whether this is not an
opening in Providence for your relief. In my opinion, no
situation is so desirable for a preacher as a pastoral charge;
and no man called to the ministry ought to relinquish it for
any other business, unless there be an evident prospect of
greater usefulness; or some physical disqualification for the
work. When a man alleges that he cannot visit, or perform
other parochial duties for which he has bodily strength, it is
just as if a servant should pretend that he cannot do the
work for which he is employed. A minister of Jesus Christ
must divest himself of fastidiousness, and exercise self-denial
in the performance of his duties. In regard however to what
is duty (in the matter of pastoral visits) every man must
judge independently for himself, and not be governed by the
whims of well-disposed but weak women. In a large city,
preparation for the pulpit is the main thing, and except in
case of illness, comparatively little good is accomplished by
running from house to house. The preacher who ably fills
the pulpit will, on the whole, get along very well. The
course in such a place as Baltimore would be for the minister first to prepare for his pulpit exercises on the Sabbath;
next he should be attentive to Bible Classes, Sunday Schools;
and catechizing; and should visit the sick. And as to visiting, he should appropriate certain portions of time, and conscientiously perform what appertains to that time.  His
calls ought to be very short, except in special cases. It is
poor economy for a man to exhaust his strength in talking
to one at a time, when he has an opportunity of saying the
same thing to hundreds or thousands."




CORRESPO'DENCE.               425
The next letter is upon a subject which always lay near
his heart, and in regard to which he had some special facilities for forming a judgment.
DR. ALEXANDER TO THE REV. WILLIAM S. PLUMER.
"PRINCETON, June 10, 1830.
"REV. AND DEAR SIR:"Your letter came to hand just as our examination had
commenced, which prevented an immediate answer, and
ever since I have been in Philadelphia, or away from home
in some other place. The subject on which you ask advice
is both delicate and difficult; and for one so far off, it is
impossible to judge correctly on the course most proper to be
pursued by a person situated as you are. It seems to me,
however, that when Providence has cast the lot of one of his
servants in the country of slavery, he ought not to abandon
it on account of prospective evils, the existence of which is
only conjectural; or, if certain, which would not be greater
than evils of another kind, which must be encountered, let a
man go where he will. It is now becoming more and more
a subject of consideration with our zealous young men here
whether duty does not call some of them to make every
sacrifice of personal comfort, and to devote themselves to
the instruction of the slaves. Surely they ought not to be
abandoned to ignorance and vice, without an effort to rescue
them from ruin; but if ministers will flee from their work
in the southern States, simply because of the existence of
slavery, how can it be hoped that others, knowing such facts,
will venture into such regions?  My opinion, therefore, is,




426           INSTRUCTION OF SLAVES.
that as you have formed a permanent connection in that
country, and have become a slaveholder, you ought to remain, and endeavour by all lawful means to extend the
blessing of salvation to that degraded people. And if you
wish for my opinion as to how you may best promote the.
welfare of those whom Providence has committed to your
care, and for whom you must give account, I would say,
that you can best promote their happiness by keeping them
in your possession, and instructing them in the Christian
religion. No one can prevent your instnructing them in the
great truths of religion; and even if the laws should become
so rigid as to forbid their being taught to read, this will
render the use of oral instruction far more important. And
all experience teaches me, that the living voice is the proper
medium of instructing the ignorant.  Those persons who
learn to read imperfectly derive very little benefit from the
art; a few sentences, pronounced viva voce, sink more
deeply into their hearts than many pages spelled over with
great difficulty.
" As to bringing the unhappy creatures to the northern
States, it has been demonstrated by experience that it is, in
general, ruinous.-My advice then is, that you remain at
B., if the people wish it, and lay yourself out to do all the
good you can to black and white; and if you cannot operate
in one way, you will be able to do good in another. Remember, however, that'the husbandman hath long patience,' after he has sowed the seed. Do not expect to
effect much by storm, but understand that moral improvement is always gradual, and very commonly imperceptible




INSTRUCTION OF SLAVES.             427
from day to day. Labour assiduously, and trust in God for
the fruit, although every body around should be lamenting
that nothing is done. It is too much the error of the day,
and especially of the South, to aim at unnecessary excitement; to push things to an extreme from which they must
speedily return; and then, like an elastic cord, will spring
nearly as far beyond the mark on the opposite side. Observe, I do not say it is unlawful to leave the South, in any
circumstances. I only mean to say that the reasons which
you mention are not the ones which should induce you to
take that step. If Providence needs you more elsewhere
the door will be set wide open, and your call clear. As to
place, when duty calls you will find the right one. Beware
of discouragement. It cuts the nerves of effort —of steady
persevering effort-completely.  The news from the General
Assembly you will receive from others; and I have nothing
interesting to communicate from this place. It is now vacation, and we are for a while in solitude.
"Yours affectionately,
" A. A."
DR. ALEXANDER TO THE SAME.
"PRINCETON, July 1, 1834.'C DEAR SIR:
"I have received your two letters, which came to hand
the same day, one dated May 27, the other June 10. In
regard to historical facts I will keep the subject in mind,
and set down such fragments of knowledge as I have. Dates
will be defective; but facts may be of use without precise
dates.




428            INSTRUCTION OF SA VES.
"As to the instruction of the coloured people, as the
blacks are called in this country, I know nothing of importance. The Rev. John Mines, some years since, prepared a
catechism for their instruction, which I revised in manuscript. It was printed, but never came into use. It was
intended to be used by the catechist in the instruction of
such as were unable to read. Dr. Palmer, of Charleston,
published one somewhat similar, accompanied with prayers,
a copy of which I have. Some years ago, I delivered a'hastily written discourse to the Society for promoting religion
among the Coloured Population. That discourse is somewhere among my papers; what it contains I know not; but
if you wish to have it, I will look it up and send it to you.
" The early Presbyterian ministers in Old Virginia were
far more attentive to the instruction of the blacks than their
immediate successors. I have had under my pastoral care a
number of Mr. Davies's converts, particularly Will and Ned,
brothers, who belonged to Col. Thomas Read of Charlotte,
and were eminent for piety.  Both were natives of Africa.
They were brought over when boys, and were taught to read
by Mr. Davies, or some one under his direction. Will adhered to the Presbyterian Church while I remained in Virginia, but Ned went over to the Baptists and became a
preacher. They were both very aged when I last saw them.
Old Harry, who belonged to Ben Allen, in Cumberland, was
one of the most fervently devout men I ever met with. He
also could read, and had a Bible which had been given him
by Mir. Davies; but having come to the country after he
was grown to be a man, he spoke our language in so broken




PREACHING TO SLAVES.             429
a manner that I could not understand much of what he said;
but his soul appeared to be all on fire with love to Jesus
Christ. One of tile most fervent spirits I ever knew was old
Molly, who once belonged to Dr. John Blair Smith. At public
worship she could not restrain the expression of her feelings.
As her noise disturbed the congregation, he expostulated
much with her, but all in vain. When I lived at Hampden
Sidney, she belonged, I think, to Martin Sadler.
"The Presbyterian preacher who laboured more than
any other among the blacks, and with more success, was the
Rev. Robert Henry, of Charlotte. He7 was the pastor of
Cub Creek and Briery, and was a very singular man. Though
a graduate of Nassau Hall, he was a rough, uncultivated
Scotchman, who so blundered in preaching that he often
placed himself in a very awkward attitude.  Old Father
Patillo, upon being asked in my presence about Robert
Henry, said,'He had as much grace as would'serve two
men, but not half enough for himself.' He delighted in
preaching to the negroes, and as the fruit of his labours, had
nearly a hundred communicants at Cub Creek alone. When
I commenced my ministry there, the number was above seventy. Twenty-five communicants, and several of. them distinguished for piety, belonged to Mrs. Coles, on Staunton
River; and this lady, the mother of MIrs. [Paul] Carrington,
of Sylvan Hill, though not a member of the Presbyterian
Church, testified to the good effects of religion upon her servants. Almost all her house-servants were members of the
Church, and one man was constituted by the session an overseer of the coloured communicants. It was a lovely sight to




430             PREACHING TO SLAVES.
see these seventy blacks surrounding the table of the Lord.
I see the pious and humble labours of this servant of God
are now likely to be overlooked and forgotten. The trumpets
for sounding the praises of men were not used in his day.
The existence of this body of black communicants, and the
great number of other blacks who attended at Cub Creek,
induced Dr. [John H.] Rice, when a pastor of this church,
to apply for a commission to labour for a part of his time
among them.
"Old Mr. Mitchell, if his memory is not gone, can furnish you with facts which no living man beside can. He can
tell you of the labours of his father-in-law, the Rev. David
Rice, and of his colleague the Rev. James Turner, both of
whom, I think, preached often to the blacks.-[In later
times] I know it to be a fact that multitudes would walk
ten miles to hear a black man who could not read a word,
[in preference] to going to hear the best sermons within a
few miles. And when we made appointments to preach to
them alone, which was often done, their habit of indulging
their feelings, by shouting, and their desire to have such feelings roused, presented an effectual bar to regular instruction.
This they thought was religion, and the way to glorify God.
Still much more might have been done [by later ministers.]
When I left the State, upon a retrospect of my ministry, I
deeply regretted that I had not laboured more for the instruction of these people; and I wrote to my friend, the
Rev. Matthew Lyle, an earnest exhortation to attempt more
in this way.-We had no difficulty from the government,
when I resided in Virginia; but events occurred soon after,




FOREIGN MISSIONS.               431
which induced the legislature to enact stricter laws, and
which caused the people to be more jealous. In the Valley,
when I was a boy, the number of blacks was very small. A
few wealthy families only possessed slaves. Ministers there
had therefore little to do with this subject.
"I remain, respectfully and affectionately, yours, &c.,
"A. A."
The scheme of Foreign Missions under the care of the
Presbyterian Church originated in the West, and became a
fruitful cause of contention in the General Assembly.  The
work which is now performed by our Board of Foreign Missions was begun by the Western Missionary Society. While
many continued to harbour doubts, Dr. Alexander fully believed that such enlarged operations as we have since seen
realized, were justly to be expected. He therefore wrote
to a confidential friend, concerning the Church enterprise:
" The reason for encouraging its institution, in most concerned, was to bring out resources from parts of the Church
which were perfectly dormant.  Thus far, it has succeeded
beyond expectation. The Philadelphia Synod will be the principal dependence on this side of the mountains. —New-York
city furnishes the richest field for all pecuniary operations.""
He was always a zealous advocate for the work of Foreign Missions, and was accustomed to indulge liberal and
sarnguine expectations at times when many good men were
ready to be appalled.  His interest in the work was augmented and enlightened by " that minute and unapproachable topographical knowledge" (we use the words of the Rev,
* Letter to the Rev. Henry R. Weed, March 9, 1835.




432             INTEREST IN MISSIONS.
Dr. Davidson), "which no other man possessed, and of -which
nothing in print, or to be put in print, can give an adequate
idea." He followed with anxious inquiry those students who
became foreign missionaries, and maintained a lively intercourse with some of them. His correspondence with Mr.
Whiting of the Syrian Mission, and Dr. Armstrong of the
Sandwich Islands, would add to the value of our work, if it
could be recovered. At the monthly prayer-meetings held
in the Seminary for the spread of the Gospel, he often
poured out his stores of information on these subjects; and
for a time he delivered a series of weekly lectures, in the
evening, in the chapel of the Institution.
We shall next make copious extracts from a communication on a subject of great delicacy and importance; it is
that of supposed early conversions:
"I was not aware," he writes to a friend,'until your
letter put me on the inquiry, how barren my memory is of
facts concerning early piety; I mean such as have fallen
under my own observation. In books, you can find many
cases, but —strange as it may seem, and it is as discouraging
as strange-I cannot remember one solitary instance of decided piety in childhood, where the child lived to adult age
to prove the genuineness of the change. And I do not here
confine myself to the earliest stages of childhood, but include
the whole-period under twelve years of age. I will correct
what I have said, by mentioning a case which just now occurs to my memory.  The Rev. Mr. Robinson, pastor of the
Cove, Albemarle, Va., had a little son, who at the age of six




CORRESPONDENCE.                433
or seven years gave evidence of experimental religion. I
never conversed with the child, but heard of him from many,
and was well acquainted with his father, who on one occasion
took the child over the mountain to the Synod, with the view
of conversing with the ministers, that he might receive advice about admitting him to the Lord's table. On some
account, I was not at that meeting, but heard of the fact
from those who were there. Whether he was then admitted,
I cannot be sure; but if not, it was soon afterwards. This
young man you must have known when you lived in Lexington. I think he was graduated at Washington College.
He died of a fever, at the Union Seminary, soon after he
was licensed, and I have understood always gave good evidence of piety, living and dying.
"I have, however, seen many beautiful and hopeful blossoms, which were never followed by mature fruit. A. B.
was the daughter of an excellent man in Berkeley (now Jefferson) County, and the granddaughter of one still more
eminent for piety-one of the fruits of the ministry of' Oneeyed Robinson,' the first apostle of Virginia, though now
remembered there no longer. This little girl, in 1791, was
about eight years of age. She was intelligent, grave, modest,
very conscientious, loved to hear sermons, was ready to converse on religion, and seemed to have a warm affection
towards Christian people. I was much at the house, as I
made it one of my homes, the first winter after being
licensed. I never saw any thing in this child but what
was indicative of pure and elevated piety. She was almost
entirely exempt even from childish levity, and, as her




434              EARLY CONVERSIONS.
mother told me, was consistent in private devotion.  I did
not entertain a doubt of her being a regenerated person.
But, as I have been informed, for I' saw her no more, as she
grew up all her religious feelings wore off, and she became as
gay and careless as other young ladies of her own age.
Whether she is now living, or what was the course of her
after life, I know not.
"( C. D., a boy of thirteen or fourteen, attracted universal
notice by the apparent fervency of his pious feelings. His
prayers in public havo melted large congregations into tears,
and none doubted the genuineness of his piety. But when
exposed to the company of irreligious companions at college,
he became entirely careless; and if not skeptical, has lived
afar from God until this day, though a man of talents and
character, and high standing in the world. HIe was of my
own age, and when I was careless, he faithfully and tenderly
addressed me on the subject of religion, and not without
some present effect. Ite said to me then, however,'The
pious are deceived about me; I have never experienced a
saving change, and I have withdrawn from the Lord's table.'
Some years afterwards, I met him, in company with some of
the profanest young men I ever saw; though out of his
mouth I never heard a profane expression. I felt that I
owed him a debt, and having then more zeal than now, I
waited for an opportunity to speak with him. He candidly
confessed, that all his religious impressions were gone; that
his views of religion were greatly changed, and that when
he was the subject of these, he was misled by a set of
enthusiastic preachers, in whose opinions he now had no
confidence,




CASES OF RELAPSE.               435
" E. F. was another, who about the same age gave pleasing evidence of having received a new heart. Old Christians
would smile and weep when they heard him converse or pray.
It was a revival season, and he was much noticed and caressed, and after a while evidently became vain. He fell in
love also with a lady much older than himself, and appeared
like one almost distracted. He turned from religion somewhat suddenly,. and became one of the most profane men in
the land. His after history is unknown to me.
" G. II. was an obscure apprentice to a tanner. He was
seen attending prayer-meetings, and one wet evening, when
the good simple old man who conducted the meeting found
none to aid him in the prayers, he asked this boy if he would
not pray. The youth consented, and the people who were
present reported that no minister could make a better
prayer. He was thenceforward called out, upon all occasions.
Even in church, the minister after sermon would call on G.
H. to pray, and all wondered how this boy, who had nothing
but the most common education in the world, could excel
the most learned and eloquent ministers in prayer; and some
good people would rather hear G. H. pray, than listen to the
best sermon. After some time, however, there was a manifest change. The style of his prayers became more artificial
and elaborate, and there was an observable straining after
striking expressions. But it was resolved that he should be
a preacher.-God had determined otherwise; for though he
was sent to school and afterwards to college, the Presbytery
would not receive hinm when he offered himself as a candilate; his vanity and arrogance had become so manifest and




436              EARLY IMPRESSIONS.
insupportable. He was mortified and grievously offended,
and immediately engaged in the study of the law. His
course was downward, and his end hopeless. Man looketh
on the outward appearance, but God judgeth the heart.
Gifts are no sign of grace.
"My old teacher, the Rev. William  Graham, had no
confidence in any appearances of early piety. He said they
were seldom permanent. But read the account of Mrs. Edwards, wife of President Edwards. Did any one ever give
better evidence of religion pure and undefiled?  Look at a
great many other cases, in Janeway's Token for Children,
&c. I have taken up an opinion, that all religious impressions made by truth are salutary, even if conversion does not
immediately follow. The fruits in a revival are commonly
from seed sown long before. This in the spiritual world is
precisely analogous to the harvest in the natural world. But
to the query, what ought to be done. God has promised to
ordain strength out of the mouths of babes and sucklings.
It is unbelief to deny that the grace of God can reach children. Why so few are converted in that age, we do not
know. Old Dr. Hopkins believed and taught, that God has
conditionally promised the salvation of baptized children, to
parents in the baptismal covenant. (See his system of Divinity.) But even if this were true, it does not follow that
they shall all be brought in while children. Mr. Richard
Baxter, in his Dispute with Tombes, says that the time will
probably come, when there will be but few conversions within
the pale of the church by the public preaching of the Word,
is children will be pious under parental culture, before they




ROBERT MAY.                  437
can attend with profit on the ministry of the Word. Do
you ask what should be done for children? Persuade parents
to do their duty; to bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. But I have a favourite notion, that
this is a rich uncultivated missionary field. There should
be a class of preachers for children, alone.  If I were a
young man, I would, God willing, choose that field. Twenty-five years ago, a little man by the name of Robert May,
came to Philadelphia, from the London Missionary Society,
on his way to Hindostan; for the European war rendered it
safest to come here and go in an American vessel. He and
his wife were I think the most diminutive couple I ever saw
matched, and they were childlike in their feelings of vivacity
and versatility.  Mr. May never entered a house without
inquiring for the children; and his manners were so puerile
and affectionate, that they would soon cluster around him,
and clamber on his knee, or cling to his skirts. In fact he
conversed very little with grown people. He was not in his
element with such, while with children he was all alive, fill
of anecdote and pleasantry; but every story had a good end,
and the winding up would make them feel serious and often
weep after all their mirth. On Saturday afternoon, when
the schools were not in session, he would preach or lecture
to them, and sometimes a thousand would attend. A small
volume of these lectures was printed. This dear little man
remained several months in Philadelphia, before he met with
a passage. In India, at a place called Chinsurah [in Bengal,
eighteen miles north of Calcutta], he commenced his operations among heathen children; and when he was called




438            PREACHERS TO CHILDREN.
home, which was about three years after his arrival there, he
had twenty-fi&e schools under his care. Look into the Re.
ports of the London Missionary Society, or the Evangelical
Magazine, for some account of him.
" Our common preaching does the children no manner of
good. I am doubtful whether the custom of taking and
confining them during the service is not injurious.  But
pass this; sermons suited to children can be preached. I
have tried it over and over, and I never had an audience
more attentive, or who better understood my meaning. I
often go now, and deliver addresses to them at Sunday-school
anniversaries; and to keep up and enliven attention I commonly stop and ask them questions, which I expect them to
answer. They seldom refuse to speak, and their answers
give opportunity for further explanation. I delight in such
discourses, and if I had health and leisure would have one
every week. Perhaps I shall, as it is. But I am constrained
to remark, that the talent of preaching to children is of all
other preaching talents the most rare. A brother who has
better preaching talents than myself, and more piety, when
he speaks to the children reads them a discourse from a
paper, so composed as to be fit bor the press; but while it is
in the course of delivery, almost every one is vacant or wandering. I. J. K. has a great love for children, and has
devoted himself to the Sunday-School cause, and thinks he
has the talent of addressing them. I went to hear him,
and of all the affected, vulgar, quaint, ill-adapted discourses
this exceeded. The more sensible children laughed in his
face. L. M., once a student here, often undertook to address




)DR. LIVINGSTON.               439
children.  HIis method was to entertain them with figurative
and exaggerated stories. Sometimes he terrified the little
urchins almost into fits. One of my children was present at
his meeting when a thunder storm of some violence arose;
to increase the terror he blew out the candles and intimated
that perhaps the day of judgment was come. Another dear
old brother screams at the top of an astounding voice, and
they gaze in stupid wonder. Too much noise drives away
thought. No man can have any variety of ideas, nor any
connected train, beneath the deafening roar of a cataract.
I thought at first that the sea shore would be an excellent.
place for meditation; but the ocean-war drove away every
thing but the one uniform sombre emotion. You perceive
by my egotism and digressions that I am growing old."`:
The letters just cited illustrate a disposition of Dr.
Alexander to draw largely on his own early observation, and
this was still more strikingly exemplified in his ordinary discourse. The same will appear in a paragraph which we
refer to this period, and which undoubtedly refers to the late
Dr. Livingston, of New Brunswick, for whom he entertained
an unusual veneration.
" Another divine, who belonged to a different denomination, and left the world a few years ago, seemed to me to be
eminent in piety. Religion appeared uppermost in his mind
at home and abroad. I believe he was seldom in company
with any one without saying something about the worth of
the soul, or the excellencies of the Saviour. When he entered any house, he seldom sat many minutes without introducing some discourse respecting divine things, and this no
* Letter to the Rev. William S. Plumer. Februalry 26. 1834




440                DR. LIVINGSTON.
in a stiff formal manner, but affectionately and earnestly
He was fond of conversing on experimental religion, and
freely communicated many interesting particulars concerning
the exercises of his own mind, and the various trials and
conflicts which he had experienced in his religious progress.
He mentioned, that when a young man he had long laboured
under distress of mind, which was not removed until he
heard Whitefield preach; when a single text repeated by the
speaker seemed directed to him individually, and all his
darkness was removed. He had much confidence in the
powerful application of particular texts or promises to the
mind; believing that the Spirit directed them to the heart,
for the relief of distressed souls. He mentioned a particular
verse, which had been thus remarkably brought to his mind
in answer to prayer for some brighter manifestation of God's
favour.
" On a particular occasion I had occasion to observe how
he seized every opportunity, at public houses, to say something which might leave a good impression. The keeper of
the inn himself attended at dinner, and my venerable friend
began a story, addressing himself to me. The man presently
went out; he paused in his narrative, and as I was surprised
at his breaking off so abruptly, he said to me in a low voice,'I commenced this story with a view of benefiting our host;
wait till he comes in;' and then resumed it. At another
place where we stopped, when about to depart, he took the
owner of the house to one side and gave him a pointed and
powerful exhortation.  Wherever he was, he made all know




DEATH OF EARLY FRIENDS.            441
that, there was one in company who feared God, and who was
neither afraid nor ashamed to acknowledge hisdependence
on him. On crowded steamboats, he would always publicly
ask a blessing at meals. His appearance favoured this, being
truly venerable. He was a man of large frame, and wore a
flowing white wig. His heart seemed to be always overflowing with kind affections. Most of the middle-aged ministers
of the Reformed Dutch Church studied under his direction,
and revere his memory."
Among other tokens of advancing life, Dr. Alexandei
was warned by the removal of several early.friends, who were
called away during the years to which this chapter refers.
His friend and kinsman, the Rev. Matthew Lyle, had been
called away in 1827. We have already recorded the death
of Dr. John H. Rice, for whom he entertained as warm a
regard as for any man living. He was not only a great man,
but a man of great affections. A little domestic instance
will place his friendship for Dr. Alexander in a strong light.
Soon after the removal of the latter to the north, Mr. Rice
wrote to him thus: "And here let me make a request of
you, which I have often thought of making before. I do it,
seriously, and in the spirit of a friendship which I am assured
will last while life lasts. If it should please the All-wise
Disposer of events to remove you from your family before
they are educated and settled in the world, and I should be
spared, it is my most earnest wish that you would leave to
me that one of your children to whom you may judge that
it would be most advantageous. He shall in such case be
to me a child, and I to him as a father.  I hope that you




442           DEATH OF EARLY FRIENDS.
will excuse me for making such a,equest, and that it may
not be forgotten.""  And after She lapse of twenty years, he
resumes the subject: "I owe you more than I do any other
man in existence. It is not in my power to do any thing for
you personally; but should the Sovereign of the universe be
pleased to order that I should survive you, it may be in my
power to act the part of an efficient friend to some of your
children."t  In 1836, the Rev. Conrad Speece, D. D., another companion of his youth, already named in these pages,
was suddenly taken to his rest. These and similar events
had an obvious effect upon the toemper of his mind; not in
the way of gloom, but as producing an elevated solemnity
and habitual expectation of the time when his own change
should come. Yet he urged forward all his pursuits with
unabated vigour, and rejoiced to see others rising up to vindicate the truth which he loved. That some of these persons belonged to other denominations, did not seem to diminish his regard for them.  When in 1839, Dr. Nettleton
spent some time in Princeton, Dr. Alexander found much
satisfaction in observing the coincidence of their views on
the great and contested points of evangelical theology. And
in the same year, when the accomplished and pious Joseph
John Gurney exercised his public gifts among us, he took
equal pleasure in the remarkable approaches which this good
Quaker made to the doctrines of sound faith. At the age
of sixi y-seven, no feeling of religious warmth manifested any
abatement.
We suppose that no one was ever long conversant with
* July 115, 1810.  j July 21, 1830




TOPOGRAPHIICAL FACULTY.            443
Dr. Alexander, without being astonished at his turn for the
particulars of localities, and his topographical knowledge.
In the estimate of those who knew him most closely, this
was by far the most remarkable of his endowments. It was
doubtless fostered by his living in boyhood in a wild country, and by the continual and often solitary journeys of his
early manhood.  However much he might seem to be otherwise employed, his eye was always directed to the surface of
the country and its natural configuration. To have travelled
a road once was to know it, with all its landmarks for the
whole of his life.  Wherever he had wandered, he knew
the direction of all the streams, their rise and flow, the
chains of hills or mountains, the nature of soils, timber
and crops, and the ridges which mark and divide the watersystems. And he had the faculty of extracting the same
sort of information from travellers and others coming from
regions which he had not visited. It was a standard topic
of merriment with him to banter his children upon their
occasional blunders in determining the species of a forest tree.
As he began his eager inquiries on these subjects when our
States were few in number, he was able to add to his knowledge as new countries were settled; so that we suppose
there was no man living whose acquaintance with the geography and topography of America was more extensive or
exact. In times when private modes of travel were common,
we have known him to draw plans of journeys, extending
through several hundred miles, for missionaries leaving home,
with a note of distances and a specification of every night's
sojourn; without the consultation of book or map.  This




444            KNOWLEDGE OF CHURCHES.
knowledge reached also, far beyond what is common, to foreign countries, and was perpetually increasing by his study of
every thing new in the shape of voyages and travels. For
the same reason he took a lively interest in all that belongs
to the natural delineation of the earth, and in his later years
perused with much zest the works of Mrs. Somerville and
Professor Guyot on Physical Geography.
As connected with what has just been mentioned, and in
some degree falling under the same faculty, we may note his
acquaintance with all the churches and pastors of our Presbyterian connection. If we did not know that hundreds
now living can bear witness to what we say, we should be led
to modify the strength of the statement which we are about
to make. The whole territory of the Church was so mapped
out in his head, that it is scarcely too much to affirm that
he knew who was the pastor of every Presbyterian Church
in the United States. Notices in journals and elsewhere,
which made little impression on others, seized his attention,
and seemed to fall into the right places and fill up the proper
blanks. In most cases he knew also the whole line of incumbents from the beginning. This knowledge extended quite
largely to other branches of the Church. As his pupils from
year to year spread themselves over the country, he followed
them in their wanderings, and particularly kept his eye upon
those who went to foreign lands. There was not a missionary, of either our own Church or the American Boardl, with
whose locality be was not perfectly familiar.




CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH.
1840-1851.
DEoLlN~rG YEARS-UNABATED STRENGTH OF MIND-CORRESPONDENCE Rir
SPECTING DEATH-STUDIES-EXTRAORDINARY LABOURS IN WRITINGDOCTOR JOHN BRECKINRIDGE —SLAVES AND SLAVERY-VISIT TO VIRGINIA
-LOSS OF FRIENDS-PUBLICATIONS-ACTIVITY AND HAPPINESS OF nIS
OLD AGE.
FROM  part of his public duty he was now to be relieved,
in consequence of the resolution of the General Assembly of 1840, that Dr. Hodge should be made Professor of
Exegetical and Didactic Theology, and that his own title
should hereafter be Professor of Pastoral and Polemic
Theology. The closing period of his life occupies somewhat
more than ten years, and begins about his sixty-ninth year
When we speak of him however as declining, the word must
be received as applicable rather to body than to mind. No
one could perceive any abatement of his intellectual vigour,
and in regard to professional and literary labour he never
was more abundant. His was in the highest sense a happy




446                DECLINING YEARS.
old age; and the remembrance of it fills his surviving friends
with satisfaction and thankfulness.
He had lived to see the institution to which his life had
been devoted, not merely established, but at its very highest
prosperity; and during these years the number of students
attained its maximum. In every part of the country, and
in the missions of other lands, were men of piety and distinction, who looked back with affectionate veneration to his
paternal care.
As the horizon of his view was thus extended, he seemed
to glow with a larger benevolence, and at no time manifested
more lively interest in every new proposal for the spread of
the Redeemer's kingdom, than now when he felt that his
days on earth were numbered. It was a common observation concerning him, that while his judgment was cool and
his policy conservative, he never rejected any scheme because
it was novel; and no man was more sanguine in hope than
he, with regard to great enterprises from which even younger
persons were disposed to recoil. Yet he was not slow to
recognise the tokens of decaying nature, and to draw from
them appropriate reflections. In 1840, he thus begins a
letter.  "This day, forty-nine years ago, I was licensed to
preach. You may know from this that I am growing old,
and of course approaching the end of my pilgrimage. My
health, however, is as firm as it has been for years; only I
am still distressed with weakness of nerves. Dr. Miller has
had several attacks of low fever this year, but is now restored
to his usual health. My family have been blessed with un



VIEWS OF THE FUTURE.                447
interrupted health for more than a year, so that we have not
once had to call in a physician. For this we desire to be
humbly thankful to Him'who forgiveth all our iniquities,
and healeth all our diseases."'   And some months after
this, to his elder sister: "For some time I entertained a
thought of visiting my friends in Virginia this summer; but
after reflecting seriously on my age, and on the expense of
the journey, on the small benefit that would accrue, and the
important duties which require my attention, I came to the
conclusion that it was rather my duty to stay than to go.
Whether I shall ever see you and my other friends again, is.lucertain, but it is a matter of little consequence. If we
ian only so live and act as to have an entrance administered
to us into the kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ,
it will not be long before we shall meet where parting is no
more. Our contemporaries are fast dropping off, and indeed
very few of our early acquaintances are now left. The death
of' Dr. Baxter was a solemn admonition to me. We were in
the same office, and nearly of the same age, and his constitution seemed much more robust than mine; but he is taken
and I am left." t
The same year deprived him of a younger friend, the
Rev. John Breckinridge, D. D., once his pupil, and for a
time his colleague; a man whom he respected for his talents,
elrtilence and chivalrous bearing, and loved for his affection* Letter to the Rev. Henry R. Weed, D. D., October 1, 1840.
+ Letter to Mrs. Graham, IMy 31, 1841.




448               DR. BRECKINRIDGE.
ate converse and ardent piety. It was often remarked b1
the household, that no one had the faculty of drawing forth
his powers in animated conversation, so fully as this warm
and brilliant friend. And though Dr. Breckinridge was eminently remote from any thing like undignified levity, he knew
so well how to present that side of any subject which was en.
tertaining, that his presence used to make itself known by
the peals of genial laughter which would burst from the
study.  He was equally skilled to touch the chords of Christian pathos. And we may be allowed to say, that the Church
has seldom lost a man who more happily united devout tenderness and philanthropic zeal with manly honour and high
courage.in his Master's cause.
Though the difference in age was so great, Dr. Alexander
looked on his junior colleague with high respect; which is
testified by the following sentences from his Introductory
Lecture, next following the bereavement; it is likely that
much more was uttered by him: " On this occasion also it
seems to be highly proper to make solemn mention of the
decease of one of the most active, energetic and eloquent
ministers of the Presbyterian Church, who had been not only
a student but for some time a Professor in this Seminary.
You will all understand me to speak of the late Doctor John
Brecklinridge, whose death, in the midst of his years, and in
the midst of the most enlarged and flattering prospects of
usefulness, is an event which should not be overlooked by the
Church, nor cursorily passed over by this Seminary, to which
ho, was ever an ardent and efficient friend.  Few men filled




SERMON AT RICHMOND.             449
a larger space in the view of the Church and the public, and
few men could be taken from the earth who will be more
missed. He was indeed'a burning and a shining light,' but
we were permitted to rejoice in his light only for a short
season. Our only solace under this affliction is, that it was
the stroke of our Heavenly Father, who is infinitely wise
and good; and that our brother departed in the full assurance of faith and hope, and now rejoices in the presence of
Him whom unseen he loved, and in whom he believed, which
is far better than any pleasure to be enjoyed on earth. But
let the memory of the devoted servants of the Lord, and of
their work of faith and labour of love, be affectionately cherished by the Church."
In the spring of 1842, Dr. Alexander made a flying visit
to Richmond, where he delivered a discourse which was published. The subject was, " The People of God led in unknown ways;" from Isa. xiii. 16. On his return he writes to
his sister: "My going to Richmond was a sudden thing, and
I was obliged to come back immediately to fulfil appointments made in the State of New-York. I therefore could
not with any ease or comfort extend my visit to Rockbridge.
During this vacation I have been almost constantly in motion, and my health has generally been good; they tell me
every where that I have grown much more corpulent than I
formerly was. My principal weakness is in the stomach and
nerves; and though diseases of this kind are not attended
with immediate danger, they make us very miserable at
times, and at last become incurable and end in lingering




450               VISIT TO VIRGINIA.
death. I have been appointed by the Board of Missions tc
visit, in company with a younger man, the western counties
of New-York; to ascertain the state of the churches there.
But I am very doubtful whether a person of my age should
undertake so long a journey, or whether any good is likely to
arise from  such a visit.-I am thankfill that my life has
been spared to see all my children educated. And now if I
could see them all pious members of the church, I should be
disposed to say,'Now, Lord, let thy servant depart in
peace.'" 
Notwithstanding the adverse prognostics of this letter,
he was permitted to revisit Virginia in the summer of 1843.
On this occasion he delivered a discourse before the Alumni
Association of Washington College, on the Commencement
Day, June 29th. From the crowd of persons and the extreme heat, he was during the address seized with a faintness, which was alarming, and which made it necessary for
him to be carried into the open air. No expostulations,
however, could induce him to desist. He was especially desirous to say something in honour of his old teacher, Mr.
Graham. He therefore returned and completed the delivery
of the Address. Its last words were these: "Having now
finished what I wished to communicate at this time, I must,
my beloved friends, take a solemn and last farewell of you
all; expecting never again to see the faces of most of you
in the flesh.. May IHeaven's richest blessings attend you!"
From the columns of a religious journal, published some
* Letter to Mrs. Graham, July 5, 1842.




LEXINGTON ADDRESS.              451
time after the event, we derive the following statement: " I
shall never forget some circumstances connected with his
last visit to Virginia. It was the summer of 1843. He
came, as he told me when I met with him, reckoning upon
it as his last visit to his native region. Dr. Alexander
opened the Commencement exercises with a short prayer.
A generation long gone by seemed to be represented in
him, and while he sat looking down upon the scene, and partaking of the varying emotions that swayed the auditory, I
could not but fancy what thoughts and feelings must have
been passing through his mind, far out of the range of those
that were present to the minds of others there. He had
been one of the early students of Liberty Hall Academy,
under its first rector, William  Graham, a man of eminent
talents and piety, who well deserves to be honoured as the
father of learning in West Virginia, and who was the precoptor likewise of Baxter, Speece, J. H. Rice, and other
men of note, both in church and state.
" In the afternoon the audience again filled the spacious
building to hear Dr. Alexander, the most of them for the
last time.  The heat of the crowded house, and the effort of
the occasion, coming after the fatigue and excitement of the
morning, were too much for an aged man, like Dr. Alexander. He faltered in the midst of his discourse, grew pale,
stopped and sank back into his seat, every heart in the vast
assembly beating quick at such an interruption. In a few
moments he rose, and renewed the-effort; but it would not
do.  It was not long before he gave way, and had to be car.




452              LEXINGTON ADDRESS.
ried out of the house in his chair. I had listened in painful
anxiety from the time that he had commenced again, and the
feelings of the audience were now all absorbed in concern for
him   Who could tell but that the cords of an aged and
feeble life, too tensely stretched, might suddenly snap, and
the scene wind up with a melancholy and thrilling event.
"Friends gathered around him, and begged that he
would leave off, suggesting that, with his consent, the address would be printed. He declared his intention of going
on. It was then suggested that the rest should be read by
some person for him. But no, he persisted strangely, and
as it almost seemed, obstinately. What was the secret of his
pertinacity? He had an office to perform, he had a tribute
to pay on that last occasion. And there, under the shadow
of the old church, surrounded by the descendants of his
own paternal family, and of his contemporaries, amidst the
tombs of his own generation, and within a few yards of the
graves of his own parents, he sat and read his tribute to
Mr. Graham-the audience clustering around him, and
hanging with fixed and tearful attention on his closing
words. He sketched the character of Graham, spoke of his
services to the cause of learning and religion, and concluded
with a few impressive remarks, in which he spoke of himself
as the sole survivor of the whole number of officers and students, connected with Liberty Hall at the time of his entrance, and for two or three years afterwards, and exhorted
those about him, as one who never expected to see them
again, to seek salvation through the infinite merits of a Redeemer.




JOURNEY HOMEWARD.                 453
"The address has been printed. But it needs that one
should have been present to feel the full impression of it, as
delivered.
"That face and form, that group, the old church, the
churchyard with its monuments, all seen amid the lengthening shadows of declining day, formed a scene for a
painter's pencil. It was a most striking and appropriate
picture for the last page of such a man's pilgrimage to the
place of his birth and of his fathers' graves.
"N. L."
Concerning this visit, his eldest brother, Andrew Alexander, Esq., thus wrote: "We have been very much gratified with the visit of your father. There were frequently
present the three brothers and two sisters. It is not common
for so many aged brothers and sisters to meet; the youngest
being sixty-seven years old. It is not at all probable that
we shall ever again meet in this world." It is instructive to
add, that at this present writing, only one of that venerable
circle survives.
On returning from this memorable visit, Dr. Alexander
thus addresses his sister: "After an absence of sixty-four
lays, I returned home; preserved from illness and all fatal
accidents. But the day before I reached home I met with
a slight disaster, which, if a kind Providence had not interposed, might have been very serious. For in going from
Chambersburg to Carlisle, when in sight of Shippensburg, the
car in which I was with many others, ran off the track into
a ditch.  The locomotive which did not leave the track broke




454              JOURNEY HOMEWARD.
loose from the car by snapping the chain; otherwise we
should have been dragged along, overturned, and perhaps
killed. Whereas we all escaped with very slight injury. I
believe that I was more hurt than any other person, having
been driven against the seat before me, by which I got a
stroke on the leg, just below the knee. I felt it so little,
however, that I walked nearly half a mile to Shippensburg,
and then did not think it worth while to examine the place.
But at Carlisle I found the leg much swelled, and the skin
torn off. I had an appointment to preach in the evening,
and though I was unfit for public service I found it necessary to go into the pulpit and make the effort,. Next day I
came all the way home, and have been ever since almost entirely confined to the house; for by some means, I know not
how, my ankle was sprained. But I am now nearly well of
my bruises, and all the time have enjoyed excellent health.
I found all well at home. —I have sent on my Alumni Discourse to Dr. Ruffner. I might as well have left it, for I
had no opportunity of transcribing it, or doing any thing to
it, except adding a few particulars respecting the Rev.
William Graham. They must make the best of it. I have
now very little literary ambition, and am therefore reckless
as to what becomes of the address.-Upon a retrospect of
my late journey, I feel glad that I was persuaded to undertake it; though I now feel that home is the best place for
old people. Whether I shall live to take such another journey, 1 certainly cannot tell; but the probability is that my
next journey will be to that land from whose bourne no
traveller returns.  The only preparation for death which can




DEATH OF MRS. LEGRAND.              455
be effectual to give solace to the mind'is a lively faith in
Christ. If we confide implicitly in him we shall fear no
evil. All before us is dark and unknown, but our Great
Leader can conduct us safely over this Jordan. The valley
looks gloomy, but the Shepherd's voice can cheer us while
we pass through. Let us dismiss a timid, unbelieving spirit,
and be strong in the Lord and in the power of his might.
We should not look into our own hearts for comfort, but directly unto Christ. The more we trust in him, the more
we honour him.  Nothing in us or about us is more displeasing to him, than our fear or distrust of his power and
grace. He seems to say, as to his disciples of old,' Why are
ye so fearful?'' Wherefore did ye doubt?''Only believe;
all things are possible to him that believeth.'"
It is in harmony with such remarks to add here, that
during this and the following year, he was called to mourn
over several dear friends. Mrs. Paulina Le Grand departed
this life in 1843. No Christian woman in Virginia was more
widely known. Having come out of a family circle of great
wealth and extreme worldliness, during the great awakenings
-of which we have already had occasion to speak, she signalized a long life by a sincerity of Christian deportment which
made her example noted. She was a lover of good men;
she entertained strangers; she washed the saints' feet. Her
home was open to all disciples of every name; she not only
sometimes entertained many families of her friends at once,
but gave a welcome to the humblest wayfarer who needed
shelter. For months and even years she gave a home to
ministers of the Gospel.  While her personal experience was




456            DEATH OF MRS. FORMAN.
not joyful, she loved evangelical truth, and spared no pains
to promote it. Having a masculine skill and generalship in
the conduct of affairs, she extricated a large estate from embarrassment, and was able to contribute largely to good ob.
jects. Her courage was remarkable, and no instance was
ever known in which she shrank from reproving sin, even in
distinguished persons. For more than half a century she
was the friend and correspondent of Dr. Alexander. Nearly
about the same time died his elder brother, Andrew Alexander, Esq., of Lexington; a man of probity, sagacity, and
consistent life. After a brief interval, two beloved sisters
were taken away, Mrs. Ann Turner, relict of the Rev. William Turner, and Mrs. Martha Rice, wife of the Rev. Benjamin H. Rice, D. D.
DR. ALEXANDER TO MRS. GRAHAM.
"PRINCETON, Jan. 20, 1844.
C' DEAR SISTER:
"The occasions of our writing have of late been of a
sorrowful kind. Your last contained an account of the decease of -our dear sister Turner, who died in a strange land,
but surrounded by kind friends, and supported by Christian
hope and comfort. It has now become my painful duty to
inform you and other friends of the death of Anne Forman,
second daughter of our sister Martha Rice. You know that
she was married to a young clergyman in Kentucky, who
was settled in or near Versailles. She visited her parents
last spring, and brought with her a little son, a year old,
named Benjamin Rice. Though Anne had been delicate from




DEATH OF MRS. RICE.               457
childhood, her health appeared not only good, but robust,
when she was here. But five or six weeks ago she was seized
with some disease which affected her head and stomach, and
on the 11th inst., gently departed this life, having given
every evidence of being a sincere Christian. Her last words
were,'I wish to be a better Christian!' from which it
would seem that she was not aware of the nearness of her
end. Her parents, as you may suppose, are much distressed;
but while they sorrow, it is not as those who have no hope;
and they will no doubt derive spiritual benefit from this
heavy affliction."
TO THE SAME.
"PRINCETON, March 6, 1844.
" MY DEAR SISTER: —" Your last letter conveyed to us the mournful intelligence of the death of our oldest brother; and now it falls
to my lot to inform you that our youngest sister, Martna
Rice, has also been taken away from us. She gave up her
spirit into the hands of her Redeemer about two o'clock this
morning. About three weeks ago she was seized with a violent chill, followed by a high fever. Three or four days ago
her fever subsided, and we hoped that she might recover;
but a dreadful oppression of the lungs came on, owing to
what cause is not known. This difficulty of breathing continued to increase until she expired. With the fever, which
the physicians call congestive, she had also an inflammation
of the tonsils, which rendered it difficult for her to speak.
Being confined to the house by a severe attack of sore throat
24]




458              DEATH OF MRS. RICE.
with fever, I was unable to see her before yesterday morn
ing. I found her mind in a calm and comfortable state, in
the midst of bodily pain and oppression. During her whole
illness her understanding was undisturbed, and her faith was
strong. The only doubt which she expressed to me was a
fear lest her perfect peace of mind, devoid of every doubt
and fear, might be the effect of her disease. But the fever
had then left her, and the same peace and confidence con.
tinued to the last; for even when speechless, she understood
every thing; and when her husband asked her whether she
could now say that God had given her victory over death,
and requested her to signify it by raising her hand, she irnmediately did this, and soon after expired.  Her loss will be
greatly felt in the family. She will be greatly missed in the
congregation, especially among the poor and afflicted. She
was active in works of faith and labours of love. I could
not bring myself to believe that this sickness would be unto
death. I prayed often and earnestly that she might be restored to health and to her husband and children. But the
will of God was otherwise.-I have seen Dr. Rice this morning. He bears his bereavement like a Christian; his feelings
are very tender, but he bows with entire submission to this
afflictive dispensation.-Thus our family, the members of
which have been so long preserved in life, are now taken
away in rapid succession. Out of eight, three have departed
within less than six months; and it cannot be long before
the remaining five shall be summoned. O may we all be
ready! And may we be enabled to meet death with as




VIEWS OF DEATH.                459
little fear as those who have already died! Farewell. God
bless you all!
"Your affectionate brother,
"A. A."
TO THE SAME.
" PRINCETON, May 13, 1845.' We have been preserved to a good old age, and as God
has been so favourable to us thus far, we ought not to distrust him for the remaining part of our journey. We need
not be troubled about the dissolution of these frail bodies.'Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.' It is a
way which all must travel once; grace and strength for the
day we must trust Him to grant, who hath said,' I will never
leave thee, nor forsake thee.' If Christ be near to us in that
hour when heart and flesh fail, we need fear no evil. He
hath himself suffered all the bitter pains of death, and is
therefore able to sympathize with those who walk through
the gloomy valley. His people, who trust in him, are seldom
left to darkness and discouragement in that last conflict.As we shall in all probability never meet again in this world,
may we have a joyful meeting in the world to come! And
while continued here beyond the time usually allotted to
mortals, let us pray for each other daily, that we may be
counted worthy, through the grace of the Lord Jesus, to
inherit the kingdom prepared for the people of God, from
the foundation of the world!"




460                VIEWS OF DEATH.
TO THE SAME
" June 21, 1847.
"As to my own health, it is very good in the general;
though I have had several sudden and severe attacks of disease, which seems to have its seat in the stomach. The crazy
tabernacle must come down, and it matters little by what
means this end is attained. The only wonder is that it
should last so long. I have been trying of late to realize
my nearness to the eternal world; but though my judgment is fully convinced that I shall soon cease to be an inhabitant of this world, and be in an unchangeable state
of happiness or misery, my feelings are not in accordance
with my judgment. I cannot bring death near so as to apprehend the reality of the solemn circumstances in which I
stand, on the breaking brink of eternity. But perhaps it is
best that our minds should not be continually occupied with
the thoughts of death. When I attempt to think distinctly
of what my views and feelings shall be the moment after
death, I feel lost in the obscurity of the subject. I seem to
dread the awful surprise which will burst on the mind. But
my only relief is that the Great Shepherd, who accompanies
his sheep through the valley of the shadow of death, will be
their guide afterwards, or will furnish them with a convoy
of angels. We need not trouble ourselves about the particular circumstances of our future state of existence, if only
we are found among the number of Christ's sheep. For all
his people he has provided suitable mansions in his Father's
house. Some will occupy much higher places than others;




VIEWS OF DEATH.                 461
but if we are admitted into the very lowest, it will be
enough.
"I have often resolved to begin to make special preparation for an event so certain and so near; but I find I can dc
nothing towards it by my own exertions.  Dying grace is
commonly reserved for a dying hour. The best preparation
is, to be found watching and actively engaged in our Master's service. In thinking what will make death easy, it has
occurred to me, that a lively faith is all that we need.  Tc
have an humble, confident trust in Christ, will bear us up,
however the waves of Jordan may swell around us. Let us
not torment ourselves with unnecessary fears and scruples.
We must trust entirely to the mercy of God, and the merit
of Christ; and if we do so sincerely, we shall be safe. Every
letter which I write to you, of late, I think will be the last;
for considering our advanced age, it is to be expected that
one of us will soon be called away; and it cannot be long
before we shall meet in another, and I hope a better world."
TO THE SAME.
"PRINCETON, June 18, 1848.
I)DEAR SISTER:
"I am sorry to find by your letter that your health is
not as good as usual; but at our age we must expect to be
subject to many and increasing infirmities, until death comes
to release us from all the evils of our present condition.
Though death is called the king of terrors, and the last enemy, yet to the believer he is a conquered foe, or rather is
converted into a friend.  Therefore Paul, in giving an in



462                VIEWS OF DEATH.
ventory of the possessions of the Christian, places death
among the number:'For all things are yours; whether
Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are yours, and ye are Christ's, and
Christ is God's.'  And he says again,'For me to live is
Christ, and to die is gain:' having a desire to depart and be
with Christ,'which is far better.' There is much sin in indulging unbelieving and unreasonable fears of death. We
ought to place more confidence in the Captain of our salvation, who has promised never to leave nor forsake his people,
and to be with them in the valley and shadow of death.
How often do we see those who were subject to bondage all
their lives, delivered from all fear when they are laid on their
death beds. And thus, I trust, it will be with you.'Jesus
can make a dying bed feel soft as downy pillows are.' Be
determined to trust in the Lord and fear no evil. He is a
powerful, a loving, and a faithful Shepherd."
TO THE SAME.
"PRINCETON, August 7, 1849.
I" DEAR SISTER:"Yours of the 3d inst. came to hand this morning. I
am gratified to learn that your health continues so firm, at
so advanced an age. It is certainly a cause of great thankfulness. What you say of your health during the past yeai
is with some exception true in regard to myself. My general health was never so good since I was in the ministry, as
for a few years past; and I am more fleshy than in any
former period.  But in the last month I had a pretty vio



ACTIVE OLD AGE.                 463
lent attack, which, if it had not been taken in time, might
have ended in Cholera. In regard to this desolating pestilence, which is a heavy judgment on our land for the sins of
the people, our town like yours has hitherto been exempt."
Again in 1850, he writes': " My time must come soon.
If I can only be ready, it matters not whether I pore over
the inevitable event or not. Our departure will probably not
be very far apart.  May we meet in a happier world! "`
The last letter to this estimable sister, and indeed the latest
date which has come to our hands, is of June 12, 1851, and
closes a correspondence of at least fifty years. It is written
in a fair and firm hand, and is filled with lively domestic details.
We have varied from chronological exactness, and omitted certain things, in order to give these letters and extracts
in unbroken series. They evidently proceed from one who
had learnt to look death in the face, and are from first to
last a comment on the maxim, Disce more. If we had nothing else to judge by, we might suppose them to have been
penned by one who had laid aside the entire business of life,
and devoted his mind to the recluse contemplation of eternity.  But so far was this from being the case, there was no
time in his whole life in which he was more full of employment, or set about it with higher zest. His sympathy with
the world about him was uncommon. He had not ceased to
take pleasure in the affairs of the Church or the intercourse
of friends, and seemed bent on working to the last both publicly and privately. The prosperity of the institution was
* Letter to Mrs. Graham, Jan. 30, 1850.




464        CONNECTION WITH PUBLIC BODIES.
great. For part of the time the number of students was nearlt
one hundred and fifty. In 1843, the beautiful library building, reared by the munificence of Mr. Lenox, was completed.
Health prevailed in his own family, of whom five children out
of seven now surrounded him. It was by far the most serene,
if not the happiest portion of his life. It was in his view an
addition to his comfort, that two of his sons were his colleagues. The visit of a deputation from the Free Church of
Scotland, in 1843-4, greatly awakened his feelings. The
visit of the Rev. Dr. Cunningham in particular, offered an
occasion for long and interesting conference upon the state
of the Church and the methods of theological education.
Some of the enterprises to which he had adhered in their
darker hour, such as the Foreign Missions of our Church, and
the colonization of the Free Blacks, began to show signs of
eminent success. In 1849, a benevolent Episcopalian of the
South, in founding a seminary in Liberia, requested that it
might be called the "Alexander High School; " adding, " to
him they are indebted; for but for said article [proposing
the plan] this donation would not have have been made, and
I trust it will in due time grow into a college bearing'the
same name.":
It is generally known that the various benevolent schemes
of the Presbyterian Church are conducted by large commissions of clergymen and laymen, which are denominated
Boards. These are elected from time to time by the General
Assembly. Dr. Alexander was from their origin an important member of these bodies. Of the Standing Committee of
Quoted in a letter of Elliott Cresson to Dr. Alexander, April 20, 1849.




PUBLIC BODIES.                465
Missions he was chosen a member in 1807; and continued
in this and in the Board of Missions which grew out of it
until his death. As long as he remained in Philadelphia he
met constantly with the Committee, and sometimes went
from Princeton afterwards for the same purpose. He was a
member of the Board of Education, from the beginning. We
have elsewhere spoken of his interest in the Board of Foreign
3Missions. At the first meeting of the Western Missionary
Society, which preceded the Board, he was elected a VicePresident. In 1837 he was chosen a member of the Board,
and remained such as long as he lived. "He was punctual,"
says the i}on. Walter Lowrie, "in his attendance at the
meetings; and from his minute knowledge of all its operations
was a most useful and influential member. After the death
of Dr. Miller, he was on the 6th of May, 1850, elected President of the Board, and was such until the time of his
death." He was likewise President of the Board of Publication from its origin, was constantly invited to their counsels, and prepared a number of their works.
In addition to these strictly Presbyterian schemes, he
was greatly interested in the American Sunday School
Union, the American Bible Society, and the American
Tract Society. For the first named he furnished several
valuable publications. In regard to the Tract Society his
affection and zeal never abated. For a time he was a member of their Publishing Committee; he wrote some of their
smaller publications, and was a frequent contributor to the
American Messenger; in which, it is believed, his very last
communication for the press appeared.  One of the closing




466              WRITING IN OLD AGE.
acts of his life was to give a sum to send one of their small
libraries to a destitute pastor. He was particularly solicitous to extend their circulation of volumes, and said, late in
life: "I reflect on no part of my life with more satisfaction
than any little agency I have had in encouraging and promoting the Society's volume circulation. I do consider the
success of this enterprise as intimately connected with the
prosperity of vital scriptural piety in our land; not in any
one church, but in all evangelical churches, and beyond them
all, by conveying a sound and practical knowledge of the Gospel to multitudes who enjoy no public means of grace, or
have not attended on them. If I could do any thing more
to urge on this blessed work which has been so auspiciously
commenced, I would cordially lend my aid." Again he says,
under a later date: "The success of the volume circulation
gladdens my heart every time I think of it; and I sincerely
wish that, instead of twenty volumes, you had a hundred in
circulation."
It is proper that we should add something of the lit
erary labours of this period. He was accustomed to say
that he wrote more than in any previous part of his life.
Indeed it was his solace, and the pen was continually in his
hand. This is the more surprising, as for some of his closing
years, he scarcely made any use of one eye, and was frequently threatened in the other. Yet when he was not hurried,
his manuscript character was round, clear and bold; though
he never used desk or table, but held the paper before him,
on a wide book or port-folio.
His volume entitled " Thoughts on Religious Experience,'




REVIEWS.                     467
already mentioned, appeared as a separate work in 1840. It
contains the results of his matured thinking upon the inward
work of grace, and has been extensively useful. No one of
his writings more fully reveals his own opinions and feelings
upon the rise and progress of godliness in the soul.  The
work was adopted by the Presbyterian Board of Publication,
and in 1853 appeared in a German translation.
In 1841, he reviewed the Works of Dr. Chalmers, for
whom he cherished the greatest respect, but from whom he
was constrained to differ on some points of metaphysical theology. Especially he objects, as McCosh has since done, to
Chalmers's opinion, that morality can be ascribed to no feeling or emotion unless it be the consequence of volition, or
somehow connected with volition.:-" He also wrote, as he
had often done before, on the " Religious Instruction of the
Negroes:" He likewise reviewed Dr. Hetherington's History
of the Westminster Assembly.t  He contributed a warm
and instructive article in behalf of American Colonization, in which he reiterates his opinion thus: " We do believe, that it is the design of a wise and benignant Providence
to make Liberia the asylum of the whole African race now
dispersed over this continent and the West India islands.
It is our sincere persuasion, that no event which has occurred
in the world since the commencement of the nineteenth century, is at all equal in real importance to the successful establishment of this little colony."  He furnished reviews of
* Princeton Review, 1841, p. 30, ff. The article is only in part from his
pen.
t Princeton Review, 1843, pm. 30-41 ~ and pp. 561-587.




468                    REVIEWS.
Dr. Reid's " History of the Presbyterian Church in Ireland;'
and of the " Debate on Baptism'" between Dr. Rice and Al.
exander Campbell.: He wrote and published at some length
on the Life of Dean Mlilner, whom he greatly admired, on
Struther's History of the Relief Church in Scotland, and on
the collected works of Andrew Fuller.t The Horae Apocalypticae of Elliott drew from him a long and careful. dissertation; and he wrote an extended review of Dr. Davidson's
valuable History. of Kentucky.+  The publication of Chalmers's Sketches of Mental and Moral Philosephy urged him
to appear again in the way of candid and decided animadversion on some points, mingled with hearty praise and admiration.~  He gave a notice of the " Free Church Pulpit,"
a Life of Robert Blair, and a discussion of Free Communion,
as against the rigid view of the Baptists; which, if we mistake not, closed his labours in the Princeton Review. H Meanwhile he was preparing and at length published his volumes on
the "' History of the Log College," and the " History of Af
rican Colonization;" the latter being a volume of 603 octavo
pages. During this time, there was scarcely a week in which
he did not contribute some paper to the religious journals.
No one accustomed to consider the progress of literary
performances can run over this list of publications, without
some astonishment, that they should have proceeded from
* Princeton Review, 1844, pp. 57, 199, 531
f Princeton Review, 1845, p. 191, and 1846, pp. 26, and 547.
Princeton Review, 1847, pp. 141, and 4F0.
i 1848, p. 529, if.
i 1849, p. 82, and 1850, pp 185, 557.




AUTHORSHIP.                  469
one who was nearly approaching fourscore; especially when
on examination they are found to betray no marks of senility, but to furnish instances of his most acute reasoning
powers and most ardent emotion. But in truth these were
but a small portion of his labours with the pen, during his
last ten years. Not to mention new lectures on the branches
which he had long taught, he was making incursions into
new  fields.  Among the manuscripts which remain are
many of this period, on important subjects, and some which
were produced during the very last year of his life. Certain
of these are on the Composition and Delivery of Sermons.
He drew out the careful plan of a work on the Duties and
Consolations of the Christian, and began to fill up the outline, at moments of leisure; this seems to have been one of
his last employments. He completed his volume on Moral
Science, which was published soon after his decease, and
which leaves its testimony to the unimpaired vigour of his
understanding. He projected, and carried out through some
hundreds of pages, a work on Patristical Theology, intended to exhibit the opinions of the Fathers, on all leading
points in divinity.  It is a contribution to what the Germans call Dogmengeschichte.  He began a Memoir of the
Rev. William Graham, to whom his grateful affection seemed always ready to turn, as long as he lived. This fills a
small quarto, and is nearly complete. He had for years been
gathering materials for a History of the Presbyterian Church
in Virginia; and from time to time was engaged in entering
in an immense folio, biographical sketches of distinguished
American clergymen, and alumni of the College of New Jer



470              LABOURS IN OLD AGE.
sey, To these must be added the whole of those autobio.
graphical sketches, filling numerous volumes, to which we are
indebted for the earlier portions of our narrative. These do
not extend further than the year 1810. They are interspersed with memoirs of almost every distinguished minister
of his acquaintance; to which indeed their extraordinary extent is to be ascribed. But for the express inhibition of their
author, they should have been made public in their original
shape. But nothing more evinces his untiring diligence, and
the spring of his enterprise, than the fact that when, in 1851,
the chair of Church Government was left vacant, he not only
assumed the duties of this department, but immediately addressed himself to the work of preparing a course of lectures.
We have before us his fair and sightly manuscript, of sixty.
three large folio pages, on "Church Polity and Discipline."
It was evidently broken off by his last illness, and ends with
an unfinished sentence, on the independency of churches.
This was in September, 1851.
In this same lapse of time he wrote numerous sermons,
and preached upon an average once every Lord's Day. He
likewise corresponded with friends, answering perpetually recurring queries on important points connected with religion
and the Church. The routine of his Seminary appointments
was followed with the punctuality and much of the vivacity
of former years. What was wanting of earlier grace and
sprightliness was more than replaced by the dignity and
wisdom of age. At no time did he carry more weight among
his attached pupils than in these years of venerable decline.
In May, 1849, the resignation of Dr. Miller, which he had




MRS. DUNCAN.                 4'71
sought two yeays earlier, was finally accepted. It was a
touching sight to behold the forms of himself and his aged
colleague on those occasions when they appeared together at
the head of their students. Many an observer was prompted
to exclaim, " The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be
found in the way of righteousness! "
It was during the year in which he died, that Mrs. Mary
Lundie Duncan, of Scotland, visited Princeton.  "The
hours passed in Princeton," says this Christian lady, " amid
the courtesies and hospitalities of the venerable Dr. Alexander, are among the hoarded gems of memory. A powerful
interest hangs around that aged man, so true of heart, so
distinct of mind, so affable of manners. He is full of Christian sympathies, and ready to communicate, so that you
require but to put an inquiry and he flows out, whether the
subject be of sixty years since or of yesterday, and it is your
own faiult if you are not the wiser for his communings.
Perhaps others may have remarked, what added much to the
interest that cleaves to this excellent gentleman-his strong
resemblance to Wilberforce. Though much more bulky, yet
the figure is like that of a twin brother. His manner of
sitting in his easy chair, of speaking, of smiling, and above
all his ready way of giving information, and his edifying
Christian remarks, showed a resemblance both in the mould
and in the jewel within." The resemblance in the points
mentioned has been noted by others, and will not fail to be
suggested to any who examine the striking statue of Wilberforce, in Westminster Abbey. But we ought not to
withhold a marginal note of Mrs. Duncan's, upon the above




472              DR. GREEN-DR. DOD.
paragraph. " How touchingly," she adds, " are these remem.
brances deepened in pathos, by the tidings just arrived, that
the Patriarch is with Abraham, and Moses, and all the
prophets, in glory. It is true he has reached the consummation of his faith and hope, but then his family have lost him
-his students have lost him. Princeton will see his face no
more. The Church will never again appeal to his wisdom
and experience.  America must number him  with her
patriots, and heroes, and divines, who have departed-and I,
a passing stranger, while I prize the more the privilege of
having seen him, feel but the more keenly that the anticipated'passing away' has begun."':~
The death of numerous distant friends has been recorded;
but we have to mention some nearer home, which cast a
heavy shade over the society of Princeton, One of these
was the decease of the Rev. Albert B. Dod, D. D., Professor
of Mathematics in the College of New Jersey; a man whose
brilliant genius, social charms and high promise caused his
loss to be keenly and widely felt. In 1848, the Rev. Ashbel
Green, D. D., late President of the College, departed this
life. His remains were placed among the sepulchres of the
great presidents and divines in the Princeton cemetery.
Between him and Dr. Alexander, who was his junior by
about ten years, there existed a strong and unbroken Christian attachment. But the event which more than all others
in life made old age significant, was the departure of the
Rev. Dr. Miller, on the 7th of January, 1850.
* "America as I Found it. By the mother of Mary Lundie Duncan."
varters, pp. 10)7-8




DEATH OF DR. MILLER.              473
Although the public has reason to expect a memoir of
this venerable servant of Christ, we cannot refrain at this
point from adding something to what we have already said
concerning his character. His excellencies were admitted
widely in the church, for he was known throughout our own
country and in foreign lands. His publications were numerous, and were to a large extent vindications of the doctrine and polity of the Church which he loved. No Presbyterian is ignorant of the promptitude, courage and address
with which he came forward on more than one occasion, when
what he deemed important truth was assailed. As a writer
he was remarkable for the purity and perspicuity of his
style, and the absence of all meretricious ornament. He
was a great reader, and was accustomed to enrich his works
with numerous and apt citations from other authors. As an
instructor, he was laborious, full and lucid. For six and
thirty years he occupied the chair of Ecclesiastical History
and Church Government; with a respect from all concerned,
which augmented with his age.
It is impossible to remember Dr. Miller, without thinking
of him as a Christian gentleman. Without an approach to
stiffness, he was urbane and elegant in all the forms of the
best society, with which indeed he had always mingled. He
was cheerful and cordial in his greetings, lively in conversation, and fond of social intercourse. It was to this that
the founding and continuance of a clerical association was
due, in which he and his ministerial friends met at one
another's houses during many years. He was the charm of
mixed companies; being rich in topics of discourse, and




474                   DR. MILLER.
happy beyond most men in apposite anecdote and historical
reminiscence. Indeed we have never known any one who
could give such magical effect to little ebullitions of humour,
which repeated by the lips of others seemed to lose all their
aroma. But nothing so marked his character as his evangelical piety. It was the opinion of his colleague, that in
this Dr. Miller steadily grew, till the very last. He loved
the cause of his Master, and was unwearied in his endeavours
to promote it. The work of preaching the Gospel was his
delight. Unsatisfied with the opportunities afforded by the
Seminary Chapel, the College and the village church, he
readily complied with every invitation from abroad, and until
extreme old age was accustomed to go to the neighbouring
congregations on every side, and unsought to bestow those
labours which were always welcome and edifying.
We have already spoken of the inviolable sacredness of
fraternal regard which for nearly forty years subsisted between him and his colleague.  During this long period the
thread of their lives had been entwined together, with increasing closeness. They were mutual advisers and confidential friends, and rejoiced in each other's progress, happiness.
and acceptance with the church. Their differences of opinion
which were slight and few, were matters for amicable repartee,
but never caused them even for an hour to draw in different
directions; no one ever dreamed of such a thing as a factior
for one or the other. It was most natural, therefore, that Di
Alexander should look with sadness upon the tokens of decline in his respected brother. For some months Dr. Miller
had been subject to attacks of disease, and at length was en



DR. MILLER.                  475
tirely confined to his house.  His decline, however, was
denoted more by great debility than by severe pain. Amidst
it all, he was calm and believing. Foreseeing his departure
with an unerring eye, he was resolute in his assertion of all
the truths which he had taught, and humbly confident in his
expressions of hope in Jesus Christ. Dr. Alexander thus
briefly records his decease.  "Dr. Miller's health had been
declining for several months. He had scarcely any disease,
except the decay of old age. By degrees he sunk, until the
seventh of this month, when he gave up his spirit to God
who gave it. He was calm and comfortable in mind during his
whole confinement. He expressed no very lively feelings, but
was troubled with no fears or doubts. A day or two before
his death, I asked him whether any dark cloud at any time
came over his mind; he replied,'None whatever.' " *
Among all who surrounded his grave, there was none
whose mind was more deeply solemn than his aged colleague,
who pronounced a simple but touching funeral discourse. It
is much to be regretted that no full report of this was ever
made. The notes which exist among his papers are no more
than hints for the aid of memory: yet even these fragments
we feel it to be duty to subjoin in part. A large portion is
manifestly lost.  The text was Hebrews xi. 13; " These all
died in faith," &c.
"The Reverend Dr. Miller was born in the town of
Dover, in the State of Delaware. His father was the pastor
of a Presbyterian church in that place, then flourishing, but
of late years almost extinct. His early education was ob* Letter to Mrs. Graham, Jan. 30, 1850.




476                   DR. MILLER.
tained under the special tuition of his father. In this best
of all schools he was prepared to enter college; and when of
suitable age he resorted to the University of Pennsylvania,
where in due time he was graduated. He had selected the
ministry of the Gospel as his profession; impelled, we have
no doubt, by a sincere desire to glorify God and do good to
men; but the speaker has no particular acquaintance with
the early religious exercises of the deceased." Here occurs
a chasm. —" Being always careful in his preparations, and
possessing a neat and perspicuous style and a graceful elocution, he continually grew in popularity; and as his preaching was truly evangelical, it was highly acceptable to serious
Christians.  At an age much earlier than usual, he was
honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity, by one of
the eastern Colleges; a distinction which he afterwards received from other sources; as well as recently that of Doctor
of Laws.  During twenty years he continued as a pastor in
the city of New-York. Before the decease of Dr. Rodgers,
the Rutgers-street church was separated from the Collegiate
church, and called Dr. Milledoler; and at the decease of Dr.
Rodgers the Collegiate church was divided into the Wallstreet and the Brick church.  Of the former Dr. Miller
became the pastor, and laboured acceptably among that
people, until in the spring of 1813 he was chosen Professor
of Ecclesiastical History and Church Government, in the
Theological Seminary at this place; and in the autumn of
the same year, he entered upon the duties of his office.
"It may be remarked, that no man in the Church had
been more zealous and active in founding this Institution,




DR. MILLER.                  477
than Dr. Miller. He and Dr. Green may more properly be
considered its founders than any other persons. Others aided
by their counsels and occasional exertions, but these two
devoted themselves with untiring zeal to the prosecution of
the object, and had the pleasure of seeing their exertions
crowned with success. At this time, Dr. Miller, so far as I
know, was not thought of as a professor; and I am persuaded the thought was entirely foreign from his own mind.
In connection with this Institution he has continued until the
day of his death.
" Besides labouring in his appropriate vocation, he has
very frequently preached in this and the neighbouring
churches; and I think I may say, that I never knew a
minister, who delighted more in preaching the Gospel. As
he advanced in life, it appeared to his friends that his
preaching became more spiritual and evangelical. Even to
the time when the decay of physical strength confined him
to the house, he sought opportunities of delivering the Gospel message to the congregations in the vicinity. As to his
writings, which are numerous, and his professional labours, I
need not speak. Of his ability, learning and fidelity, there
are hundreds of witnesses scattered over the land."
" The character of our deceased friend and brother may
be thus summed up. In all the private and domestic relations of life he was exemplary.-As a neighbour he was liind
and courteous to all, and exactly just in his dealings. As a
minister he was faithful and evangelical, and was accustomed
to present the truths of the Gospel in a manner so distinct
and methodical, that his discourses could not only be under



478                  Olt. MILLER.
stood with ease, but readily remembered by the attentive
hearer.-As a member of church judicatories, he was an
able advocate for [truth], a warm friend to experimentai
and practical piety, and of course a friend of revivals. No
member of our Church has done more to explain and defend
her doctrines than our deceased brother.  With his colleagues he was uniformly cordial; and I have never known
a man more entirely free from vainglory, envy, andjealousy.
To the students under his care he was paternal and affectionate."
We cannot more appropriately close what relates to the
union of these two men, than by giving insertion to an extract from a letter from Dr. Miller, to the Rev. Henry A.
Boardman, D. D., of Philadelphia. It has a pathos which
will go to many a heart.
"PRINCETON, Feb. 28, 1849.
"I thank you, my dear brother, for the kind expressions
which you employ on the prospect of my retiring from office.
I am, indeed, nearly worn out.  Far advanced in my
eightieth year, I have outlived all my relatives, and all my
own expectations, and am compassed about with so many
infirmities, that I am persuaded a longer continuance in
office would be in no respect just, either to the Seminary or
myself. Yet in looking forward to retirement from official
labour, and especially to that day which is near at hand,
when I must'put off this tabernacle,' I desire to bless God
for the humble hope which I am permitted to entertain, that
I have so good a home to go to, where there will be no
mnore infirmity, and especially no more sin; but perfect




DR. MILLER.                 479
union and conformity to Him who, though he was rich, for
our sakes became poor, that we through his poverty might
be rich.
C I desire to unite with you, my dear brother, in thanksgiving to the Great Head of the Church, that our beloved
Seminary has been made so useful to our Zion, by training
so large a portion of our ministry under the same teachers;
and I hope I have some sincere gratitude that I have been
permitted to occupy a place, and take some humble part in
this hallowed work. But I can truly say that the sentiment
which most strongly and prominently occupies my mind, is
that of thankfulness that the Lord has been pleased to unite
me with colleagues so wise, so faithful, so much superior
to myself, and so eminently adapted to be a blessing to the
Church. I consider it as one of the greatest blessings of
my life to be united with such men, and pre-eminently with
my senior colleague, whose wisdom, prudence, learning, and
peculiar piety have served as an aid and guide to myself, as
well as to others. I desire to leave it on record for the eye
of intimate friendship, that in my own estimation my union
with these beloved men has been the means of adding to my
own respectability and my own usefulness far more than I
could ever, humanly speaking, have attained, either alone or
in association with almost any other men. I desire especially to feel thankful that I ever saw the face of my venerated senior colleague. He has been for thirty-six years, to
me a counsellor, a guide, a prop, and a stay, under God, to
a degree which it would not be easy for me to estimate or
acknowledge.




480                 LAST SYNOD.
"The union in our Faculty has been complete. And
the solid basis of the whole has been a perfect agreement on
the part of all of us in an honest subscription to our doctrinal formularies. There has been no discrepance-no pulling
in different directions here.
"Hoping to see you in a few days, I am, my dear sir,
your friend and brother in Christian bonds.
" SAMUEL MILLER."
There were two of his last public appearances away from
home, which seem to deserve a record from us. The first of
these concerns the meeting of the Synod of New Jersey at
Elizabethtown in 1850.'DR. MAGIE TO JAMES W. ALEXANDER.
-" Jan. 20, 1854.
"MY DEAR SIR:
" You ask me for some account of your father's last visit
to Elizabethtown; and with sincere pleasure I comply with
your request. It was to attend the meeting of the Synod
of New Jersey, just one year before that held in Princeton,
during the sessions of which the Lord permitted him to enter
upon his final rest. Many of us never expected another
opportunity of looking upon his beloved face, or listening to
his cheering and animating voice.
" A few months before, he had spent a Sabbath with my
people, and preached a sermon to youth, which is still remembered and spoken of with the deepest interest. We
then considered it doubtful whether he should be able to
attend the meeting of Synod. Still on the appointed day he




ELIZABETHTOWN,.               481
was here, and appeared to be in quite good health and spirits
On both these occasions he was an inmate of my family, and
had I leisure, I should love to speak of his pleasant intercourse with us, and especially of the calm, earnest, and comprehensive prayers he offered for me and mine. His presence
seemed to make our house like Ca field which the Lord has
blessed.' As the meetings of Synod were progressing, I invited a number of his former students to meet him at my
table. We enjoyed these interviews, and he evidently enjoyed them too. Now and then he indulged a little in the
quiet humour which always distinguished him, and which
added zest and life to his conversation. But every thing was
seasoned with grace.
" It was, however, of his appearance in the Synod that
I intended chiefly to speak. There' he was the same wise,
kind, unobtrusive man he ever was in such bodies, neither
putting himself forward to mingle in every little debate, nor
declining to give his opinion when the nature of the business
required it. I have often admired his conduct in this respect, and could wish it had more imitators. Dr. Alexander
was not one of those who conclude that nothing is well done
which they have not had the shaping of.
"You know it is the custom of our Synod to devote one
evening to public prayer and exhortation; and I was very
desirous that your father should make one of the addresses.
Accordingly as Chairman of the Committee of Arrangements,
I mentioned the matter to him. At first he said,' I am too
old, you must select some other person.' I replied —' You see,
sir, that a large proportion of the ministers of the Synod




482                  LAST SYNOD.
have been your pupils, and this may be the last time that
they will ever have the privilege of listening to your voice.
He seemed struck with the suggestion, but said nothing
farther. In the evening he made his address, and though he
seemed feeble at first, his words had the same life and power
with those which we had often heard in his earlier days. It
was such a strain of affectionate counsel as only a man like
him could give. He commenced with a reference to the fact,
that he found himself standing in the presence of many who
had once been his beloved pupils; and as he went on to
urge us to quit; ourselves like men, for God, and the great
interests of his kingdom, he appeared to be talking to us as
from the very gates of the celestial city. It is scarcely too
much to say, that we beheld his face as if it had been the
face of an angel. His heart was melted, and our hearts were
melted likewise.
"Even making some abatement for the mingled feelings
of veneration and love with which we regarded him, I must
say, it was one of his very best efforts. He felt evidently
that it was the last time. Every thing in his manner, his
looks, and the tones of his voice, as well as in the words he
uttered, indicated that he stood on the very verge of heaven,
and was fully ready to say, I have fought a good fight, I
have finished my course, I have kept the faith; henceforth
there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the
Lord the righteous Judge shall give me at that (lay. And
it was the last time.  Most of us saw his face no mole.
" Great and good man! May his mantle, as well as that
of the beloved Miller, fall on all our rising ministry! Then




LAST SERMON ABROAD).             483
would Zion arise and shine, her light being come, and the
glory of the Lord risen upon her.' Very truly and affectionately yours,
" DAVID MAGIE."
The other visit was to the church in South Trenton,
which he had regarded with much interest, as the pastor had
been one of his pupils. From this friend we have derived
the statement which follows. It was a beautiful summer
day, July 27, 1851, and a communion Sabbath. As the
church-edifice was incomplete, the services took place in the
Mercer Court House. Dr. Alexander preached on that occasion to the edification and delight of all who heard him,
and also rendered most valuable assistance at the table. He
was apprehensive lest he might be seized with a faintness, to
which he had been subject at times, but nothing of the kind
occurred. The sermon was rich in Bible truth and Christian
experience, and in manner he was more than usually animated, solemn and impressive, to the very close. In the
afternoon he made an address to the Sabbath School. The
room was crowded almost to suffocation. His venerable appearance, penetrating eye, silvery locks and tremulous voice,
all had a tendency to increase the interest which all present,
from the oldest to the youngest, felt in the distinguished
speaker, as in a serious but familiar manner he commenced
by saying: "In a hundred years, every one who hears me
now will be in heaven or in hell!.....   This is the last
time I expect to address you. You will probably never see
me again. But you will remember what I tell you long after




484          LAST ADDRESS TO CHILDREN.
I am dead and gone. You will remember that an old man
addressed you on this occasion. When a little boy, only five
or six years old, I remember hearing an old man preach the
Gospel, just as you hear me now. I remember how gray his
hair was, and how old he looked, and how he was dressed.
And I never can forget the text that he preached from. It
was these words:'If any man love not the Lord Jesus
Christ, let him be anathema maranatha.' I did not then
know the meaning of these hard words, but the minister went
on to explain them, and said that if we did not love the
Lord Jesus Christ, we should all be accursed of God and devoted to destruction. And this I repeat in your hearing
this day, my young friends. If you do not love the Saviour
you will be destroyed. You can never enjoy his favour and
blessing unless you love him with all your hearts, and do
whatsoever he has commanded you. Remember it is an old
man that tells you so-on the authority of the Word of
God. When you go home, write it down that on this, July
27, A. D. 1851, Dr. Alexander, an old man, addressed the
Sunday School, and said,'If any man love not the Lord
Jesus Christ, let him be anathema maranatha.' Remember
it is an old man that tells you so.' These are a few of the
words, and a very imperfect sketch at best of what fell from
his lips on that occasion, which can never be forgotten by
the hundreds of children and youth; together with their
teachers, who heard him. Even the youngest child had its
eyes fastened on him to the last, drinking in the words which
he spake, while all listened with breathless attention to this
farewell address.




TRAITS OF OLD AGE.                48 
"This I believe was the last time this venerable man evei
preached the Gospel out of Princeton, and it was a good
day's work.  How faithfully that work was performed, how
full of holy zeal for his Master and of love to the souls of
his fellow-men, there are multitudes of living witnesses in our
midst who can testify, some of whom we humbly hope shall
rise up in the judgment and call him blessed."
Our labours concerning the events of Dr. Alexander's
active life are now brought to a close. But before we approach the scenes of the termination, it may be allowed us
to recur for a little to the general aspect of his declining
years. In person he was certainly much changed, but not
in the way which gives painful indication of infirmity. As
we have found him repeatedly saying in his letters, he was
enjoying the sense of health, more than in his years of prime.
His body was fuller, and his eye had not waxed dim. When
he chose it, which was rarely, he was competent to extraordinary exertion. His hearing was acute to the last, and
with the aid of glasses he used his sight without complaint.
His love of children, of family chat, of visits from friends,
of psalmody, and of the daily journals, was undiminished.
As he walked home from an evening service, he said to one
of his family, whom he almost outstripped in the rapidity of
his step, " I begin to think there is a literality in that saying of the prophet Isaiah, xl. 30,' But they that wait on
the Lord shall renew their strength.'"  On the day of his entering his seventy-eighth year, he visited the house of his eldest
son, played gaily with the children, and seemed as alert and
keen as in his best days.  His attention to his grandchildren




486                HAPPY DECLINE.
was remarkable.  They clambered upon his knee as freely
as their parents had done before them, were instructed by
his drawings and his tales, and seemed to give him unmingled delight. He often prayed over them, laying on
them his hands in benediction.
It was almost a daily remark in the house, that these
were his best days, even in natural things, and that he
never had so vivid an enjoyment of life. Such was his own
delightful admission.' Old age," said he, "is not an unpleasant part of life, where health and piety are possessed.""
A host of physical evils which had beset him in earlier days,
had now been mercifully removed. His simple nourishment
was enjoyed without rule or scruple, and the morbid vigils
which once distressed him gave place to balmy sleep. It
was apparent to every one that he was in higher spirits, even
if sometimes his alternations of depressed feeling would return. Occasionally he would break out in conversation with
all the exuberance and glee of his youth; but the characteristic of his temper was a benignant serenity. From our
earliest recollections, he had been accustomed to sit and
muse in the evening twilight, often prolonging these hours
far beyond the time when lights are usually demanded.
These moments, though solemn, appeared to be pleasurable.
In these he pursued his most fruitful trains of thought.
As he grew older, this solitary exercise was more frequent
and protracted; and in no instance did it seenl to merge
into any thing like slumber. It was a period to be gratefully remembered, as one of singular peace.
* Letter to Mrs. Graham, August 15, 185(L




PERSISTENT LABOUR.               487
From what has been extracted from his correspondence,
it may be gathered that he was continually meditating on
his approaching departure; but this gave no sombre colouring to his manner or his words. Though he never spoke,
except by incidental allusion, of his personal experience, it
was too evident to admit of doubt, that his countenance was
often radiant with uncommon spiritual joys. It broke out in
his family prayers, in his singing of psalms and hymns,
which he continued in the domestic service till the very last,
and especially in his sermons and addresses at the Lord's
Table.
Old age never seemed to occur to him as affording a motive to relax in labour. His principle was, that the faculties
were to be kept in vigour by perpetual use. The same had
once been expressed to him by his friend Dr. Rice: " As far
as my observation goes, there are two errors to which aged
men are exposed. One is, of holding on, and refusing to
admit that they are old. We have seen some instances of
this. The other is precisely opposite. It is allowing themselves to grow prematurely old. Failing to exercise their
faculties, they become rusty and move like an old door whose
hinges are never oiled. I have no doubt about the fact, that
when the organs through which the mind acts, fail, mental
imbecility ensues. But I am equally certain, that ceasing
to exert Cur faculties greatly impairs their strength. And I
am convinced that when a man, whose life has been very active, retires, he very soon sinks into second childhood.":-;
The opinion here advanced was one which Dr. Alexander
cherished, often uttered, and persistently acted on; with an
*Letter of Dr. John H. Rice, January 8, 1830.




488                  RESOLIUTION.
entire success which seems to us instructive. His own words
express somewhat characteristically the temper of his mind
in regard to public duty; it was only a few months before
his death, that he thus wrote.
DR. ALEXANDER TO THE REV. DR. PLUMER.
"PPRINCETON, April 16, 1851.
"REVEREND AND DEAR SIR:" To relieve your mind from all uneasiness respecting the expression in my letter, about not' continuing much
longer to be a professor,' I would inform you, that on this
day week I expect to enter on my eightieth year; and of
course I cannot expect to'continue here much longer.' I
have no intention of resigning, while my health is good, and
my mind sound. If I should be seized with paralysis, or
some other disease which would entirely disqualify me for
performing the duties of my office, I might deem it expedient to resign; but it is my general purpose and hope, to
die in the harness. My health and spirits were never better
than at present; although the excitability of my nervous
system occasions seasons of depression and uneasy feeling,
from the physical state. All I want is a stronger faith.
This I hope I shall receive in the hour of need, in answer to
many prayers. And you could not gratify me more than by
your declared purpose to remember me in your prayers.
"With kind regards to Mrs. Plumer and your daughters,
I remain very truly yours, &c.
" A. A."




EMPLOYMENTS.                 489
During this time he very much ceased to go abroad, and
confined himself most of the day to his study. Here, however, he was to be found neither idle nor resting, but
generally engaged in study, and to an extraordinary extent
in writing. There was scarcely a new woik of interest in
any of his chosen departments, which he did not peruse.
There was no person of our acquaintance who kept himself
more abreast of the literature which regards the Millennarian
and the Geological controversies. On all such topics his conversation was as flowing and as judicious as in former days.
What is most worthy of mention is, that no one discovered
or suspected the slightest decay of the mental powers. On
every subject to which he applied his mind, he manifested
not only soundness but quickness. Though he sometimes
complained of some difficulty in remembering names, his
friends remarked that he was annoyed by the same many
years before. It was observed with wonder by all his family,
that Providence seemed to have given him full exemption
from the common weaknesses of old age.
At the stroke of the bell, he might be seen without fail,
issuing from his study door, and going across the small space
which divided the Seminary from his grounds; much bent,
and with eyes turned to the ground, as he paced slowly on,
wrapped in his cloak and with his profuse silver locks waving
in the windc; but often, as if at some sudden dash of
thought, he would quicken his steps almost to running, and
ascend the threshold with alacrity. This was a peculiarity
of his motion all his life. His children always knew his
whereabout, by the vivacity of his changes, and used to




490               PUBLIC SERVICES.
say jocosely that he never closed or opened a door softly, and
always ran up stairs. With his manuscript rolled up in his
hand, he took the chair, and after a short and pertinent
prayer, began his instructions. They were always such as
kept his pupils in wakeful attention, and so far as we know
were not less acceptable than those of his younger life.
It has been said that he continued to preach.  That he
should have done this with so much pleasure to himself and
so little abatement of interest in his audiences, is not a little
surprising; especially when we consider the bodily changes
which he had sustained.. His voice remained clear, and
though tending to play too much among the upper notes of
the register, had no weakness; and notwithstanding the
total loss of teeth his articulation was perfect. He read
from his manuscript more than in his middle life; but often
threw in new matter, and almost always closed with an
extemporaneous application. The signal for this was the
sudden throwing up of the spectacles upon his forehead; and
he would then enchain the attention and control the feelings
of the assembly in a manner which sometimes reminded them
of his best efforts. At the Sunday afternoon Conference, he
still loved to indulge his talent for original and animated
remark; we suppose there was no one of his intellectual
efforts which abodo more in its pristine vigour.
No observation was more common than that Dr. Alexander was unlike most old men, in his tolerance for the changes
of the day. If a new scheme of any promise was on foot,
he was really more inclined to listen and to favour, than
most younger men.  The passing events of the neighbour



BENIGNITY.                  491
ho,,d and the country awakened his inquisitive interest. In
this he has strikingly reminded us of Chancellor Kent. One
reason for this was his persevering habit of learning all that
public journals could convey. Another reason may be found
in his almost total exemption from what may be called the
pride of years. He was in no such sense a laudator temporis acti, as that he undervalued or disparaged contemporary
men and things. We have no recollection of ever hearing
him hold up former generations of ministers as models, or
lauding the works and methods of his youth, or complaining
of deterioration in preaching. He was sanguine in his hopes
for both Church and country, and favourable even to a fault
in regard to the performances of junior brethren. Every one
was welcome to his door; and many are the instances in
which he has spent an hour in lively conversation with some
itinerant chapmait o0 agent, whom most would regard as a
nuisance; but from whom he always contrived to learn
something.
On a former page we have employed a word which was
often on his lips, and which more than all others denotes the
blessedness of his Christian evening; it was Peace. Sometimes it seemed to be'perfect peace.' No cloud is known
to have darkened his prospect for years, in regard to his personal acceptance with God. And though his prayers and
discourses more than his common talk were the vehicle of
his joyful thoughts, it was a pleasure to all who were near
him to observe how he had outlived and thrown off one care
and anxiety after another, until he stood almost inprocinctu,
stript and ready, for the last conflict. This was not the less




4,92                    PEACE.
edifying or delightful, for being accompanied with a serene
and healthful interest in all the concerns of his family and
his calling; and it seems incredible that any one could pass
through a long period of decline with less burden to others
or less exaction from them on the score of infirmity or years.
After all, we feel how impossible it is by any report of ours
to convey an adequate impression of this truly happy and
beautiful old age.




CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH.
1851.
ILLNESS-LAST HOURS-DEATTH.
IT has been already said that the months immediately pre.
ceding his last illness were marked with unusual bodily
comfort. He was alert and cheerful, and said that he never
felt better. The last sermon that he ever preached was delivered to the students in the Seminary Chapel, on the 7th of
September, from the words, Isaiah 54: 13, " All thy children
shall be taught of God."  The Lord's Supper was administered in the First Church of Princeton on the 14th of September; on which occasion he made an address to the communicants. This was his last public service. In the afternoon he was present at the Conference in the Seminary. The
subject treated was the Sacraments, considered as Means of
Grace. Feeling slightly indisposed he at first declined to
offer any remarks; but after Dr. Hodge had spoken, he added
a few words. The summer heat of that year was remarkably extended into the month of September, and, in his own
apprehension, predisposed him to disease.




494                   ILLNESS.
About the 18th of September he began to be more indisposed, but for a number of days only in a slight degree; and
he continued to attend his classes. On Sunday, the 21st, he
would have gone to the regular service in the Chapel, but
was dissuaded from it by his family. He seemed exceedingly reluctant to omit his lectures, and even after becoming too
unwell to leave the house, dictated the syllabus of a lecture
on Mental Philosophy.
About a-week after his seizure he had an interview with
Professor Hodge, from whose notes we are permitted to make
an extract, preferring his simple statement to any prepared
report.  "On going over," says Dr. Hodge, "I found him
reclining, in his ordinary dress, upon a sofa in the study.
As I entered the room, he reached out his hand to me, and
for the first time in my life called me his dear son; and said
he had a few things to communicate, to which he did not
wish me to make any reply. He said that his impression as
to his situation was different from that of his family. They
thought he was getting well; he was sure he was going to
die. His increasing weakness, and the entire loss of appetite
convinced him that he could not recover. After much reflection, he had come to the conclusion that there never was
a time in which it would be or could be better for him to
leave the world. He never had felt that his work was done
before now. He had accomplished every thing he could for
his family, and thought he could no longer be of service to
the Seminary, and he therefore considered that it was desirable he should not recover. He said, he spoke thus not
from any bright views of the future, which he had not, but




INTERVIEW WITH DR. HODGE.           495
from the convictions of his understanding. He had nevel
known any man after eighty years of age to be useful, and he
did not wish to drag on a few more years a burden to himself or others. His views of divine truth, he said, remained
the same; and as to comfort and support in dying, he had
as much reason to expect them now as ever. He added,'Now, my dear son, farewell —you will never see me again.'
He told me to make a short prayer-which I did, he adding
Amen-with peculiar emphasis.
"As I was about to withdraw, he said-' Yes! I must
see you again, as I have some things to say about the Seminary.'
" October 15th. —Dr. Alexander sent for me again. He
was still in his study. He gave me his account-book of the
scholarships and explained to me what he wished done in
reference to that matter. He was more cheerful than when
I last saw him. Spoke of his dissolution as certainly near
at hand, and gave general directions about his funeral."
The disease, which took the form of a diarrhoea, now increased, so that he had no rest day or night. In the
morning, instead of being refreshed he was quite exhausted.
But until a week before his death, he came down regularly
to his study, as early as six o'clock in the morning, and lay
upon the sofa until bedtime. During the latter part of this
time, however, he required the assistance of an arm to lean
upon. For the last week of his thus coming down he seemed
better; the disease was somewhat checked, he was driven out.
occasionally, and continued to walk into another room, where
he listened to the newspapers and other reading, and seemed




496               INCREASED ILLNESS.
much interested in all that was going on. The only dis.
tressing symptom was a total loss of appetite, which all
around him tried in vain to tempt.
While his family were all hoping with much cheerfulness,
his own judgment of his case never wavered. He declared
that his stomach had lost all tone, and that he should gradually sink. In remembering the perfect calmness with which
he contemplated every symptom, his friends now wonder that
they were not more alarmed; for in his previous slight ailments he had usually been much discouraged. But his composure in speaking of his approaching dissolution tended to
dispel all serious apprehensions of the result. When any
new article was prepared for him by his loving family or sent
in by kind friends, he would say with the utmost cheerfulness, "M3y stomach has lost its power, and cannot react."
From the very first, it is obvious that he had a clear understanding of his case, such as precluded all expectation of
recovery.
On the 17th of October, for the first time, his family
were compelled to give up all hope of his amendment. The
change on that day was marked and sudden. He had
walked down as usual to the study, with the assistance of
his beloved daughter, but was evidently weakened by the
effort. During the day his debility increased so much that
when night came he was utterly unable to walk. He was very
desirous of being taken to his chamber, from which he said
he should never descend alive. Accordingly, by the kind aid
of Mr. Cleghorn of the Seminary and a few other persons,
he was carried up stairs and laid upon his bed. It is proper




INTERVIEW WITH SON.             497
to say that the day before, his eldest son, who had been absent in Europe, was permitted to meet him. He was lying
on the sofa, much emaciated, but with a countenance strikingly like that of thirty years before. Taking his son by the
hand, he gave thanks to God for having preserved him, and
for allowing this interview, which he had greatly desired.
He then proceeded to give a number of directions and orders,
with perfect composure and the deliberation of one who
utters a series of charges from a memorandum. There was
an air of unearthly authority which we remember with awe.
He said that his end was approaching, and that all arrangements had been completed for the comfort and sustenance
of his family. To this son he then gave the Hebrew Bible
which had been his daily companion for forty years. He
designated for his eldest grandson the fine Clarendon Cicero,
in ten quarto volumes, and caused us for the second boy to
choose between Hesychius and Burmann's quarto Quintilian.
He had previously pointed out for little William Alexander,
one of his grandchildren, the walking-stick which he had
long used. These things were done with all the calmness and
cheerfulness of his most untroubled days. He proceeded to
name two of his sons, who should have the entire control of
his manuscripts, and of any notice that might be published
of his life. He said that his treatise on Moral Science was
in his judgment the most worthy of being edited. After
having thus settled his last worldly affairs, he proceeded to
talk freely about the work of God in the Reformed Churches
abroad, and when his strength was exhausted, dismissed his
son. In all that he uttered he was clear, succinct, and de



498          INTERVIEW WITH DR. HODGE.
cided, speaking with a mien which carried something of
command. The writer of these pages may be allowed tc
record his heartfelt thanks to God, for the privilege of thus
beholding once more the face of an honoured father.
During his illness he dictated a paper to be taken round
for subscriptions towards the relief of a young man whose
studies had been interrupted by disease. Only two or three
days before his death he spoke of a clergyman whom he had
met on the railroad some time before, and to whom he was
very anxious to send some books. The name of this stranger
had escaped his memory, though he remembered the county
and presbytery somewhere near Buffalo.
On the 16th, already mentioned as his last day below
stairs, he gave his last directions to his beloved wife and to
his children. On the same day he had a last interview with
his cherished colleague and friend Dr. Hodge, whose memorandum we will not mar by abridgment or change.
"Oct. 17. Saw Dr. Alexander for the last time. He
was upstairs in bed. He said he had sent for me to speak
about his funeral. He said as Dr. John McDowell had from
the beginning been a Director of the Seminary, and was one
of its best friends, he thought him the proper person to
preach on the occasion. He commissioned me to make the
request as from him, with the injunction not to utter one
word of eulogy.'We cannot,' he added,'prevent people
from talking about us, but I do not wish any delineation of
character attempted, nor any praise.' He then, with a
smile, handed me a white bone walking-stick, carved and
presented to him by one of the chiefs of the Sandwich




INTERVIEW WITH MR. SCHENCK.          499
Islands, and said,' You must leave this to your successor in
office, that it may be handed down as a kind of symbol of
orthodoxy.'
" The students of the Seminary had set apart this day
as a season of fasting and prayer. When he was informed
of this he said,'Give them my blessing; but tell them not
to pray for my recovery, which is now out of the question.'
I never saw him more himself- more cheerful-almost playful. There seemed in his case to be no difference between
faith and sight. He spoke of this world and of the next in
the same tone of cheerful assurance, passing from one topic
to the other without the least change of manner. There
was no excitement nor tension of feeling, but the most perfect simplicity. I never saw and never imagined a deathbed where there was so little of death. It seemed to him
as an ordinary matter, and he spoke of dying with the same
natural cheerfulness, with which he would have spoken of
going from one room to another. Indeed his chamber was
the most cheerful room in the house."
Either on this day or the preceding, he had an interview
with the Rev. William E. Schenck, pastor of the First
Church, a gentleman for whom he had always cherished
much affection. From minutes of Mr. Schenck, intended
solely for his own eye, we make the following extracts.
"It was on the morning of the Thursday preceding Dr.
Alexander's death, that I called to inquire after his health.
My inquiries having been answered at the door I was about
Lo leave, when I was called back by one of his sons, who said
that his father had heard I was at the door and desired to see




500              APPROACH OF DEATH.
me. As I entered the study he was lying on the sofa in his
usual dress, but supported by pillows. He extended his hand
in a very cordial manner; on taking it I found it icy cold.
He at once said to me in a very warm and tender tone,'My
dear young friend, I have much desired to see you once
more, and am glad to have this opportunity. I wish to bid
you farewell. You will see me no more in this life.'
" I was so greatly overcome by this address that I hardly
knew what to reply. I merely said,'I trust and most earnestly hope, dear sir, that you may yet be mistaken. Should
it be so, we are confident it would be your inexpressible gain;
but it would be a sorrowful day indeed for all of us that
should survive,'
"'I feel confident,' said he,'that I am not mistaken. I
shall not live long. Nor have I any wish to stay longer. I
have lived eighty years, which is more than the usual term
of human life, and if I remain, I have little to look forward
to, but infirmity and suffering.  If such be the Lord's
will, I feel thoroughly satisfied, and even would prefer to
go now. My work on earth, I feel, is done. And it
does seem to me (he added with great earnestness), as if my
Heavenly Father had in great mercy surrounded me with
almost every circumstance which could remove anxieties
and make me feel that I can go without regret. My affairs
have all been attended to, my arrangements are all completed, and I can think of nothing more to be done. I have
greatly desired to see my son James before my departure,
and sometimes feared I should not have that privilege, but
the Lord has graciously brought him back in time to see me,




PERFECT PEACE.                 501
having led him safely through much peril on the ocean.
My children are all with me................................
The church of which you are pastor is prosperous and flourishing. The Seminary Faculty is again full, and the Institution in an excellent condition. The more I reflect upon
the matter, the more all things seem to combine to make me
perfectly willing to enter into my rest. The Lord has very
graciously and tenderly led me (he added, closing his eyes
and clasping his hands in a devotional manner) all the days
9f my life-yes, all the days of my life. And he is now
with me still. In Him I enjoy perfect peace.' The last sentence he uttered in a quick, earnest and happy tone of voice,
such as was peculiar to him in certain moods. Pausing a
moment or two, as if to recover breath, he then said:
"' I have much desired to see you, that I might bid you
farewell, and once more invoke God's blessing upon you and
your ministry. You have had a strong hold on my affections, and I have felt much satisfaction in your preaching.
Continue as you have begun, and have done thus far, to
preach Christ and Him crucified, scripturally, plainly, earnestly, and God will continue richly to bless your ministry, even
as he has here so lately done. He lifted his hands, as if to
pronounce a benediction. I fell on my knees, beside the
sofa, with my head bowed, and weeping bitterly; nevertheless I tried hard to restrain my feelings, while with his
hands extended over me, he offered a short and fervent
prayer, closing with these words:'God greatly bless his
servant, in his person, in his family, and in his ministry.
May it please God to give him great usefulness and success.




502               REV. MR. SCHENCK.
May many souls be saved through his efforts; and when his
work is done, may we be permitted to meet again in a happier world, Amen.'
" As I arose from my knees, he reached out his hand as
if to bid me farewell.
"' I cannot go (said I) until I attempt to thank you,
which I do with my whole heart, for your long and unvarying
kindness to me. You have been to me the best and most
valued of earthly friends.'
"' You must thank God for that, (said he quickly.) All
kindness and all friends are His gifts.  Give my love to your
wife and children.'
" The last sentence he repeated when I had reached the
door, and very slowly, as if he were loath to have me leave
him"'Give my love and a very affectionate farewell to your
wife and to your dear little children.'
" As I walked away from the house I could not repress
my tears, and a sense of utter desolation came over me for
a little while as I thought that I had probably taken a last
view, and received the last words of affectionate counsel from
that beloved and venerated friend, to whom I have been accustomed to resort, and on whose counsels I have been accustomed to rely as on those of no other man on earth. But
soon my feelings grew calmer. I felt that I had been breathing an atmosphere redolent with the very fragrance of
heaven. The room that I had left seemed to have been perfumed with holy composure and immovable confidence in a
glorified but present Redeemer. As I reflected upon the




REVIVAL OF YOUTHFUL SCENES.            503
scene, I gained new views of life, of death, and of Heaven.
I felt, as I had never felt before, how'sure and steadfast' is
that anchor of Gospel hope which' entereth into that within
the veil.' I could not help asking myself,'Is it possible
to die so?- Does the Lord Jesus give his people such complete and quiet victories over the grim King of Terrors?'
There was nothing excited, nothing exultant; and yet it
seemed to be thoroughly triumphant; a calm, believing,
cheerful looking through the gloomy grave into the glories of
the eternal world. It was the steady, unfaltering step of a
genuine Christian philosopher as well as an eminent saint,
evincing his own thorough, heartfelt, and practical belief in
the doctrines he had so long and so ably preached, as he
descended hour by hour into the dark valley and shadow of
death. And I could not help praying as I had never prayed
before,'Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my
last end be like his.'"
In his illness his early days seemed to pass before him in
review. The anniversary of his licensure, sixty years before,
had recently occurred. To this he alluded on the last day
that he sat up, recurring to his unwillingness to be licensed,
and his dislike to the text assigned to him, as before related.
During one of these nights, while his devoted wife was watching by his side, he broke out into something like a soliloquy,
rehearsing God's gracious dealings with his soul. There was
so great an elevation3in his language, that Mrs. Alexander
was unwilling to be the sole witness, and called in their
daughter. He recounted the particular exercises of his youth,
and especially dwelt on that scene in the Bushy Hills, of




504               DYING EXPERIENCE.
which notice has been taken in one of our early chapters.
On this occasion, more than any other in his illness, his views
and emotions appeared to acquire the form of holy rapture.
Disease was now rapidly doing its work. His appetite
was gone. Through the night he would occasionally take a
little ice or a spoonful of ice-cream. There was something
touching in the value which he set on the most ordinary attentions. He was especially thankful that our dear mother
was permitted to wait on him to the last. She was much
attenuated and exhausted by solicitude and loss of sleep: axu
could scarcely have held out many days longer; yet the support of her faith and patience was little less remarkable than
his own. When approaching his end, he said to her with
great tenderness, " My dear, one of my last prayers will be
that you may have as serene and painless a departure as
mine." How wonderfully was this prayer soon to be answered!  He said, "Now I understand, as I never did
before, what is meant by that promise, Psalm xli. 3, Thou
wilt make all his bed in his sickness." Before this time he
had suffered little acute pain, but his disease was of such a
nature as to allow him no rest. Yet no word of complaint
or dissatisfaction fell from his lips. He often said, " Why
should a living man complain, a man for the punishment of
his sins?" To his daughter, who was leaving him in the
morning, he said, " You have been a watcher indeed-ever
on the alert."
On the day after he finally went to his bed, he gave his
last directions about the Seminary, and many little things
which were on his mind. IIe seemed to forget nothing, but




TRANQUIL JOY.                 505
made suggestions even to the last of matters pertaining to
the health of the family. On Saturday, October 18th, his
weakness was extreme, and from this time he positively refused to take any anodyne. He said he knew that death
could not be far off, and he wished his mind to be entirely
free from the effects of stupefying drugs.  During the night
he suffered more pain than at any time previous, but in the
intervals was perfectly calm and peaceful-more than peaceful-he seemed as happy as if he was already in heaven, and
talked without intermission in the most delightful way. His
discourse was much about dying, and he expressed a wish
that he might pass away on the morrow, which was the
Lord's Day; but added, "Just as God sees best." When
relieved from pain, he said that such relief was often to be
attributed to the ministration of angels; and afterwards,
"They are always around the dying beds of God's people."
He repeated part of Watts's hymn, " 0 for an overcoming
faith, To cheer my dying hours." He spoke of the preciousness of the word on which God had caused him to hope;
"just the same word," said he, "that caused me to hope
so many years ago, when I was in such distress because I
thought I had not conviction enough; and could get no
comfort till a good minister (the Rev. James Mitchell) told
me that there was no certain degree of conviction prescribed
as necessary to salvation; and it was by hearing this again
and again that I found comfort." All this with a serene and
heavenly glow, which can never be described.
About the same time he said to one of his sons, who inquired whether he was at peace; "0 yes!" with a tone




506               THE LAST SABBATH.
which implied, "How could you doubt it?"  Then he
added, "No ecstacy —but clear faith. I have been reviewing
the plan of salvation this morning, and assuring myself that
I do accept it.-The transition to a state so unknown is certainly awful; but Christ can prevent the shock. I have
never been afraid to die, and I have never before seen a time
so suitable for my departure. I am in the fortieth year of
my professorship. I have seen all my wishes accomplished.
God has answered my prayers, even in averting particular
diseases which I feared. The Seminary has never been in
so prosperous a state. If I were to recover, it would be for no
use; I have seen no man fit for much after eighty. But I
shall not recover."  To others he had said, "My views of
theological truth are what they have always been"
On Sunday he was still weaker, and said that he could
not last long; but his mind was just as clear as ever. He
designated a passage of Scripture, which he wished to hear
read by one of his children, and when some difficulty occurred in turning to it, he mentioned the beginning of the
verse, Who shall lay any thing, to the charge of God's elect?
When the family returned from church, and spoke of Dr.
Hodge's sermon, he was much interested, and said with
much animation, " He is a noble man." About noon a very
perceptible sinking took place, so that we looked every moment for his last breath. He lay quiet, breathing quick but
feebly, and with his eyes closed. During Monday the 20th,
he slumbered, but now and then uttered broken expressions
which were truly characteristic of him; such as " We must
devise something for them," "Penitence and faith."  To



EUTHANASIA.                  507
wards night he was seized with a hiccough, which con
tinued through the next day; yet he seemed little annoyed
by it. His voice was hardly audible, and his eyes were very
dim. On the morning of Tuesday the 21st, he seemed
somewhat revived, and talked a little. Though he had some
return of appetite, he was averse to taking food; and when
the physician urged it, asked if it was to strengthen him,
and spoke of that as useless and absurd. But when told
that it was only for his temporary comfort, he 5 dsented. His
taste seemed as acute as in health, and he ne\ er had greater
quickness of hearing. After this he lay in the same tranquil state, though perfectly collected in reason, growing
weaker and weaker, until about six o'clock in the morning
of Wxednesday, October 22d, he ceased to breathe. It was
observed by his older children that as he drew near to death,
his countenance assumed more and more the look which he
had when they could first remember him.  To the last he
was exempt from the marked changes of appearance which
are common in illness; his face looked comelier, and as if
chiseled out of marble.
The event was the more impressive, because the Synod
of New Jersey was at the very time assembled in Princeton.
To this he made frequent allusion, a very short time before
his death. There were many devotional acts held by this
body, in reference to the illness of their venerable member.
An end so blessed, so edifying, so fitted to suggest high
thoughts of God's covenant faithfulness, could not fail to
make its deep impression on these servants of Christ. In
looking back upon the scene, we find nothing absent which




508             PRAYER OF THE DYING.
he could have desired. It was a comment on the wordE
which were often upon his lips, How excellent is thy loving
kindness! It was, to the letter, a fulfilment of wishes expressed by him some years before, in the following devotional
ex.ercise, which he doubtless penned with reference to his
own case.
PRAYER FOR ONE WHO FEELS THAT HE IS APPROACHING
THE BORDERS OF ANOTHER WORLD.
O0 most merciful God! I rejoice that thou dost reign
over the universe with a sovereign sway, so that thou dost
according to thy will, in the armies of heaven and among
the inhabitants of the earth. Thou art the Maker of my
body, and Father of my spirit, and thou hast a perfect right
to dispose of me, in that manner which will most effectually
promote thy glory: and I know whatever thou dost is right,
and wise, and just, and good. And whatever may be my
eternal destiny, I rejoice in the assurance that thy great
name will be glorified in me. But as thou hast been pleased
to reveal thy mercy and thy grace to our fallen miserable
world; and as the word of this salvation has been preached
unto me, inviting me to accept of, eternal life, upon the gracious terms of the Gospel, I do cordially receive the Lord
Jesus Christ as my Saviour and only Redeemer, believing
sincerely the whole testimony which thou hast given respecting his divine character, his real incarnation, his unspotted
and holy life, his numerous and beneficent miracles, his expiatw:ry and meritorious death, and his glorious resurrection




AN ANSWERED PRAYER.               509
and ascension. I believe, also, in his supreme exaltation, in
his prevalent intercession for his chosen people, in his affectionate care and aid afforded to his suffering members here
below, and in his second coming to receive his humble followers to dwell with himself in heaven; and to take ven.
geance on his obstinate enemies. My only hope and confidence of being saved, rests simply on the mediatorial work
and prevailing intercession of the Lord Jesus Christ; in
consequence of which the Holy Spirit is graciously sent to
make application of Christ's redemption, by working faith in
us, and repentance unto life: and rendering us meet for the
heavenly inheritance, by sanctifying us in the whole man,
soul, body, and spirit. Grant, gracious God! that the rich
blessings of the new covenant may be freely bestowed on thy
unworthy servant. I acknowledge that I have no claim to
thy favour, on account of any goodness in me by nature; for
alas! there dwelleth in me, that is in my flesh, no good
thing; nor on account of any works of righteousness done
by me; for all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags. Neither
am I able to make atonement for any one of my innumerable
transgressions; which, I confess before thee, are not only
many in number, but heinous in their nature, justly deserving thy displeasure and wrath; so that if I were immediately
sent to hell, thou wouldst be altogether just in my condemnation. Although I trust that I have endeavoured to serve
thee with some degree of sincerity; yet whatever good thing
I have ever done, or even thought, I ascribe entirely to thy
grace, without which I can do nothing acceptable in thy
sight. And I am deeply convinced, that my best duties




510         PRAYER ANSWERED IN DEATH.
have fallen far short of the perfection of thy law, and have
been so mingled with sin in the performance, that I might
justly be condemned for the most fervent Gayer I ever made.
And I would confess with shame and contrition, that I am
not only chargeable with sin in the act, but that there is a
law in my members, warring against the law of my mind,
aiming to bring me into captivity to the law of sin and
death. This corrupt nature is the source of innumerable
evil thoughts and desires, damps the exercise of faith and
love, and stands in the way of well-doing, so that when I
would do good, evil is present with me. And so deep and
powerful is this remaining depravity, that all efforts to eradicate or subdue it, are vain without the aid of divine grace.
And when at any time I obtain a glimpse of the depth and
turpitude of the sin of my nature, I am overwhelmed, and
constrained to exclaim with Job,'I abhor myself and repent in dust and ashes.' And now, righteous Lord God Almighty, I would not attempt to conceal any of my actual
transgressions, however vile and shameful they are; but
would penitently confess them before thee; and would plead
in my defence nothing but the perfect righteousness of the
Lord Jesus Christ, who died the just for the unjust, to bring
us near to God. For his sake alone do I ask or expect the
rich blessings necessary to my salvation. For although I am
unworthy, he is most worthy; though I have no righteousness, he has provided by his expiatory death, and by his holy
life, a complete justifying righteousness, in which spotless
robe I pray that I may be clothed; so that thou my righteous
undge wilt see no sin in me, but wilt acquit me from every




PRAYER OF THE AGED.              511
accusation, and justify me freely by thy grace, through the
righteousness of my Lord and Saviour, with whom thou art
ever well pleased. And my earnest prayer is, that Jesus
may save me from my sins, as well as from their punishment;
that I may be redeemed from all iniquity, as well as from
the condemnation of the law; that the work of sanctification
may be carried on in my soul by thy Word and Spirit, until it
be perfected at thine appointed time. And grant, 0 Lord!
that as long as I am in the body, I may make it my constant study and chief aim to glorify thy name, both with
soul and body, which are no longer mine but thine; for I am'bought with a price' —not with silver and gold, but with
the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish
and without spot. Enable me to let my light so shine that
others seeing my good works shall glorify thy name. 0!
make use of me as an humble instrument of advancing thy
kingdom on earth, and promoting the salvation of immortal
souls. If thou hast appointed sufferings for me here below,
I beseech thee to consider my weakness, and let thy chastisements be those of a loving father, that I may be made
partaker of thy holiness. And let me not be tempted above
what I am able to bear, but with the temptation make a way
of escape.
"0 most merciful God! cast me not off in the time of
old age; forsake me not when my strength declineth. Now
when I am old and gray-headed forsake me not; but let thy
grace be sufficient for me, and enable me to bring forth fruit
even in old age. May my hoary head be found in the ways
of righteousness! Preserve my mind from dotage and im



512               ANSWERED PRAYER.
becility, and my body fiom protracted disease and excruciating pain. Deliver me from despondency and discouragement in my declining years, and enable me to bear affliction
with patience, fortitude, and perfect submission to thy holy
will. Lift upon me perpetually the light of thy reconciled
countenance, and cause me to rejoice in thy salvation, and in
the hope of thy glory. May the peace that passeth all ulnderstanding be constantly diffused through my soul, so that
my mind may remain calm through all the storms and vicissitudes of life.
" As, in the course of nature, I must be drawing near
to my end, and as I know I must soon put off this tabernacle, I do humbly and earnestly beseech thee, 0 Father of
mercies, to prepare me for this inevitable and solemn event
Fortify my mind against the terrors of death.  Give me, if
it please thee, an easy passage through the gate of death
Dissipate the dark clouds and mists which naturally hang
over the grave, and lead me gently down into the gloomy
valley. 0 my kind Shepherd, who hast tasted the bitterness
of death for me, and who knowest how to sympathize with
and succour the sheep of thy pasture, be thou present to
guide, to support, and to comfort me. Illumine with beams
of heavenly light the valley and skadow of death, so that 1.
may fear no evil. When heart and flesh fail, be thou the
strength of my heart, and my portion for ever. Let not my
courage fail in the trying hour. Permit not the great adver
sary to harass my soul in the last struggle, but make me a
conqueror and more than a conqueror in this fearful conflict.
I humbly ask that my reason may be continued to the last;




REFLECTIONS.                  513
and if it be thy will, that I may be so comforted and supported, that I may leave a testimony in favour of the
reality of religion, and thy faithfulness in fulfilling thy
gracious promises; and that others of thy servants who
may follow after, may be encouraged by my example, to
commit themselves boldly to the guidance and keeping of
the Shepherd of Israel.
"And when my spirit leaves this clay tenement, Lord
Jesus receive it! Send some of the blessed angels to convoy
imy inexperienced soul to the mansion which thy love has pre9ared. And 0! let me be so situated, though in the lowest
ink, that I may behold thy glory. May I have an abundant entrance administered unto me into the kingdom of
our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; for whose sake and in
whose name, I ask all these things. Amen."7:`
The unvarnished narrative of such a scene might perhaps claim to be left to make its own impression; but there
are a few reflections which force themselves upon our thankfill minds, and which shall be simply and briefly expressed.
The first is, that death approached in a great degree disarmed of its ordinary terrors. Here was' nothing ghastly.
Though not painless, his dying bed was exempt from agony.
He was surrounded by his family, was waited on by the wife
of his bosom, and was in full possession of his intellectual
powers.
Another remark is, that in his last hours there was no
vacillation, as to the truth of the system which he had spent
his life in maintaining. He may be said to have reasserted it
with big last breath.
* Thoughts on Religious Experience, p. 307




514                  REFLECTIONS.
But more striking than all, is it, that in dying he was
pre-eminently true to the natural simplicity of his character.
Not one syllable was there for effect. All was as in his days
of health. He looked collectedly on the awful change, and
met the enemy as one whom he had long surveyed and was
now to overcome.




CHAPTER NINETEENTH.
1851.?P1IERAL SERVICES, AND OTHER TESTIMONIALS OF RESPEOT.
GREAT solemnity was added to the scenes which have
just been reported, by the fact that the Synod of New
Jersey was meeting in Princeton at the time. This venerable body adjourned to attend the funeral services, which took
place on Friday, the 24th of October.  The concourse of
awed and mourning fri.ends was extraordinary. Many members of the New-York and Philadelphia Synods were present,
as well as numerous fellow Christians of other persuasions.
The Synod of New Jersey, after meeting in the Chapel,
assumed the principal part in the solemnities. The Presbytery of New Brunswick accompanied the remains as pallbearers. Then followed the family, and Professors, the Directors, the students, the clergy and a multitude of mourning
friends. The assembly gathered in the First Presbyterian
Church, where the galleries were filled with the students of
the two institutions, and the body of the house with the




516             FUNERAL SOLEMNITIES.
Synod, while the aisles and even the pulpit stairs were occupied by the attendant throng.
A prayer by the Rev. Dr. Murray opened +he service.
The students of the Seminary then sang a hymn   Part of
the fifteenth chapter of the first epistle to the Corinthians
was read. The hymn,'Why should we mourn departed
friends,' was sung. After which, in pursuance of a wish expressed by the departed, a funeral discourse was delivered by
the Rev. John McDowell, D. D., the oldest Director. His
most appropriate text was Revelation xiv. 13. "And 1
heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed
are the dead that die in the Lord from henceforth; yea,
saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours:
and their works do follow them."  The preacher pointed out
the prominent marks which indicate the character refereed to
-he that is in the Lord; and then remarked, that blessedness was predicted of him who sustained this relation in life
and in death. The nature of this blessedness was a second
topic-a blessedness in union with Christ; a blessedness in
dying while thus united with the living head; a blessed rest
after all the toils of life, and in the full enjoyment of heaven,
whither every good work followed the believer, and received
its gracious reward. The beautiful and appropriate theme
was treated in the most practical manner, with much earnestness and feeling; and there appeared to be but one impression
among the auditors of the entire fitness both of the subject
and its treatment to the solemn occasion. It was just such
a sermon as should be preached on a fiuneral occasion, and
we doubt not, that the deceased, could he have heard it,




THE PROCESSION.                517
would have expressed his approbation. After the sermon
proper, the preacher read an extract of a letter which he
had received from one of the Professors in the Seminary a
few days previous to the death of Dr. Alexander, in which it
was stated, as the twice repeated injunction of the deceased,
that the funeral sermon should contain no delineation of his
character and no eulogy. This inhibition, so much in keeping
with his general character, was in fact his eulogy. It was so
felt to be by the audience, although the preacher must have
felt embarrassed by a restriction which precluded him from
expatiating in so fruitful a field. He confined himself accordingly to a few historical details.
" After the religious services in the church," says a contemporary account, "the body was borne by ministers of
the Gospel to its burial. The arrangements for the procession had been made with great skill, and the whole was conducted without the slightest confusion. It was one of the
most impressive spectacles we have ever seen. In the middle
of the broad street fronting the College and Church, the
students of the College, with their Professors, amounting to
more than two hundred and fifty, walked four abreast; then
followed the Synod of New Jersey and clergy from the
neighbouring cities and towns, numbering more than one
nundred clergymen; then the corpse, borne by members of
the Presbytery of New Brunswick, and accompanied by the
sons of the deceased; these were followed by the students
in the Theological Seminary, with the Directors, amounting
to about one hundred and forty, together with citizens.
There were no females in the procession, although many
were in attendance at the church.




618             THE PLACE OF BURIAL.
" The numerous cortege formed an extended circle around
the grave, and after the body was deposited, the audience
were briefly addressed by Rev. Dr. Magie of Elizabethtown.
His remarks were most happily conceived, and uttered in
silvery and tremulous tones. In speaking of depositing all
that was mortal of this good and great man in the silent
tomb, of the many evidences of usefulness he had left behind
him, and of the halo of light which the doctrine of the resurrection shed upon the grave, he with difficulty commanded
his feelings. Had it not been for this self-imposed restraint,
he could have dissolved the large audience in tears. One of
the most striking features of the solemn ceremonial was the
six sons of the deceased, three of them in the ministry,
standing side by side on the margin of that grave which held
the mortal part of their venerated parent, to whose instructions and example they were so deeply indebted. It was a
funeral never to be forgotten.  It was a funeral without
gloom, which bore the thoughts quite to the verge of heaven.
The light of the resurrection and of immortality seemed to
dispel the shades of death and the grave, and the spectators
of the scene could say, and no doubt did say,' Let me die
the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his.' "
The closing prayer was offered by the Rev. Dr. Plumer.
We must be permitted to add, that the brief address of
Dr. Magie, at the grave, was eminently simple, graceful and
pathetic. The throng had become great, but they now
formed a hollow square, the students of the Seminary on the
west, the College students on the east, the Synod on the
north, and the citizens on the south. The sun of a match,




TESTIMONIES.                519
less autumnal day was just going down, as the beloved deposit was lowered into the earth which contains the relics
of Burr, Edwards, Davies, Witherspoon, Smith, Green and
Miller. Dr. Magie broke the silence by words something like
these:
"There is the end of eighty years-of sixty years of
faithful service in the Christian ministry-of forty years of
eminence in our highest institution of sacred learning. That
place looks cold, and dark and gloomy to lay such a man in;
but it is just as good a place as that in which his Master
rested. The dust we lay here is precious. It has been the
dwelling-place of an immortal soul-it has been the temple
of the Holy Ghost." A few other touching words were
spoken.
It would be difficult, and might even seem invidious, to
single out any from the numerous discourses which were delivered from the pulpits of his pupils and other friends, in
every part of the country. To some of these we may be indebted for a few corroborative testimonials, in another place.
The. same remark applies with less force to the acts of public
bodies. Several of these, on account of statements which
they contain, deserve to be perpetuated.
The Synod of New Jersey, being on the very spot, naturally took the lead in expressions of filial respect.
EXTRACT FROM  THE MINUTES OF THE SYNOD OF NEW
JERSEY, IN SESSION AT PRINCETON, N. J., OCT. 22D, 1851.
"The Committee appointed to bring in a paper expressive of the views of the Synod, with reference to the death




520             SYNOD OF NEW JERSEY.
of the Rev. Archibald Alexander, D. D., made the following
report, which was adopted and ordered to be published in
the New-York Observer.
" Since the Synod opened its sessions in this place, God
in his wise and holy Providence has seen fit to take the Rev.
Archibald Alexander, D. D., to himself, in the eightieth year
of his age.
" This event has been preceded by an illness of a few
weeks, during which the venerable man gradually declined,
until about six o'clock this morning, he sweetly fell asleep in
Jesus, and was gathered in as a shock of corn fully ripe.
His departure was so gentle, and attended by so entire an
absence of distress of any sort, that the family were scarcely
able to fix upon the precise moment when the spirit was released, and went up to hear the plaudit,-' Well done good
and faithful servant, thou has been faithful over a few things,
I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thouin to the
joy of thy Lord.'
" This is not the time for a sketch, however brief, of the
life and character of one who occupied so elevated a position,
and had been so eminently useful in our beloved Church.
Nothing more can be done than simply to say that the circumstances connected with the death of Dr. Alexander-a
death, in all respects so befitting his previou4s life-ought to
be regarded by the members of this Synod, as highly instructive and impressive. It has occurred during the regular sittings of our body, and while a large number of his brethren
and former pupils were assembled to hear the first tidings of;ts announcement, and make arrangements to attend the




TESTIMONIES.                  521
honoured dust to its resting-place in the grave. It was a
meeting of which the deceased himself spoke with tender
interest, and which it is hoped may become memorable for
the happy influence produced upon many hearts.
"Dr. Alexander was the first Professor in the Theological Seminary in this town, and in the bosom of our
Synod. This office he was permitted by the favour of the
Great Head of the church to fill with distinguished credit to
himself, and with equal benefit to others, for upwards of
thirty-nine years. Placed over the Institution in its infancy,
he had the satisfaction of seeing it increase in numbers and
usefulness, until it has become a blessing to the land and to
the world. A large proportion of all the clerical members
of this Synod had the privilege of sitting at his feet and
drinking in instruction from those lips which are now sealed
in death. Whatever of influence many of us have gained,
or power of doing good we have exerted, are due very much,
under God, to the labours and prayers of this distinguished
Professor.
"A year ago Dr. Alexander was with us in the meetings
of our Synod, to cheer us by his presence, and aid us with
his counsels. Never shall we forget the address which he
delivered on the evening of our Devotional Exercises, and
which, as many at the time remarked, was characterized by
almost all the vigour and unction of his earlier days. We
listened to him with mingled emotions of delight and sorrow
-delight that we could once more listen to the well-known
vcice-and sorrow that we should probably see his face no
more. This was evidently his own anticipation, and so the
event has proved.




522             SYNOD OF NEW JERSEY.
"The death of Dr. Alexander will reach the secret place
of tears, in multitudes of different and distant parts of our
land. Missionaries in China, India, Africa, and the Islands
of the Sea, will receive the intelligence and cry, My father,
my father, the chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof!
Good men here and there will call to mind his venerable
appearance, and bless God for giving to the Church such a
minister.
" When such a Prince and Great One falls in Israel, it
is proper for devout men to carry him to his grave, and make
great lamentation over him. Grieve for him we cannot-we
dare not, but surely we may grieve for ourselves and for the
rising ministry. When we reflect upon his long and useful
life as an ambassador for Christ, begun when he was but
nineteen years of age, and extending through a period of more
than sixty years, all spent in successful efforts to build up
the kingdom of the Redeemer among men, and retaining its
mild and genial lustre to the last, and add to this the sweet
serenity of the closing scene, we feel constrained to unite in
devout thanksgiving to the King of Zion. We bless God
for such a life, and with equal warmth would we bless God
for such a death.
" In this our departed father was pre-eminent.  He
followed his pupils when they went forth to their work, and
kept himself acquainted with all their trials and successes.
Hte could tell where they were, and how they were.
"Our beloved Seminary is bereaved, and though sadness
fills our own hearts, we cannot do otherwise than tender our
affectionate sympathies to the Professors that remain.




TESTIMONIES.                523
Within two short years, Dr. Miller and Dr. Alexander have
gone down to the grave. United pleasantly together in a
long and honourable life, in death they are not much divided.
May the spirit of Elijah rest on Elisha! But all is not lost.
We have still brethren beloved to conduct the studies of our
Samuels and Timothys; above all we have the mercy and the
faithfulness of a covenant keeping God to confide in. It is
still permitted us to say, The Lord liveth, and blessed be our
Rock, and let the God of our salvation be exalted.
" Attest,     R. K. RODGERS,
"Stated Clerk of the Synod of New Jersey."
It is a truly pleasing reflection to those who are most
nearly concerned, that the party divisions of our Presbyterian
body seemed to have lost all such influence as could prevent
a hearty condolence in those who fell into the other branch
of the Church. No public testimonial was therefore more
grateful than that of the New School Synod of New-York
and New Jersey; concerning which we borrow from a journal
of the time as follows:
" BLOOMFIELD, Thursday, Oct. 23d.
"At the close of the public services in the Synod last
evening, an announcement was made from the pulpit of the
death of the venerable Dr. Alexander, and the concluding
prayer was offered with special reference to the fact that so
great and good a man had fallen in Israel. This morning at
the prayer meeting the subject was again renewed. The
moderator led in prayer in reference to it, and various touchmng and interesting statements were made by Dr. Cox, the




524     SYNOD OF NEW YORK AND NEW JERSEY.
Rev. John N. Lewis, Dr. Campbell, &c., as to Dr. Alexander's
literary and theological history. Afterwards a committee consisting of the Rev. J. F. Stearns, D. D., T. H. Skinner, D. D.,
A. H. Campbell, D. D., were appointed to draft appropriate
resolutions. Among other circumstances that showed the
high estimate in which the deceased was held, we noticed his
likeness which had been hung up in the Synod's place of
meeting, where all could refresh their recollections of one so
dear in life, and so lamented in death. A meeting was also
called of all the members of the Synod, who had been his
pupils in the Seminary."
The resolutions were these:
"Resolved, That we. have heard with profound sorrow,
not unmingled with grateful praise, of the peaceful, saint-like
death of the venerable Dr. ALEXANDER.
"Resolved, That the rare constellation of excellencies
which met and blended in the life and character of this
eminent servant of God; his child-like simplicity, warmhearted piety, rich religious experience, fervid Christian
eloquence, together with a sound practical judgment, fine
natural endowments, accomplished scholarship, and fidelity
and perseverance in the discharge of every duty, conspired to
make him one of the highest ornaments which have adorned
the Church of Christ in our country.  The cause of Thoological Education, to which his ripest years were devoted,
found in him one of its most active and successful promoters;
and the Christian Ministry, especially of the Presbyterian
Church, is under an inestimable and lasting obligation to his
truly apostolic service and example.




TESTIMONIES.                 525' Resolved, That in this affecting dispensation of Divine
Providence, we recognize a call to new fidelity and watchfulness in the service of Christ, and devoutly pray that the
Great Head of the Church would make it a means of spiritual blessings, not only to ourselves but to the school of the
Prophets, so highly favoured of God in commencing its existence under the guidance of such a teacher, and to the
whole Presbyterian family throughout the land, to whom in
common his memory will ever be fragrant.
" Resolved, That we tender our affectionate sympathy to
the bereaved family of the deceased, and would crave the
privilege to mingle our tears as at the grave of a father.' JoHN N. LEWIS, Stated Clerk."
From his native State the tribute of respect was warm
and significant. In communicating it, the Rev. Dr. McFarland, the Stated Clerk, uses the following language: "I feel
as though I ought to embrace the occasion to say a few
words for myself. I doubt whether any, out of the family
connection, feel the death of youl beloved father more
deeply than I do. There was no man on earth for whom I
felt such love. Ever since I knew him, he has been my
counsellor in all the important changes of my life. I felt
unbounded confidence in the soundness of his judgment, and
he always took a great interest in my affairs.
"I felt under obligations to him in common with others
for his invaluable instructions; but when I was associated
with him, I enjoyed his personal friendship to a degree which
I had no reason to expect, and of which he gave me many




526               SYNOD OF VIRGINIA.
substantial proofs, and I regard it as one of the richest blessings of my life.  I will thank you to convey to my beloved
friend, your mother, the assurance of the sympathies of a
heart that feels BEREAVED in some humble measure like hei
own. God grant her the abundant consolations of his grace.
Please also to present my kind sympathies to your sister and
to your brothers."
"TIlE SYNOD OF VIRGINIA IN SESSION AT NORFOLK, VA.,
November 1st, 1851.
"It having pleased the Great Head of the Church to remove by death, on the 22d ult., the venerable and reverend
Dr. Archibald Alexander, from his long and useful labours
on earth to his reward in heaven: this Synod, in whose
bounds he had been born and reared, and of which, during
the early part of his ministry, he had been a valued member,
feel themselves called upon to testify their affectionate remembrance of his great excellence as a faithful servant of
Jesus Christ; and to record on their Minutes the mournful
bereavement which the whole Church, and this Synod in
particular, feel, in the death of so eminent and useful a
minister of Christ. His character as a faithful and successful
preacher of the Gospel for more than half a century, and
his eminent services as a teacher of Theology in the Princeton Seminary, from its foundation till his death, are known
to the entire Church of Christ in our own country, and to
most of the Evangelical Churches in Europe.
"' The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree; he
shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon. Those that be planted
in the house of the Lord, shall flourish in the courts of our




MRS. ALEXANDER.                527
God. They shall still bring forth fruit in old age; they
shall be fat and flourishing: to show that the Lord is upright; he is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in
him.'
" Resolved, That the Stated Clerk of Synod Transmit to
the family of Dr. Alexander a copy of this record, with the
assurance of the tender sympathy of Synod in their affliction.
"The foregoing is a true extract from the minutes of
Synod.
" FRANCIS MCFARLAND, Stated Clerk.
"' To the family of the late Dr. A. Alexander."
We need not offer an apology for adding a few paragraphs in this place respecting Mrs. Alexander, who survived
her husband less than one year. So united were they in
their lives, so helpful, and as it were necessary to one another, and so seldom seen apart, that those who remember
either will willingly read of both.
Janetta Waddel was the second daughter and fourth
child of the celebrated James Waddel, D. D., already mentioned in this work. She was Iyrn in Augusta county, Virginia, but was early removed to the other side of the Blue
Ridge, where she spent her happy youth in the county of
Louisa. As she grew up she was greatly admired for her
beauty, grace, and mental promise. During the long blindness of her father, she was eyes to his infirmity, acting as his
amanuensis, and making him acquainted with the contents
of many volumes. He taught her to pronounce Latin, at a
very early age, that she might read works to him in that lan



528                MRS. ALEXANDER.
guage. Under his guidance her education was conducted,
partly by the aid of domestic teachers; for she never went
abroad to school. In early youth she made a profession of
her faith in Christ; but of her private exercises at this time,
no particular account has been preserved.
As'before related, Dr. Alexander turned aside from a
journey, and gained her plighted affection.  She was young
and blooming, full of vivacity, and the charm of all his
house. Matronly virtues in process of time took the place
of youthful attraction; but we may be allowed to say, she
was always lovely, as a wife, a mother, and a friend. It is
impossible to describe what she was to her husband. It was
not merely affection that she bestowed, though the tenderness of her attachment was anxious if not overweening; she
rendered wise counsel; she assumed every domestic care
with untiring industry, frugality, and hospitable warmth;
she disguised her own solicitudes, to cheer him when he desponded or was ill; she gave her full soul to all his pleasures
and all his pains; she was permitted to be as a ministering
angel beside his dying bed. Through God's singular mercy,
she enjoyed life-long health and spirits. Her very countenance and greeting shed sunshine over the house and its
guests; and the earlier students of the Seminary remember
her as a mother or an elder sister.
Without pretension. she was well informed in the usual
range of female literature. In conversation she excelled,
being free, full of vivacity and humour, and ready to cheer
the hearts of all who approached her. It is impossible for
her children to think of her, without an affectionate and




MRS., ALEXANDER.                 529
pensive delight. Into her bosom they familiarly poured all
their pleasures and grief, from infancy till some of them attained to gray hairs. Her mind was quick, and her memory
remarkable. - In later years her reading was chiefly cf a religious kind, and her taste was for a class of authors who are
savoury and evangelical. It is pleasant to recur to her favourite books: Wilson's Sacra Privata, Bennet's Divine
Oratory, Traill's Sermons on the Throne of Grace, Flavel's
Treatises, Newton's Cardiphonia, Cowper's Poems and Letters, and Boston's Fourfold State. In the school which
Providence had given her, she grew up to a modest, gentle
and consistent piety. Her coincidence of views with her
husband was perfect, and she shared his interest in all that
concerned Christ's kingdom. During the first years of the
Seminary she was active and successful in gathering support
for needy students. The humble poor found her bountiful,
assiduous and constant. She delighted in religious services,
and gave them much of her time.
The bereavement which made her a widow was a stroke
which paralyzed her energies in some degree. Yet her resignation was absolute. She uttered no word of murmuring;
she even showed a melancholy smile as she turned to her
darkened house and to the service of her family.  But
a shade had fallen on her, and she never was the buoyant person she had been. Still she pursued her solitary
path with uncomplaining diligence and kindly affection. It
pleased God to make her departure eminently peaceful, as
if in answer to prayers which we have recorded. It took
place after a brief illness, accompanied with few violent




530               MAJOR ALEXANDER.
symptoms, on the 7th day of September, 1852. Though the
nature of her malady prevented her from much expression of
her views, she has left her lamenting family fully confident
of her Christian character and eternal peace.
The surviving children of Dr. Alexander are six sons
and a daughter. Of the sons, three are ministers of the
Gospel, two are lawyers, and one is a physician. In addition
to changes already mentioned, it only, remains to be said,
that the last of Dr. Alexander's brothers, Major John Alexander, of Lexington, departed this life in 1853, while these
labours were near their end. We annex a tribute to his
memory, from the pen of his pastor, the Rev. Dr. White:
" Major Alexander was the son of Winm. Alexander, Esq.,
of Rockbridge, Virginia, and brother of the late Dr. Alexander,
of Princeton. He enjoyed the benefit of early religious instruction, and from his early youth was remarkable for integrity, industry, enlightened economy, and true benevolence.
These virtues rendered him successful in getting an ample
estate, and what was far better, gave him an unusual hold on
the confidence and love of the community in which his whole
life was passed. Iis high moral qualities were the result of
religious training and religious principle. At an early period
of life, he embraced Christ as he is freely offered in the Gospel, and served him as a member of the Presbyterian Church
for more than fifty, and as a Ruling Elder for forty-seven
years. His devotion to the Church of Christ was enlightened,
warm and generous. He had long been the senior Elder in
a Session of twelve members. He was no less active and
liberal in his efforts to promote the cause of sound learning.




MAJOR ALEXANDER.                531
As the generous friend, and senior member of the Board of
Trustees of VVashington College, his memory is held in grateful remembrance. The same is also true of the relations he
sustained and the part he acted toward the Ann Smith Female Academy of this place. He served his country with
unswerving fidelity as an officer, in the War of 1812, and
for many years as Brigade Inspector for Western Virginia.
" In a word, the various relations he sustained both to the
State and to the Church, the true patriotism, the sterling
integrity, the eminent good sense, the modest, but enlightened and warm piety with which the high duties, flowing
from these relations, were all discharged, render his death a
very great public calamity.
" Although he had reached the seventy-eighth year of his
age, he had retired from none of the active duties of lifefor,'his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated.' No
one ever thought of the'good Major,' as he was familiarly
called, as an old man. Though old in years, he was young
in spirit. He possessed the wisdom of the one beautifully
blended with the vivacity of the other. Whether you met
him in the social circle or the street, at the prayer-meeting or
in the great congregation, you were always cheered by the
cloudless sun-light which his peaceful spirit threw over his
benignant face. Never did there live and die a man whose
hospitality, both to friends and to strangers, was more unpretending and generous. His house was the home of all
who ever sought and deserved his confidence. He was literally happy in contributing to the happiness of others.



532              MAJOR ALEXANDER.
Thousands scattered all through the States of this Confederacy, yet live to testify to the truth of this statement.
" His lonely widow, with three sons and two daughters,
survive in deepest affliction. They mourn-the Church, the
whole community mourn, but not as they who have no hope.
Full of years, yet strong in faith, he has gone to join his
distinguished brother, his estimable, pious sister, who so recently preceded him, and with them to make a part of that
great multitude which no man can number, who are before
God's throne,'having washed their robes and made them
white in the blood of the Lamb.'
" He died of apoplexy. Consequently his fall was sudden,
but it was safe. He was not called to endure protracted pain
and sickness; nor were his loved family called to suffer from
prolonged solicitude. Like Enoch he' walked with God, and
he was not; for God took him.' Truly it was much more
like a translation than death."




CHAPTER TWENTIETII.
CONOLUDING SUMMARY.
IN  conducting the narrative part of our labour which has
now been brought to a close, we have chosen to introduce
general sketches of mind and manners, wherever they seemed
to be naturally suggested; and this has made it less necessary to annex a formal and extended delineation of character.
Yet there are some points which require a concluding notice,
such as we shall now attempt in the way of general summary;
with the full conviction that in no part of our task is there so
much danger of being misled by a filial bias. A sense of
this has led us in the preceding chapter to borrow from others
expressions of eulogy much stronger than we durst use in our
own person.
Of those who peruse this narrative some were personally
conversant with him of whom it treats; but of these the
greater part remember only his years of decline. To most
his very figure reappears in memory as bowed down with age.
A small number can recall the image of one who was bright
and buoyant and whose frame beyond most was informed




534:                   PERSON.
with a spirit of life. The universal testimony of aged persons
is that in his youth he possessed a high degree of manly
beauty. His stature, which was precisely five feet and seven
inches, was certainly not commanding, but his limbs were
shapely and well compacted, and the whole impression was
that of symmetrical balance. HIis walk and motions were
too much swayed by the inward pulses of feeling to be either
staid or graceful. But the head was unquestionably one to
be remembered. A high and spacious forehead, receding
into deep angles among an abundance of nutbrown hair, an
eye of dark hazel, a delicately chiseled nose, a mouth of singularly variable expression before the ravages of age had
caused it to fall in, and a complexion of uncommon delicacy
and transparence, combined to produce a physiognomy which
no one of numerous portraits has reproduced. But the dead
face was nothing. There was a lighting up of the speaking
surfaces by the internal glow, which continued long after the
grace of contour and colour had departed.  This was a
large part of that eloquence, which was felt in his conversation and public discourses. The gleam of his piercing eye,
sometimes rapidly roving, but often long fixing itself with a
peculiar search of expression, added indescribably to the effect of what he uttered. And there were times when an
illumination overspread his features, under strong emotion,
which we have very seldom seen. As days advanced, he became more wrinkled and haggard; his teeth were early lost;
and he acquired a stoop in the shoulders. In his latest
years, he had better health and even grew fleshy, but except
the eye and the expression, there was little to remind of his
former self.




HEALTH-MANNERS.                  535
The most formidable threatenings of his health were in
his early life. The middle portion, as we have already stated,
was annoyed by numerous dyspeptic and nervous symptoms,
which caused discomfort rather than alarm. He never had
a greater sense of health than in the years immediately preceding his last illness. This is wonderful, when we recur to
his fixed habit of taking no exercise. He was far from prescribing this method to others, but either some obscure instinct pointed out to him the course which in his case would
conduce to longevity and comfort, or the strength of original
stamina availed to overmaster a series of influences which in
ninety-nine instances out of a hundred would have proved fatal.
We certainly never knew any one who quaffed the cup of
mere physical life with more zest than he, in the moments
when he was exempt from the depressions already often mentioned. And it was delightful cause of thankfulness to their
children that their beloved mother retained to so unusual a
length of days her youthful freshness and animation. They
were early risers and plain livers, but perfectly free from all
dietetic hobbies and whimsies.
In recalling the natural traits and character of Dr. Alexander, all persons seem at once to alight on his remarkable
simplicity. It is a quality which defies description. We
believe that no child could be more free from affectation. It
was no fruit of study, principle or purpose; it was naked nature. In all our lives we never saw any one who so completely did just what he liked; and yet without cynicism or
invasion of others. He was what he appeared to be; if this
gave offence-he could not help it. This naturalness showed




536                    MODESTY.
itself in his dress, his carriage, his gesture, his tones, his
style of writing. In early life he was shy and bashful, and
there was always a discernible trace of this.  Though his
tell-tale face generally revealed his feelings, he had a great
talent of silence. There were some things of which he never
spoke; as of his pecuniary affairs, his invitations to important posts, his devotional exercises, his success in preaching.
Secrets confided to him were buried in the grave.
We suppose him to have been a man of true modesty. Not
only in a sense which we lament to say requires to be recommended-for we believe no one ever heard himn relate a story
which might not have fallen from a virgin's lips-but in the
common acceptation of moralists. He uniformly shrunk into
the back ground. He neither sought praise nor tolerated it;
but this he was wont to ascribe more to a sort of pride than to
humility. He in no instance ran after the great, or addicted
himself to the ministry of the rich and famous, or sat prominent on platforms, or shouldered himself into the van of
popular enterprises. It is believed that he lost nothing in
favour or even reputation by such a reserve.  Men of the
world were often struck by a self-retirement which is so uncommon.  This was well expressed by that great ornament
of the legal profession, George Wood, Esq., of New-York.In speaking of Daniel Webster, this learned jurist and acute
observer says: "The people can distinguish between pride
or ostentation and that kind of retired habit which results
from diffidence or deep reflection. Some of the most retired
men I have ever known have been the most free from vanity
and pride.  Witness the late Dr. Alexander of Princeton,




SOCIAL TRAITS.                 537
one of the most, modest men that ever lived; yet no one
ever approached him without the conviction that he was a
truly great man.":; That he was reserved is certain; that
he was sometimes silent and distant has often been said; but
it ought to be added that in such silence there was no assumption of dignity, and not a vestige of sullenness. When
he shrunk into himself, it was from some great burden on his
spirits; for in the presence of the very same persons he
would suddenly come out of his temporary gloom with a
spring and suddenness as fitful as the moods of infancy. No
man had less of what may be called moroseness.
The kindliness of his temper was known to all with whom
he ever exchanged hospitalities. He was easily pleased, and
even to an extreme ready to be interested in whatever interested a friend. If his host were a farmer, he was untiring in
looking at his grounds, crops and stock; if he were a scholar,
quite as much delighted with his library or his writings.
Every where he was the welcomed friend of children; among
them he became a child himself.  In his own house these
traits of course manifested themselves in a thousand ways
which cannot be exposed to the public. The sacredness of
relation to a beloved wife does not admit of delineation; its
tributes of affection were infinitely above the blandishments
of a juvenile attachment. They were all the world to each
other; and each had that which was complementary of the
other's character. Surely never were there children on happier terms with their parents. They reverenced their father,
* Speech of George Wood, Esq., before a Committee of the friends of
Daniel Webster, New-York, May 1852, page 10.




538                   BENIGNITY.
but their approach to him was perfectly free. His door was
always open, and he listened to every childish report and
narrative, with a burst of unaffected glee such as they never
can forget or see again. In earlier years he joined in their
sports, and he never grew too old to be as loquacious as
themselves about all their innocent pleasures. When one
of them entered his study-always without a signal-how
gaily, how brightly, would he look around from his pen or
his book; and how would the smile caused by any little domestic story irradiate his face, even when he went on with
his labour! There. was nothing in his character which so
much caused his loss to be felt in the circle of his intimates
as this unfeigned sympathy with what was interesting to
those arouiri him. It was an intense humanity, which enlivened all his words, gestures and acts. This kept him to the
very close freely acquainted with passing events, as well of
the village and neighbourhood as of the Church and world.
It shone out in his regards for his pupils. Every new student was reported at the fireside. He habitually looked on
them all with a benignant allowance, and took no pleasure in
descanting on their faults; indeed his judgment of them
leaned towards the side of undue favour. He followed them
in their wanderings, and met them after the lapse of years
with hearty and often loud salutations. From all this it
may be gathered that in his brighter days, and these were
the more numerous, he lived in a perpetual state of genial
animation. The reverse was always to be traced to physical
causes, and to the morbid susceptibility of a temperament
suspended on nerves which trembled at a breeze. Connected




NATURAL POWERS.                 539
with this exuberance of feeling was the childlike sincerity
and transparent candour, which did not even know how to
adopt a mask. If the playfulness of his evening hours admitted of description, it would add unusual colours of interest to our imperfect sketch. These peculiarities often
surprised new acquaintances, who had previously known him
only from his works, and who approached him as a man of
learning and a grave divine.
The mental elasticity of which we have spoken had its
share in all the labours of his research and all his attainments of knowledge.  In new fields he evinced for many
years the inquisitiveness of boyhood. According to the report of his friends, this was what attracted the attention of
his teachers whikl he was in early youth. It is true they
descried also the promise of faculties which were yet to be
developed. His powers seem to have attained maturity in
the morning of his life. No extravagance or indiscretion has
been charged upon his language or preaching at the age of
nineteen. To estimate the quality and force of his mind with
entire justice, would demand perhaps a biographer of fewer
prepossessions. We think we reflect the opinions of other
and wise judges, when we ascribe to him natural powers
much above the common order. In no other way can we
account for his having emerged so early into general esteem,
not to say admiration, from amidst an unlettered circle and
in.the face of great difficulties. Whatever position he attained was without his own seeking; and as truly without
the adventitious aids of variegated diction and oratorical display; and this position was more firmly held in the estimate
of none than of those who knew him most. closely.




540              HABITS OF THOUGHT.
From his earliest days his memory was remarkable, as
we have had occasion to say before. It was not however the
memory of words or any conventional signs.  But in regard
to faces, localities, historical events, the opinions of authors
and classes of men, the sources of knowledge, and above all
whatever was held together by a logical thread, his recollection almost surpassed belief. We have heard him say that
any interpretation of a biblical passage, if once fixed in his
mind, never left it. To this may be added acuteness and
perspicacity, in regard to obscure and entangled objects and
their intricate relations.  The patience of his investigation
on such subjects was very great. He loved to ponder long,
without book or pen, and often with eyes closed or in darkness, upon the trains of metaphysical and theological argument, which afterwards became the staple of his instructions.
This persistency of meditation was the more wonderful in
one who was so much moved by impulse and so given to ardent sallies. If we understand the term, he was eminently
a close thinker. He weighed his terms, as the instruments
of thought, and dwelt long on the sequence of apparently
clear propositions. Hence he was slow in coIning to his conclusions on important matters.  He recommended and practised the survey of a wide field in order to safe inductions.
To mental labours so arduous he was prompted by a sincere
love of truth. And the consequence was, that if he attained
a reputation for any one quality, it was sound judgment.
Whatever may have been ascribed to him, he was never accused of rashness in the formation of his opinions. After
such processes, it was natural that he was not subject to hasty




DILIGENCE.                  541
changes. His system of philosophy and theology took its
form early in life, and was avowed by him with firmness on
his dying bed. When his thoughts were brought to bear on
practical matters and questions of action, the same qualities
displayed themselves, in the way of what is justly denominated
wisdom. We have already observed that he was largely ho.
noured as a sound adviser.
In the beginning of his ministry his discourses displayed
a rich vein of imagination. Nothing would more exhibit
the fertility of his invention, than the work of fictitious narrative to which allusion has been made. In his printed
works there are few traces of this power. But when he
preached in the free method which was most familiar to him,
he would sometimes expatiate in descriptive flights which
carried away his hearers. The characteristic caution of his
mind, however, had early put him on his guard against the
seductions of a faculty which however important, often works
mischievous disturbance where the discovery of truth is in
view; he therefore unquestionably pushed forward the discipline of his thoughts most signally in the direction of intellectual research and ratiocination.
Enough has been said to show that his diligence was
unwearied, until the very end of his course, and that he fell in
the harness. He was always a busy man. None can remember him as ever idle or ever lounging. It was only
when overtaken by the debility of age that he ever was accustomed to assume a reclining posture during the day, still less
did he ever nod in his chair. From morning till night, year
after year, when not engaged in devotion or some social in



542                 ATTAINMENTS.
tercourse, he was reading or writing. Every one marvelled
that his organs could hold out. His vacations were not less
occupied than the regular terms of study.
There appears to be a discrepance of statement among
his friends, as to the nature and amount of his attainments;
as these have been looked at from different points of view.
Some have declared them to have been deep rather than extensive; others have reversed the statement. Those who
knew them best regard both as true, in a certain sense.
From his great avidity of knowledge and the rare versatility
of his tastes and faculties, he was all his life a reader in various fields. With the exception of the modern languages
and natural history, we know of no branches of science or
literature which he did not cultivate, at some time or other.
But in these widely separate domains he did not pretend to
make exact or technical progress; in these therefore his researches could not be said to be profound.  In a certain
round of sciences, however, he penetrated with a thoroughness and minute accuracy of detail which it would be difficult to exaggerate. We refer to the Scriptures, to theology
in all its parks, and to the preparations and auxiliaries of
these.  The Philosophy of the Mind and Moral Science
were his perpetual study. On these he constantly exercised
his thoughts; and if there was any department of knowledge
in which he excelled, it was the observation of his own
mental states and exercises.  In regard to this branch of
philosophy, he was acquainted with all that could be obtained
from ancient and modern authors, and was able with distinctness to rehearne the tenets of masters and of schools.




COLLOQUIAL TALENT.               543
Of his long continued studies in theology we have already
given some account. Scarcely less versed was he in history,
both civil and ecclesiastical. To which may be added his
attainments in bibliography, physical and political geography, and in politics and general law as connected with
morals. On all these matters, the only wonder is, that the
mass of his reading had not overwhelmed the original vigour
of his understanding. In all these his attainments may be
declared to have been profound.
In the communication to others of all that he knew he
took great delight, as has been stated in the narrative. So
far as we know, there is but one testimony as to his colloquial powers. He was not a perpetual or an exacting talker.
There were days when his mouth was sealed; and in his
free moments he had also his times of reserve. He never
allowed himself to become the haranguer of a coterie, and in
large companies was with difficulty drawn out. When he
did speak, it was without the tone or mien of the orator.
Yet thousands will remember the instructive entertainment
and awakening derived from his colloquial flow. This was
chiefly opened in his own family circle, and at the houses of
his friends. The peculiar hilarity and rapidity and variety
of his household discourse can scarcely be represented; in
his later days he had strong points of resemblance in these
respects to Mr. Gallatin and Chancellor Kent.  There were
the same sudden transitions and the same dashes of humour.
At times, when he gave himself scope and yielded to strong
emotion, these utterances were scarcely different from his
great pulpit efforts. As he evidently talked for the simple




544                 CONVERSATION.
purpose of unbosoming his present sentiments, the range of
his remark was extensive; he talked of every thing that interested him, but chiefly of that which had last awakened
his mind. The most serious studies of the morning were
often given out in distillation to his household and friends.
He rehearsed the history of his contemporaries and the
stirring news of the day. But he gave himself up to the
current of topics, and seldom forced his own subject on
others. It was his universal practice to converse with visitors on those things with which they were most familiar. By
this means he enabled them to show their best side, while he
was gaining stores of varied information, in regard to new
countries and remote places and people. When a clergyman
or a new student came from some region concerning which
he knew little, this examinatory process was sometimes carried on for hours; and the results were sure to be given out
again with minuteness and animation, at the next fireside
meeting. Indeed such was his love of communicating with
his friends, that in these cases he would often come with immense haste and glowing features into the parlour, and with
pen in hand keep the floor for a good half hour in relating
the cheering intelligence; darting back to his books with an
amusing precipitation.
His sense of the ludicrous was acute; hence he was a
delightful listener to all entertaining visitors, and a hearty
laugher of the best old school.  Dr. Rice, himself a very
grave man, Dr. Speece, Dr. John Breckinridge and Dr.
Young, possessed a great power over his feelings in this respect. The number of visitors in his study was so large as




CONVERSATION.                 545
often to become a sort of levee, at which whole forenoons
were consumed, in the most cheerful intercourse; nor did he
ever consider this as lost time, always preferring the converse
of the living to that of the dead. The humblest callers at
his door, not excepting beggars, engaged him in long and
animated dialogues. These were frequently wound up with
an extended and pungent exhortation to the new comer.
There was an old stroller, who came at short periods, and received a frown at many a house, but who always found Dr.
Alexander ready to question and advise him. One of his
choicest refreshments was to chat with children, and he had
the faculty of winning their confidence in a moment. It
was very uncommon for the hours of meals to be passed
without free and full conversation. It is hardly needful to
say that none of these colloquies disclosed -any desire of display. He was a great questioner, it must be confessed, but
not with a view of either gauging or puzzling others; it was
to increase his own stores, and he was always inquiring and
always learning. Of set and formal religious conversation
he practised little. Religion transpired through all his words
and looks. Occasional remarks of a spiritual kind were ever
and anon thrown in. When his heart was full, it ran over
the brim; but he relied little upon studied exhortations in
ordinary circles. In private he often, almost daily, discoursed
to individuals on the most sacred and confidential parts of
experimental religion. To the doubting, desponding and bereaved, he was always a soothing and welcome visitor. By
the bedside of those who were ill or dying, he attained an
elevation of consolatory power which has made many such




546                  PREACHING.
occasions memorable for a lifetime. The tenderness of his
heart made him a reluctant reprover; but when he opened
his lips for this purpose his words were keen and scorching,
often we suppose beyond his intention. It is to be added,
that his love of conversation and his social faculties abode
in perfect strength, until he was on the very verge of the
grave.
From his conversation the transition is easy to his preaching, which was, more than can be said of most, an expansion
of his ordinary discourse.  It is a topic which we have
touched upon more than once; our purpose now is only to
gather together a few additional remarks and reminiscences.
The true notion of Dr. Alexander's preaching will not be obtained, unless we consider elevated conversation as the root
out of which it grew. Protract the remarks, enlarge the
circle of auditors, give correspondent stimulation to mind
and feeling, and all the rest follows of course. Though a
theologian, and that of the sterner and stricter sort, he did
not deliver theological lectures from the pulpit. Formal and
elaborate argumentation on doctrinal points was not common
in his sermons. It is true, he expounded and defended the
great doctrines of the faith, but it was in a method which
was homiletical and popular, rather than scholastically didactic. Nothing could be more unlike his doctrinal sermons
than the dry and attenuated diatribes of certain metaphysical
divines of the last century. It was the Scottish school of
sermonizing which he most nearly approached; varieties of
which may be studied in Finley, Davies and Waddel. Even
when his object was to establish doctrine, he preferred the




rREACHING.                     547
textual method. His division and treatment of the subject
were generally governed by the text. Any figure which it
contained was apt to colour the whole discourse.
There is a testimony here to be added, which from the
eminent source from which it flows will not fail to command
the respect of every reader. It is from Joseph Henry, LL. D.,
the Secretary of the Smithsonian Institute.>
PROFESSOR HENRY TO THE AUTHOR.
"SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, WASHINGTON,
January 31, 1854. f
" MY DEAR SR:" Your letter requesting my recollections of your lamented father was duly received, but a pressure of business connected with the annual meeting of the Board of Regents
has prevented me from answering it before this evening.
" It gives me much pleasure to recall to my mind the
first discourse I heard him deliver. It was a simple and apparently unpremeditated exposition of truths highly important to the young, and admirably adapted to the students of
the college to whom it was addressed.  I say apparently unpremeditated, though it must have been the result of much
previous reflection in the way of settling definitely in his
mind important general principles.
"I think Dr. Alexander had a remarkable faculty of philosophic generalization, and it was this that made him em* This admirable letter, though pertinent here, would have found its
exact connection better at an earlier place; but it came to our hands
while this very page was going through the press.




548             PHILOSOPHICAL HABITS.
phatically a full man. He was enabled to discourse by the
hour, not from mere memory, but in the way of deduction
from the general truths which he had made his own, and
which he was in the habit of applying to the conduct and duties of life. For example-in the discourse to which I have
alluded; he discussed the great principle of the permanency
of early impressions upon the character, of the philosophy
of habit, the importance of a good reputation commencing
with the boy, of the negative influence of a single bad act
committed in a moment of thoughtlessness which might
neutralize almost a life of benevolent action; of the influence possessed by every individual, and of the responsibility
connected with it.
"He had studied in early life the subject of mental philosophy, and had adopted the principles of the inductive
method. AlR ideas he considered as derived from sensation
or consciousness, and without attempting to explain the essence of mind or of matter, he contented himself with a
knowledge of the laws of their phenomena, and with referring these to the will of the Creator of the universe. All
knowledge superior to this was derived from revelation, the
truths of which, however mysterious and beyond reason, he
adopted with implicit confidence. He was much interested
in all questions of physical science, and particularly in the
researches in which I was engaged.'All his conceptions of
truth were simple and clear. His was not a mere speculative
faith, or a theoretical system of Christian duty, but one
which was eminently reduced to practice. He taught by his
example as well as by his precepts, and his influence will




THE GOSPEL.                  549
long live after him, not only in his published works, but in
the memory of his pupils, and in its effect on the character
and conduct of all who enjoyed the pleasure and profit of his
quaintance.
" I consider it one of the most happy circumstances of
my life, that I was permitted so long to enjoy the acquaintance and friendship of so good and so great a man, and to
live under his influence.
"I remain, very truly, your friend and servant,
" JOSEPH HENRY."
Experimental, casuistical, practical, consolatory preaching, may be said to have been the field of his strength. In
dissecting the heart, unravelling long trains of experience,
discovering hidden refuges, holding the mirror up to selfdeceiving souls, and flashing rays of gracious hope on the
lingering and self-righteous, he was equalled by few. He
gloried in preaching a free Gospel. The longer he lived, the
more wide, cordial and generous was his offer of Christ to
the chief of sinners. Not for an instant was he ever tempted
to join with those who, because of the abuses of Antinomianism, would tamper with sovereign boundless gratuitous salvation, or hang legal weights on the wings of ascending faith. So high a value did he set upon the maintenance
of an awakened interest among hearers, that he never entered on any avowed series of discourses, or wearied out his
auditors by numerous sermons on the same text. Here his
practice concurred with the reported remarks of Cecil, in
his Remains.  The strong historical, we might even say




550             MODE OF PREPARATION.
biographical turn of his mind, led him to dwell much on
scriptural personages. Surviving hearers will remember his
portraitures of Abraham and Joseph, of Ruth, Eli and Hannah, of Josiah and Daniel, of Paul and John. In connection with the same trait, he was uncommonly large in his
delineation of individual types of Christian life, or what may
be called characteristic preaching. Here he evinced his delicate acquaintance with the anatomy of saint and sinner.
The outline was firm and unmistakable, and the hues bright
and decided.  Such pictures of particular experience dwell
in the recollection of his hearers, who often felt the probe
entering their consciences to the very quick. To sum up
what concerns the matter of his preaching, he set forth the
whole system of Divine truth, with a felicitous mixture of
doctrine and experience; not separately but intimately
blended; the didactic warp being traversed by a woof of
variegated emotion; the steel links of reasoning being often
red with the ardours of burning love.
Modes of preparation for preaching are always matter of
lively interest to preachers; and it is wonderful how much
they differ. Dr. Alexander was never accustomed to tell of
his own ways, or to enjoin them upon others. Perhaps he
was extreme in his disposition to let every man "scuffle
through his experiment," as he used to call it, so as to alight
on the plan which was best for himself. His written sermons were his later ones. For the most part they were the
reproduction of trains of thought which he had arranged in
his head many years before. It is not known that his mode
of bringing these to paper had any thing peculiar. He was




PREMEDITATION.                 551
fond of saying, that if he wished to produce a discourse better than common, on a new subject, he should like to write
away as fast as he could, and even voluminously.  This he
called getting the rock out of the quarry. During this process he thought two good results were pretty sure to ensue.
One was that the writer would strike on some " rich vein"
(another of his phrases) out of which he might draw the
chief wealth of his discourse; the other was, that he would
find the rudiments of a method and partition emerge out of
this at first chaotic mass. Then, and not till then, he thought,
the arrangement should be completed; and then he would
sit down and put the sermon into its final form, by an entire
new writing. This device no doubt'originated in his longpractised method of thinking long and arduously on the
topics which he meant to discuss without notes. His written sermons however are but the bony structure of his preaching; they lack the illustrations, descriptions, flight and pathos of his freer productions.
It has been said, even to repetition, that his chosen
method of preparation was independent of the pen. Mr.
Gallatin once said to us: " I know nothing of what is called
growing warm in writing. In my most elaborate speeches,
I have prepared the matter mentally; and when I have had
to write, I have frequently walked up and down the floor,
and collected my material and given it shape and diction,
just as if I were speaking off-hand." In our belief, this
would be a just description of Dr. Alexander's experience.
Long and silent meditation preceded his great efforts.  In
this he declared that he dismissed all consideration of the




552                 PREPARATION.
language to be employed, deliberately thinking that this
would suggest itself best during delivery. Neither did he
prearrange the exact sequence of sentences or even of. propositions; leaving the mind free to work in new directions while
speaking. He used to declare that he preferred not to burden his mind with the recollection of a single expression
which had occurred to him in his study. Such was his faculty of abstraction and concentration, that these preparatory
lucubrations were conducted in walking, riding, or even sitting
among his children. He would say laughingly that he often
could think to most purpose, when there was a little clatter
of voices around him. Hence it was surprising to observe
how little he shut himself up before preaching; when he did
so, it was with a devotional end in view. He was a great
advocate of habitual, as distinguished from special preparation. His individual sermons were chapters from a very copious volume in his head. Though he seldom spoke of these
things, he once told us, that being about to preach on a text
from that part of Scripture, he had rapidly perused the whole
epistle to the Hebrews; and at another time that he had in
like manner read the whole Gospel of John over in Greek,
on the Sunday morning. On a single point, our recollections
vary from those of some authorities to whom we defer with
high respect. It strikes us that in general, he not only divided his subject with distinctness, but declared the heads of
his argument. The other mode we regard as the exception
to his common rule. This is confirmed by a reference to his
printed sermons and his manuscripts. He knew very little
medium between reading closely, and speaking without any




SOLEMN VIEW OF THE WORK.              553
notes. The bit of paper which he usually laid on the Bible
scarcely deserves the name. It was seldom of more than
ten lines, and was often not looked at; indeed he said that
he used it as a precaution against a total loss of memory as
to text, topic and plan, which used to befall him in his
younger days. These scraps of writing were not intended as
aids in preparation. We have no knowledge of his ever
using what is called " a full brief."  He frequently ceased to
read what he had prepared, and interpolated new trains of
argument which occurred to him, and in other cases even did
not return to his manuscript at all. This was true in regard
to some of his most effective sermons, which were thus drawn
out to as much as ninety minutes.
He never seemed to look on preaching from its literary or
rhetorical side. To him it was a high spiritual function,
and he approached it with much of the awe which had attended his first efforts. It is believed that some trepidation
preceded every discourse which he delivered; as Luther reports concerning himself. Far more than is common, and
beyond what he ever explicitly declared, he seems to have
believed in special aids, elevations and illuminations, conferrecl on the preacher during his delivery of the message;
such afflatus from the Spirit he was accustomed to distinguish from the personal graces of the preacher. These impressions doubtless brought his mind into a state highly susceptible of those gusts of sudden feeling, which sometimes
swayed not only himself, but whole assemblies. Perhaps
this, rather than any rhetorical canon, led him invariably to
begin his discourse in the most simple, subdued, and if we




554                      STYLE.
may so speak, expectant manner.  It was the tone of' ordinary conversation on an important subject.  Hardly any
thing could be augured from  his beginning.  He allowed
himself to rise and glow in a manner almost imperceptible
As might be expected, he did not always soar; but whenL he
did, it was without effort and without abruptness.  As he
kindled, his language became more vivid, ornate, and powerful.; it even acquired an elegant fitness and accuracy, which is
not found in his writings.  Towards the close of his greatest
sermons, the audience was usually in a state of rapt attention; nothing was more common than for people to say that
they would gladly have listened to him all day.
The style of his more impassioned preaching was indescribably warmer and more coloured than any thing -which
he has left in writing. Yet it was always simple, and cannot be better described than in words which Dr. Arnold uses
of his own: " I am sure an attempt at ornament would make
my style so absurd, that you would yourself laugh at it. I
could not do it naturally, for I have now so habituated myself to that unambitious and plain way of writing, and absence of Latin words as much as possible, that I could not
write otherwise without manifest affectation."  In his most
elevated passages Dr. Alexander never indulged in the sweep
of periodic and climacteric sentences. And as his style, such
was his delivery.  Gesture was forced from him, and was not
undulatory or studiously graceful; he had no dread of the
abrupt or the angular in his motions.  Those who speak of
his voice as shrill, must be governed by the remembrance of
later days, when he could make himself heard firthest in his




MANNER.                     555
upper notes. In youth and in his prime, his tones were silvery
and his modulation exceedingly varied. The lower and even
whispering modes of speech were often very effective. His
inflections, especially at the close of sentences, were all his
own, and were unlike those laid down in the books; it was
an attempt to reproduce these which made some of his imitators quite ridiculous.  The language of his eye was extraordinary, even to a proverb. He was wont to fix his glance
on individual hearers, with a penetration which often prodl:ced painful shrinking. We have no remembrance of ever
seeing him weep in preaching, even when almost a whole assembly was in tears. The impression upon his hearers was
at times so extraordinary, that we do not allow ourselves to
describe it in detail.  One quality was never absent, whether
he was gently familiar or suddenly impetuous; he maintained the unbroken interest of the assembly, however long
he spoke.  He once said of Summerfield, whom he greatly
admired, that this wonderful young orator possessed the art
of keeping up fixed attention and awakened expectation;
and that it consisted in passing rapidly from point to point,
never dwelling on a thought when once it was fully lodged,
never beating his material too thin, and thus never allowing
the hearer's mind to get before him. It may be inferred
from this that he depended little on rhetorical amplification.
The beautiful illustrations which sometimes arose like visions
before his audience, seldom held them long; but he often
added scene to scene with a felicity which was above all art,
and which was evidently the result of thoughts suggested
at the moment.  It was manifest from his manner, that in




556               PERSONAL RELIGION.
addition to all he had preconceived, his mind was working
strongly in new directions, while he was in the act of speaking. At such times his eye would fix itself on vacancy, or
on some distant object, revealing by its peculiar expression
that he had almost lost sight of his audience, and was expatiating  in tracks of original musing.  But we despair of
conveying any precise notion of his peculiar manner to
those who never heard hiam in the day of his unbroken
physical vigour; especially as we cannot suppose that our
ears were not held by the fascination of a filial partiality
which cannot be largely shared, and which must be our excuse if we overstate the case.
In the period when he made preaching his great business,
his labours were every where owned of God to the awakening
and conversion of many souls; and all through his life such
tokens were granted to him from time to time.  Yet it is
believed, that his work was far more remarkable in edifying
the body of Christ, simplifying and enforcing the statements
of doctrine, removing scruples, nourishing faith, stimulating
to holy life, and consoling the tempted and distressed. In
these fields, the effects of his labours, being more remote
fiom public notice, are beyond all calculation, and must be
left for the disclosures of the other world.
In closing our survey, we may be expected to say
something of his personal piety; yet nowhere have we
so much felt the burden of our task.  If the general
tenour of this narrative has not set him forth as one who
was eminently sanctified, we should fail to reach this
end by heaping up assertory declarations. If, as a genial




DEVOTION-PRUDENCE.               557
writer has said, "we should be modest for a modest man,
as he is for himself,"-reserve on this point is the more
demanded; for of all the human beings we ever knew he
was the most silent about his own personal experience.
At certain times he entered into his closet, and shut the
door, but in what manner he conducted his private exercises,
no mortal, we believe, is competent to relate. In these
hours he is thought to have made more use than is common
of the original Scriptures. He had a way of chanting to
himself the Hebrew Psalms; for many years using for this
purpose a beautiful psalter, which was the gift of Dr. Hodge.
From what was observed by his family, and from what he
recommended to others, it is supposed that he spent much
time in deliberate spiritual contemplation. His piety was to
a remarkable degree blended with his system of truth. In
his mind doctrine and experience were inseparable. This
was consistent with the high place which he always assigned
to spiritual understanding and to faith. He observed frequent days of entire seclusion, sometimes adding an abstinence which was almost rigorous.
Prudence was a prominent trait inihis character. That
this did not sometimes degenerate into excessive solicitude
and caution, we will not assert. The courage of adventurous
daring, he possessed in his youth. The courage which enabled him to maintain his judgments, not only against all
opponents but often against all friends, he might well claim
all his days. It was kindred to his great sincerity, candour
and love of truth. In his most unguarded moments, he
was never known to exaggerate a statement. tIe was free




558            HUMIILITY- —.BEE  VOLENCE.
from censoriousness of judgment, and scrupulous in speaking
evil of any human being.  Hence he passed a long life,
almost absolutely free from strife with any fellow-creature.
If he had enemies, they are unknown to us. In all the
circle of his acquaintance he was not more truly reverenced
than loved.
Of nothing did he seem so much in dread as of pride.
From numerous indirect statements, we judge it to be what
he regarded as his easily besetting sin. Its outward manifestations were however as rare in him  as in any man.  It
seems to us that his whole life was an arduous study of humility.  While he was burdened with a sense of indwelling
sin, he was eminently free from doubts as to his own acceptance with God.  Though he never said so, we are persuaded
that his habitual state of mind was one of confirmed assurance. His conversation, sermons and books show that he
set the highest value on personal communion with the Lord
Jesus Christ, as the very heart of religion and happiness.
On this subject, his sentiments often arose to a blissful rapture; something of which he was enabled to communicate to
others
As practice is the great criterion of piety, we may confidently refer to this.  His whole life wvas spent in an endceavour to do as much good as was within his power. WVithout
unduly lifting the domestic veil, it would be impracticable
to represent how gentle, how tender, how sympathizing,
how anticipative of every emergency, how laborious, how
delicate and yet how faithful, he was to those who were
nearest to him.  This kindliness extended itself to a wide




CONCLUSION.                  559
circle. He was perpetually teeming with plans for the good
of mankind. His inventive faculty, in regard to charitable
schemes, was a striking trait in his character. A bare survey
of the books and papers which he wrote, and the manner in
which he applied his learning, suffices to show the benevolence of his soul.
There is reason to believe that durinfg most of his life he
suffered from inward struggles and temptations.  Yet again
and again did he come forth from his study radiant with
spiritual refreshment.  His religion was characteristically
composing and tranquil. As he advanced in years he became
more and more happy; until at the very close he was happiest of all. In those last hours his lips were unsealed on
many points concerning which he had been as silent as the
grave; and he revealed some glimpses of that "secret of the
Lord" which had been his portion for years. All was symmetrical and consistent, and hence one of the chief difficulties of description. Of his entire course there was nothing
more true to nature and to grace than its close. The intelligent tranquillity which there reigned was beyond any powers
of recital.  MARK THE PERFECT MAN, AND BEHOLD THE
UPRIGHIT; FOR THE END OF THAT MAN IS PEACE.




PUBLICATIONS.
The following is as complete a list as our memory enables
as to produce, of those books and pamphlets of which Dr.
Alexander can justly be considered as the author.
A Sermon at the opening of the General Assembly.
Philadelphia, 1808.
A Discourse occasioned by the burning of the Theatre in
the City of Richmond, Va., on the 26th of December, 1811.
Philadelphia, 1812. pp. 28.
An Inaugural Discourse delivered at Princeton. NewYork, 1814.
A Missionary Sermon before the General Assembly.
Philadelphia, 1813.
A Brief Outline of the Evidences of the Christian Religion. Princeton, 1825. 12mo.
The Canon of the Old and New Testaments ascertained;
or the Bible complete without the Apocrypha and Unwritten
Traditions. 12mo.
A Sermon to Young Men, preached in the Chapel of the
College of New Jersey. 1826.




PUBLICATIONS.                561
Suggestions in Vindication of Sunday Schools. Philadelphia, 1829.
Growth in Grace.  Two Sermons in the National
Preacher. New-York, 1829.
A Sermon before the American Board of Commissioners
for Foreign Missions. 1829.
A Selection of Hymns, adapted to the Devotions of the
Closet, the Family and the Social Circle, and containing
subjects appropriate to the Monthly Concerts of Prayer for
the success of Missions and Sunday Schools. New-York,
1831. (Seven hundred and forty-two hymns.)
The Pastoral Office. A Sermon preached in Philadelphia,
before the Association of the Alumni of the Theological Seminary at Princeton, May 21, 1834. Philadelphia, 1834. pp. 30.
The Lives of the Patriarchs. American Sunday School
Unlion. 1835. 18mo. pp. 168.
History of Israel. 12mo.
The House of God Desirable. A Sermon in the Presbyterian Preacher. 1835.
The People of God led in Unknown Ways. A Sermon
preached May 29, 1842, in the First Presbyterian JChurch,
Richmond. 1842.
An Address delivered before the Alumni Association of
Washington College, Va., on Commencement Day, June 29,
1843. Lexington, 1843.
Biographical Sketches of the Founder and Principal
Alumni of the Log College; together with an Account of
the Revivals of Religion under their Ministry. Princeton,
1845. 12ino. pp. 369.




562                 PUBLICATIONS.
A History of Colonization on the Western Coast of Africa. Philadelphia, 1846. 8vo. pp. 603.
A History of the Israelitish Nation, from their origin to
their dispersion at the destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans. Philadelphia, 1852. 8vo. pp. 620.
Outlines of Moral Science. New-York, 1852. 12mo.
pp. 272.
Introduction to Matthew Henry's Commentary.
Introduction to Works of the Rev. William Jay.
Introduction to Dr. Waterbury's Advice to a Young
Christian.
The following books and tracts, as well as some of those
mentioned above, are issued by the Presbyterian Board of
Publication.
Practical Sermons; to be read in Families and Social
Meetings.  8vo.
Letters to the Aged. 18mo.
Counsels of the Aged to the Young. 18mo.
Universalism false and unscriptural.  18mo.
A Brief Compend of Bible Truth. 12mo.
Divine Guidance; or the People of God led in Unknown
Ways. 32mo.
Thoughts on Religious Experience. 12mo.
The Life of the Rev. Richard Baxter. (An abridgment.)
18rno.
The Life of Andrew Melville. (An abridgment.) 18mo.
The Life of John Knox, the Scottish Reformer. (An
abridgment.)  18mo.'rhe Way of Salvation, familiarly explained in a Conversation between a Father ad1 his ChiM.;:o;  f32,1unr.




PUBLICATIONS.                 563
To which must be added the following Tracts:
The Duty of Catechetical Instruction.
A Treatise on Justification by Faith.
Christ's Gracious Invitation to the Weary and HIeavyladen.
Ruth the Moabitess.
Love to an Unseen Saviour.
Letters to the Aged.
A Dialogue between a Presbyterian and a Friend
(Quaker).
The Amiable Youth falling short of Heaven.
The Importance of Salvation.
Future Punishment Endless.
Justification by Faith.
Sinners Welcome to Jesus Christ.
The following Tracts have been published by the American Tract Society:
The Day of Judgment.
The Misery of the Lost.
THE END.