WT 1 R LTwFff ffMvt V jIMEU * DR WOODS’S -skM ,. W 1 f. t> :/3t iJfjh* -V v All ;• SWB K^j- ‘ W '- $"V u ▼rj j* m u m ® Isa © w i jyV4 . ip™ •'*' i ‘T' >y : k-> 3''P' fcftK ON THE DEATH OF r^iSl - -. 2>. DELIVERED IN THE TABERNACLE CHURCH, SALEM, MASS. July 12, 1821, BY LEONARD WOODS, D. D. ABBOT PROFESSOR OF CHRISTIAN THEOLOGY IN THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, ANDOVER. SALEM : PUBLISHED BY HENRY WHIPPLE. PRINTED BY FLAGG AND GOULD, ANDOVER. / JULY, 1821. - . SERMON. • AND SAMUEL Dlrfb ; AND ALL THE ISRAELITES LAMENTED HIM. 1 Sam. xxv. 1 . Whenever a good man dies, the world sustains a loss. Though he may have lived in a private and obscure condi- tion; there are those who knew the excellence of his char- acter, and must regard his decease as a subject of mourning. But among good^hien, there is an obvious ground of distinc- tion. God has constituted his moral kingdom, as he has the natural body, and the body politic. Though there is but one body, there are many members. And though the mem- bers are all necessary ; some hold a place of higher im- portance than others, and the loss of them is more severely felt. When the apostle touches upon this distinction among Christians he does it for the purpose of stigmatizing a spirit of emulation and envy, and of promoting mutual love and sympathy , and a paramount regard to the good of the whole. And why, brethren, should the difference, which God has made among the members of his spiritual empire, ever ex- cite any other affections, than these ? It surely would not, if we well considered what the difference is. For in 4 truth, that man is marked with the highest distinction , who does the most good. Real greatness consists not in the in- dolent possession of a superior understanding, or superior worldly advantages. Nor does it consist in the most active use of such an understanding, or such advantages, except for the single purpose of doing good. All greatness, all distinction, showing itself in any other way than this, you are at liberty to despise. But if a man is great ip good- ness and in usefulness , you cannot despise him , without des- pising the happiness of your species. His greatness is closely combined with the best interest of the world. If we love the best interest of the world, we shall love the man who promotes it ; and we shall love him most, who promotes it in the highest degree. In the contemplation of that great and blessed object, which benevolence seeks, wc are raised above sell-interest. We foY^et our individ- ual importance ; we forget every thing which makes a personal distinction, either in our own favour, or in favour of others. Let the highest degree of good he accomplished, whether by us or by others as instruments, and we have our desire. The only distinction among men, which is of any real consequence, is that which arises from the degree of their usefulness. Mere intellectual greatness, or mere worldly greatness is indeed an object, to which ambition looks up with impatient aspirations. But what is it in the sight of God ? or in the sight of good men ? It is the greatness of Christian benevolence, that we admire; — it is the greatness, not of the man who has superior mental endowments, but of the man. whose superior mental en- dowments arc all devoted to the cause ol Christ; — the greatness of the man, who, feeling that he is not his own, presents himself a living sacrifice to God, and exists only for the welfare of his kingdom. This is the greatness that disarms hostility, that puts envy to shame, that at- tracts universal love, and that does not moulder in the grave. And this, brethren, is the greatness, which every Christian ought to seek ; and which every Christian will seek, not in proportion to his pride, hut in proportion to his benevolence. • As this character of greatness is of such importance, and has always been regarded as of such importance, in the Christian community ; and as it is inexpressibly desir- able that it should exist far more frequently than it ever has existed hitherto ; I shall think it proper on this occa- sion, to inquire briefly, by what causes, and in what manner such a character is formed. Here I must begin, by ascribing to God all that con- stitutes excellence of character, — all that fits men for dis- tinguished usefulness. In God’s hand it is to make great. He creates and sustains the immortal mind, with all its in- tellectual and moral powers. He creates and sustains the body, with all its vigour and activity. And it is by his Spirit that a man is new-created — “ created in Christ Jesus unto good works/' Every thing which gives discipline and improvement to the understanding or the heart, is from God. Let it be that the powers of the mind are cultivat- 6 ed and strengthened by the diligent use of various natural means. Who appointed those means but God ? And who but God gives a heart diligently to use them, and by his blessing makes that use successful ? Be it so that Chris- tians are sanctified through the truth. It is God that sanc- tifies them in this very way. The truth is his instrument ; and from him comes all its efficacy. When therefore you fix your eye upon a Christian, who exhibits the character of distinguished greatness ; you see the workmanship of God , — the expression of his power and his goodness. Ev- ery Christian is what he is, by the grace of God. To God then be all the glory of those faculties, which distinguish men from the beasts of the field ; of that holiness, which distinguishes Christians from the ungodly ; and of every degree of piety and usefulness, which raises one Christian above another. I say, it is God that makes great. But this, as has been suggested, is not to be understood as in any measure pre- cluding the use of means, or the importance of human ef- forts. We are left here, just as we arc in any other case, to inquire into the process , by which God's design is accom- It is here presupposed that a man possesses the requi- site natural powers, and real goodness of heart. How docs he attain to eminence? The general answer is, by effort ; in other words, by the diligent application of his ac- tive powers to the proper objects of pursuit. It is a principle which I need not take pains to illustrate, that exercise, or repeated effort strengthens all our affections, and powers of action, and confirms all our habits. But the effect ot ex- ercise varies according to circumstances. In the Christian who attains to eminence, the high effect of exercising the intellectual and moral powers may be accounted for in the following way. First. He directs the powers of his mind to a great and worthy object ; the salvation of men — the good of Christ's kingdom. If a man turns his thoughts and labours to the good of his country , his heart grows patriotic and noble. But if he exercises his thoughts and affections upon Christ and his kingdom, the effect on his character will be as much higher, as the glory of Christ and the value of his kingdom are more excellent, than any earthly object. The heart becomes assimilated to the object of its attachment. He that contemplates and loves the glorious character of Christ, is by degrees changed into the same image. He that employs himself in so great a work, as building up the kingdom of Christ, will have his character constantly ennobled by the nature of his employment. He will de- rive a greatness from the greatness of the concern in which he is occupied. Just as, on the contrary, a man contracts the character of meanness , by laying out his thoughts and labours on a mean and contemptible object. But the Christian, who acquires the character of greatness, contemplates the glory of Christ frequently , and 8 pursues the welfare of his kingdom with intense affection. And it is very much in proportion to the frequency of his benevolent and pious efforts, and the strength of feeling with which he makes them, that he experiences a saluta- ry influence upon his own mind. When a man comes to such a state, that the glory of Christ and the precious in- terests of his church are the objects of his steady contem- plation from day to day ; when he finds them present to his thoughts, rising up and lying down ; when they occur spontaneously; when their occurrence is attended with delight ; when other things, which formerly had a place in his mind, in a great measure retire ; when these divine objects get so strong a hold of his thoughts, that no plea- sures, no cares, no sufferings can exclude them ; in short, when his attachment to the cause of Christ becomes his ruling passion, — the main-spring of his conduct ; then, in every thing excellent and praise-worthy he experiences a rapid growth. Whatever is earthly in his nature dies away. His thoughts and affections learn to range in a higher and brighter region. He acquires moral purity, and enlargement, and strength, with a success unknown be- fore. He advances farther towards the elevated charac- ter of just men made perfect, in a few days, than Chris- tians, at the common rate of improvement, in a long life. My brethren, do any of you aim at eminence in Chris- tian piety and usefulness ? Sec here what course you ought to pursue. And sec here the course actually pursued by that distinguished servant of Christ, who has recently 9 been taken from us. Beloved man ! Wherever Ins name is known, not only among those who were personally at- tached to him, hut through the Christian world, it is as- sociated with all that is precious in the cause oh Zion. — With emotions which cannot he uttered, I shall now at- tempt to aid you, in soberly estimating the loss which the world sustains, in the death of so great and good a man. But let none of us forget, that Ins greatness and goodness were the gift of God — the gift of God to his church. Our departed brother w r as, in the best sense, a man of distinguished character. He possessed eminent qualifica- tions, and attained to eminent usefulness. The qualities of his understanding and heart were such, as would have rendered him beloved and useful in any condition. His virtues would have shone even in obscurity. Had he lived a private Christian, in the most retired village ; the inhabitants would have been enlightened by his wisdom, and benefited by his pious example and benevolent ser- vices. Had he lived in days of persecution, and had the power of his enemies immured him in a prison; he possessed intrinsic excellencies of character, which would have shone with a salutary splendour, even there. His meekness and self-government would have checked the impatience of his fellow sufferers ; his affectionate counsels would have im- proved and comforted them ; and the holy ardour of his prayers and praises would have taught them the happi- ness of devotion. 10 But liis peculiar greatness arose from the circumstances in which he was placed , and the relations which he sustained. It is indeed very obvious, that lie had an original structure of mind , exactly suited to the work which God designed lor him. Still it was his situation , — it was his being actu- ally called to his work, and successfully engaged in accom- plishing it, which made known the value of his talents, and led to their highest improvement. In a very important sense, a man is made by circumstances. The period of time when he lives; the particular place where he acts; the dispositions and pursuits of those with whom he is most nearly connected ; the nature of the duties allotted to him, and the degree of early success, by which his sub- sequent labours are animated, all conspire to impart to his character the qualities, which it finally exhibits. Permit me now to glance at some of the leading events in the life of our departed brother, considered sim- ply as contributing to develop his faculties, to form his character, or to constitute his usefulness. I have no doubt that a skilful biographer, well ac- quainted with the early part of Ins life, could easily fix upon a variety of incidents, which tended at once to unfold the peculiar properties of lus mind, and to produce those habits of thought, and feeling, and action, which afterwards became chief ingredients in Ins character. God knows for what service he designs every man; and he frequently gives such a direction to the events of childhood and 1 1 youth, that the peculiar properties of mind, which will be of use in the highest state of advancement and of e (fort in after-life, shall early have opportunity to be exercised and strengthened; and while the man himself and his friends around him know nothing of the matter, God is preparing him for his work ; and preparing him by means, which will afterwards be seen to have been exactly suited to the end, and so will be a subject of grateful acknowledgmeni and admiration. How far this was the case with our departed friend, others can determine, who arc in possession of the requi- site information. My remarks can extend no farther, than to the commencement of his public life. He was first called to discharge the duties of a Chris- tian minister in a situation, attended with some peculiar trials. Those trials were important means of qualifying him for the w r ork, which he had subsequently to perform. No man ever acquires strength and decision of character, without contending with difficulties. If all is smooth and prosperous, the mind contracts inactivity and softness. But the frequent occurrence of straits and sufferings raises a mind, happily constituted, to a high tone of resolution, and prepares it for firmness of purpose, and energy of action. Our brother passed through his first scene of public labour, with high advantage. I will not say that be avoid- ed every mistake; though it would be difficult to name 12 any in particular, with which he was chargeable. Nor will I say, that he did not fall short in any ministerial duty; though there is reason to believe he was remarkable for his diligence and fidelity. Before his removal from his first charge, he gave evidence of uncommon discretion and forethought; of patience and self-control ; of great strength of understanding and integrity of heart, and of a warm, steady attachment to the interests of the church. In the year 1803, he entered on the duties of the ministry in this place. The station was highly important; and it involved duties, which no man, without special qualifications, would have been competent to meet. I need not say, what is well known to the public, that he was uncommonly attentive to his ministerial and pastoral duties. He laboured with wisdom, and zeal, and self-de- nial ; with feelings of tender sympathy and love; with firmness and perseverance. He kept his eye upon the spiritual interests of the church. It was his heart’s desire and constant prayer to God, that sinners might he convert- ed, and believers abound in good works. A revival of religion, which he was permitted more than once to wit- ness as the fruit of his labours, he regarded as the most desirable of all events. As a preacher, he exhibited sound- ness of faith, manly strength of intellect, a cultivated taste, and a warm heart. His preaching was always serious, affectionate, and instructive; frequently animated and im- pressive. His church and people knew, — every parent and every child knew, that he loved their souls, and sought 13 their everlasting welfare. In all cases of difficulty, which occurred in the church or congregation, he was a most ju- dicious counsellor ; in affiiction, a friend, a father, a com- forter. In a general view of his ministry, every one must say, he matsnijicd his ajjicc. It is a rare thing, that a min- ister enjovs, in an equal degree with him, the affection and esteem of his people. Ami I w ish I w ere not obliged to say, that it is a rare thing for a minister, in an equal de- gree, to love the sacred office. There was nothing more distinctly marked in his character, than the strong, perma- nent affection, by which he w r as united to the pastoral work. He cleaved to it, as to his life. You might as easily persuade others to dissolve the dearest domestic relations, as you could have persuaded him to dissolve Ins pastoral relation to the church. With this close adherence of his affections to the holy office, he could not but become more and more assimilated to the objects, with which that office made him conversant. The regular performance of its duties, prompted by his heart, as w r ell as his conscience, and accompanied with emotions so delightful, imparted an increasing sanctity and elevation to his character. He be- came more and more a consecrated man. If I mistake not, it was evident to his intimate friends generally, that, during the last years of his life, he rose much higher than before, in every attribute of an eminent Christian, and an eminent minister of' the gospel. This, I am aw are, is to be ascribed to the effectual operation of God. But God operates through means. And while I would not omit to notice the improvement, which our dear brother doubtless 14 derived from the repeated and severe afflictions, with which he was visited in his own family, and from other dispensations of divine providence ; I cannot but think, that one of the principal means of his improvement was the dil- igence, the affection, and the pleasure, with which he dis- charged the duties of the ministry. The employments of a Christian minister, animated by the true spirit of his of- fice, must contribute, directly and powerfully, to advance him in the exercise of every virtue, and to give him the visible impress of exalted goodness. And as this is the case, it must surely be a minister’s fault, in a sense admit- ting of no alleviation, if, with motives so powerful, and of so high a sanctity, constantly acting upon him, and while executing functions which continually associate him with the Lord Jesus Christ, he still indulges low and grovelling affections, or contents himself with ordinary attainments in piety. But Dr Worcester’s usefulness extended itself beyond J Ins particular charge. His reputation for practical wisdom, and for an acquaintance with the principles and forms of ecclesiastical proceedings in New England, occasioned ver\ frequent applications to him for counsel and assistance. And the public sentiment respecting him was finally such, that scarcely an instance occurred of great difficulty in our churches, where his advice was not earnestly sought. The collected thoughts, the forcible reasoning, the foresight, the decision, which he exhibited in the business of ecclesiastical councils, gave him an unequalled influence over those who 15 agreed with him in principle, while they made him an object of dread, though of honest respect, to his opposers. But by nothing did he more distinguish himself in relation to such concerns, than by his sincere love of peace, and his success in reconciling contending parties, ami in restoring order and tranquillity. The frequent agency he had in the transaction of ec- clesiastical business was itself an important article in the collected sum of his usefulness, and at the same time it contributed to increase all the estimable qualities of his character. It brought him into a closer connexion with the ministers and churches of Christ, made him more fa- miliarly acquainted with their circumstances, and gave him a more lively interest in their welfare. His extraordinary prudence, his ability, his affectionate concern for the order and prosperity of the churches, as well as for the useful- ness of ministers, gained him, in a higher and higher de- gree, the public confidence, and prepared the way for him to enter, with brighter prospects, into a more extensive sphere of public duty. He was distinguished for his ability and success as a defender of divine truth. His feelings were indeed averse to religious controversy ; though the peculiar structure of his mind, and his habit of close, patient thinking qualified him, as has been generally acknowledged, to be a distin- guished controversial waiter. I should think it wholly in- congruous on this occasion, to agitate the question, whether 16 he or his opponents, in any case, had the advantage in ar- gument. 1 leave every man to decide this question for himself. But I think it the least that justice requires of me, to remark, that those who receive the common doc- trines of the New England churches, and of the Reform- ed churches in Europe, must consider it as a special favour of heaven, that they have, I will not say the opinions, but the arguments of Dr Worcester on the grand controver- sy of the present day. A writer possessing such a culti- vated, discriminating mind, as he possessed, —such manly thought, such moderation and candour, united with such earnestness and decision, would be deemed a credit to any cause, in any age of the world. But this assembly well knows, that I have not yet mentioned what chiefly accounts for the elevation of our dear brother’s character, or chiefly constituted the useful- ness of his life. 1 refer to his connexion u'ith the Mission- ary cause; first, with the Massachusetts Missionary Society, of which he was many years Secretary , and afterwards President ; and then finally, and chiefly, with the Foreign Missions from America. — You will not understand me as intending to imply, that there is any office on earth, more exalted and holy, than the Christian ministry, or any object more important than that, which the ministry is designed to promote. The fact is, the Missionary cause is the same as that, which every minister and every Christian labours to promote. It is the same cause, taken in its most extended sense. It is the cause of benevolence, — the 17 cause of Christ, in relation to the whole unevangelized world. And the office which our departed brother tilled, in con- nexion with the Missionary cause, was the office of a Chris- tian minister, in its largest sense. As to the extent of its design, it resembled the office of the apostles, who were commissioned to w go into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.” The office to which 1 allude, was not strictly tliat of a Missionary ; but of a general agent for the missionary cause. Now if I would show you exactly what Dr Worcester was ; if I would fix your eye upon the highest distinction which marked his character ; I must not mention merely his original powers of mind, nor his diligence and success in the acquisition of knowledge, nor his assiduous and acceptable discharge of the duties of a pastor and preacher, nor his useful efforts in regard to the order and prosperity of particular churches, or to the right conduct of our ecclesiastical affairs generally, nor his able defence of the scripture doctrine of the divine glory of Christ ; — I must not stop with any or all of these ; but must present the beloved, the honoured man before you, as Corresponding Secretary of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions. It was for this office he was disignated in the purpose of God. It was for this office, so important and arduous, that all his previous offices and labours and trials contributed to prepare him. It was in this office, that his peculiar talents found room for their most appropriate and perfect exercise. Here he was in his proper place, his element. And here , through the mer- 3 18 cy of God, liis character acquired its brightest and purest lustre. But I wish no man to satisfy himself with these gene- ral remarks. Let the subject be thoroughly examined. No office is of any consideration, except on account of the end, which is to be answered by it. If the office of Cor- responding Secretary was really important, it must have been because Missions to the heathen world are impor- tant. Would you then form a correct judgment of the usefulness of the beloved man, whose death we are called to lament, you must consider the value of that cause , which was so near his heart, and for the promotion of which he exhausted the best energies of his nature. But i^ it necessary for me, in this age of Christian knowledge and Christian effort, to produce arguments to prove the importance and excellence of the Missionary cause ? Arc there any among us, who will award to our departed brother the honour of sincere and pious endeav- ours, but doubt the soundness of his judgment in directing them to the accomplishment of such an end ? Are there any, who can witness the zeal, the liberality, the sacrifices and prayers, which are employed lor the promotion of the Missionary cause, and say, they are all employed in a use- less or doubtful enterprise — the cause they are designed to promote is not worthy of such exertions — and the man who devotes his life to that cause, though he may deserve our candour for his honesty, and our rcsjiect for his talents. 19 and our love for the goodness of his heart, must have our compassion for his weakness ? — Gladly would I remove the doubts and misapprehensions of any who view the cause of missions in such a light. Anti gladly would I re- move the lukewarmness, and excite the active zeal of others, who have better views. Will you then estimate the importance of the Mis- sionary cause, from its grand design ? What is that design, but the salvation of sinners perishing in the darkness of' pa- ganism ? Now are not the souls of men in heathen lands as immortal as ours ? And is not their immortality stamped with as great worth, as ours ? If then we deem it impor- tant that our souls should be saved, and our immortal exist- ence be made happy ; is it not equally important that those, who are bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh in pagan countries, should obtain the same blessings ? Has not all Christendom pronounced that to be an excellent precept, which requires us to love our neighbours as ourselves ? And can any one, who is guided by this rule, and who has any proper regard to his own eternal happiness, think lightly of the eternal happiness of any fellow-creatures ? But if the salvation of the heathen is so important ; no man can question the importance of those efforts, which are directed to the single purpose of furnishing them with the means of salvation, and of making them heirs of all its blessings. — If, indeed, the human race were in such a moral condition, as the lax theology of the day represents ; if men had no de- pravity to be subdued by that power of the Holy Spirit, 20 which attends the preaching of the gospel ; if they had no sins to be pardoned and no pollution to be washed away by atoning blood ; and if those, who have never known the name of Jesus, had as good a prospect of heaven, as any in Christian lands ; we might quiet all our anxieties respect- ing the heathen, and indulge feelings of sincere benevolence towards them, without any efforts for their conversion. And I am very willing to concede, that for those, who deny what we believe to be the doctrines of revelation in regard to the character and prospects of man, it is every way consistent to think the Missionary cause of no value, and to look with the coldest indifference on all that is done to convert the heathen world. But if all men are w by na- ture children of wrath;” and if there is no other name under heaven whereby they can be saved, but the name of Jesus ; and if the preaching of the gospel is the grand, appointed means of bringing men to enjoy that salvation ; then it is utterly impossible to separate the cause of benev- olence from the cause of missions ; and no friend of man can be content, without making every possible exertion to send the gospel to all nations. Did the Son of God deem it necessary to come down from heaven, and suffer and die, to procure salvation for sinners ? And can we deem it of no consequence that they should be made acquainted with that salvation? If Christianity is of any value to us , — if it has done us any good ; it is certainly of as great value to the heathen, and may do as much good to them. Say, was Christianity any blessing to those who were converted by the labours of the Apostles? Was it any blessing to 21 our forefathers in Europe, who, in former ages, were turn- ed from the basest idolatry, and made members of Christ's kingdom ? — Think of the difference between the inhabi- tants of New England, and the people of those countries where pagan ignorance prevails. To what is all this de- ference owing, but to the Christian religion ? And must not those labours be important, which are one day to secure to idolatrous nations all that is precious in our holy religion, and to render them as enlightened, as pious, as happy, as the best Christians here ? Just imagine all the millions of Asia, Africa, and America, who are now in a state of heathenism, actually converted, formed into Christian churches, engaged publicly and privately in worshipping God, observing all the commands and ordinances of the gospel, and living as examples of righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. See parents, once bowing down to dumb idols, and practising the most degrading vices, now walking before their households in uprightness of heart, and bringing up their cliildren in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. See children listening, with weeping tenderness, to the voice of Christian instruction. See angels rejoicing over sinners brought to repentance. See believers abounding in good works ; in the depth of affliction, submitting to God ; in death, rejoicing in hope of eternal glory. Would not such a state be infinitely better, than their present state of stupid idolatry, and of brutal ignorance and wretchedness ? — The friends of the Mission- ary cause are attempting to accomplish all this ; and to accomplish it, not for one generation, but for all genera- 22 tions, to the end of time. Where is the man, that can question the excellence of this attempt ? And who, that loves his fellow-creatures, can refrain from rejoicing in the most distant hope, that the attempt will be successful ? — If there is any thing absolutely to forbid such a hope, then I grant, that the attempts of Christians to convert the world, though prompted by benevolence, would lose their value, and be stamped with folly. But, my brethren, are we forbidden to indulge this hope ? Is the conversion of the heathen world impracticable ? Has not God Almighty power enough to convert them ? Has he not benevolence enough ? Are not the provisions of the gospel sufficiently large and abundant ? Is not the way that is opened to heaven sufficiently broad ? Have not many actually been converted, who were once as far from righteousness, as they ? We indeed believe that men in heathen lands are much more depraved and degraded, and much more disin- clined to embrace the gospel, than the opposers of mis- sions believe them to be. We see more and mightier ob- stacles, than they do, to the success of the Missionary cause. But we find no reason for despair. M ere the difficulties in the way of Christianizing the heathen, arising from the circumstances of heathen society, from heathen customs and manners, from the inveteracy of heathen superstitions, and from that carnal mind which is every-where enmity against God ; — were the difficulties arising from these sources far greater than they arc ; we should still have confident hopes of success; hopes resting, not on the natural tendencies of the heart, nor on the effi- 23 cacy of human persuasion or power to counteract those tendencies ; but on the promise of God, — on the power and faithfulness of God, — on that divine grace, which shows its peculiar excellence, by superabounding where sin hath abounded. Brethren, the conversion of the world, though impossible for man, is an easy work lor God. The conversion of the heathen is as easy, as the conversion of our ancestors was, or as our own conver- sion. It was as great an effort of divine power and divine love to save any of us , as it would be to save stupid idola- ters in the pagan world. And as God is the common Fa- ther of men, and is no respecter of persons; why should we suppose he will confine his special favours to a small portion of our race ? Why should we form such an opin- ion of that Being who made the world, and whose tender mercies are over all his works, as to think, that he is not as willing to exert his power in behalf of the heathen , as in our behalf ; or that he will not be as ready to prosper our endeavours to convert sinners in heathen lands, as in our own country ? But I cannot dwell on this subject. Nor is it necessa- ry that I should. For it seems really impossible that any man. who considers the Christian religion a blessing, and who has imbibed the least degree of its benevolent spirit, should not desire its universal diffusion, or that he should not re- joice in the various exertions now made to bring the whole world under its influence. Objections against the mission- ary cause are consistent enough from the mouths of Deists 24 and Atheists ; but for Christians to make them, is a shock- ing absurdity. It is just as though they should say, we have received the Christian religion — we have been en- lightened by its heavenly doctrines, purified by its influ- ence, and in a thousand ways have experienced its bless- ings. And now, we are willing it should stop where it is, being quite indifferent whether its blessings, so impor- tant to ns, are ever communicated to the hundreds of mil- lions who are perishing without it. — But I cannot consent to answer objections against the missionary cause from those, who call themselves Christians. It is too late in the day. Henceforth, if any man would urge such objec- tions, let him have the honesty and truth first to avow himself an infidel. Here then, brethren, we have a cause of the highest conceivable moment. Other enterprises for the welfare of man are benevolent and useful. We honour them all. We wish them a growing and abundant success. But the Missionary cause is superior to all others. It is more be- nevolent, more exalted, more glorious. It reaches to all the human family. It aims at nothing less, than to com- municate the blessings of the everlasting gospel through the whole extent of the earth’s population. And notwith- standing all the difficulties which stand in its way, and which are so apt to discourage our faint hearts, it has a certain prospect of success. The undertaking, in which the friends of Missions arc now engaged, is one, upon which future generations will look back, as we do upon the la- hours of the apostles, and of succeeding Missionaries, in christianizing particular parts of the world. They will look back, and bless God, that he put it into the hearts of his people at this day, to begin the work of love. They will look back, and bless God for its accomplish- ment. And when the converted myriads of Bombay, of Ceylon, of Jerusalem and Asia Minor, of the Sandwich Islands, and the wilderness of America shall call to mind the commencement of those elforts in this country, which brought them to the knowledge of the truth, they will re- member our dear, lamented W orcester, and will associate his beloved name with all that was done for their salva- tion. In the history of the Christian church, they will, from generation to generation, read the history of our hon- oured Secretary, the principal agent in forming our various Missionary establishments abroad, and m all the efforts made by Christians in America for their support. And those who read his history in future ages, will form a far juster estimate, than we can, of the importance of the of- fice which he filled, and of the cause which he served. My hearers will not, I hope, charge me with a need- less digression in what I have said, when they consider that the character of the beloved man, who has been taken from us, was in reality identified with the Missionary cause. If the Missionary cause is insignificant ; so must we con- sider the man, who made an offering of himself for its ad- vancement. But if that cause is great and excellent, — if it is. in truth, the cause of human salvation, the cause of 4 26 infinite love ; then the character of the man, who had so close a relation to it, and so distinguished an influence in promoting it, must have derived from that relation and that influence, a corresponding greatness and excellence ; and the office which was assigned him, as agent for so glo- rious a cause, must have been, in the highest degree, ele- vated and responsible. But I should be far from doing justice to the charac- ter of our Corresponding Secretary , if 1 should pass over, with no more particular attention, the manner in which he executed the functions of his office. In every office which he previously sustained, he so united talent and fidelity, as to gain an honourable place in the public esteem. But in this last office, he appeared before the world with a char- acter of more finished excellence. In this last office, all his talents and acquisitions, as a scholar and a minister, and all his virtues as a Christian, combined their influence to produce one grand result. And permit me to say, that when we look at his agency in this great concern, we see what God intended by the peculiarities of his character. Here those peculiarities were all turned to account. They conspired with the other attributes of his mind to produce in him such a remarkable fitness for his work, that no one was left to doubt for what God designed him. Our be- loved Secretary was as manifestly in his proper place in the kingdom of Christ, as the hand or the head is in its proper place in the natural body. In the station which he finally held, he exhibited a greater symmetry, and n 27 brighter and stronger expressiveness in the features of Ins character, than ever before. And now, you might as well think of doing justice to the character of Moses, without describing his agency in delivering the children of Israel from Egypt and leading them through the wilderness, or of Paul, without exhibiting him as the Apostle of the Gen- tiles, as to the character of Dr Worcester, without de- scribing him in this highest and most arduous sphere of his labours. The manner in which he filled this office, you may learn from facts. Learn it from those Reports of the Board which he wrote, especially the two last ; which, I will venture to say, would not suffer by comparison with any performances of the kind, ever published in America, or in Europe. Learn it from his correspondence with the Missionaries, should that interesting correspondence ever be made public. Learn it from the character of our various Missionary establishments in different parts of the world. The whole plan of these establishments, the principles on which they are conducted, and the success which has at- tended them, are before the public. And I think it im- possible that any competent judge should not perceive the superior wisdom which they display. They evidently make an advance, in some important respects, upon pre- ceding establishments. They are all calculated for per- manent operation, and for permanent and increasing utility. They are conducted so manifestly according to the dic- tates of common sense, and of sober, Christian judgment, 28 that they have already done much towards silencing the ob- jections of opposers, and will, I am confident, soon unite all candid, pious men m the cause of Missions. — Learn too the manner in which our brother filled his office, from the influ- ence he had with the community, and the success which uniformly attended his earnest appeals to them, in behalf of the funds of the society. The American people are a people of many eyes and ears, and, when possessed of suf- ficient evidence, arc not prone to form an incorrect judg- ment. They will not continue to invest a man with the highest degree of influence over them, unless his conduct entitles him to entire confidence. This is specially true in regard to such a subject as this. Had there been any de- fect of the requisite talents in the Secretary, or had there been any thing exceptionable, or even suspicious, in his public or private conduct; the treatment he would have had from the community would have been very d liferent from what he uniformly received. The various plans of Missionary operation, adopted In the Prudential Commit- tee, have repeatedly involved the Board in expenses, far beyond their resources. Had the good people of our country suspected any want of wisdom in those expensive plans, or in him who had a principal agency in concerting them ; they would not, at his solicitation, have so prompt- ly increased their contributions, and so generously relieved from embarrassment the operations of the Board. The evidences of the distinguished character of our Secretary, which I have now suggested, are before the L 29 public. But there are other evidences, and those oi a most interesting nature, which have necessarily been con- cealed from the public eye ; 1 mean the steady, long-con- tinued intenseness of' his mental labours in private, and the part sustained by him in the deliberations of the American Board, and especially of the Prudential Committee. Could the friends of our Missionary exertions have seen him in those deliberations, and those intense labours of mind, they would have seen him in his strength; and would have learned something of the secret spring of those systematic, public movements, by which the American Board and American Christians have been aiming to enlighten and save the heathen. It was one of the peculiar excellencies of Dr Wor- cester, as agent for such a cause, that he had the habit of investigating a subject more 'patiently and thoroughly , and , in all difficult cases, of suspending his judgment longer, than most other men. His mind was not indeed distinguished for that rapidity of thought, which might have helped him to decide and act with great promptness, as well as pro- priety, in ordinary concerns, but which, in business of great weight and difficulty, might have disqualified him for de- ciding or acting at all. He had the superior advantage of that slower and more exact movement of thought, of that longer reach of intellect, and that more particular and more consummate deliberation, which qualified him to look through all the relations of a great and complicated subject ; to foresee the distant results of measures under consideration : 30 to foresee dangers, and by seasonable precaution to avoid them ; and to carry forward a systematic plan, involving the greatest interests of the world, to a gradual, but sure accomplishment. He was the man, who, in these vast concerns, had nothing that savoured of presumption; no- thing precipitate ; nothing showy, visionary, or extrava- gant; and nothing of transient utility. He took time to form his judgment ; but when formed, it seldom needed reconsideration. I might say of him, what could be said of few men living, that such was the fairness and thor- oughness of his investigations, and the judiciousness of his decisions, that it was scarcely necessary to inquire . into the expediency or feasibility of any measure, which he delibe- rately recommended.* It must be considered as a special token of divine fa- vour, that a man of such a character was raised up at a time, when exertions so benevolent and extensive were to be made, and that he was permitted of heaven to devote himself so long to the concerns of our Foreign Missions. Gladly would I increase the public esteem and affection which generally fall to the lot of men, who become public agents in business so weighty and complicated. The cares, * To guard against too exclusive a sense of the above remarks, I must be permitted here to express the same confidence in the other principal agent of 1 he American Board, who was so constantly and intimately associated with the Corresponding Secretary, and whose talents, devotion to public duty, and indefatigable labours, entitle him to (he respect, affection and gratitude of all who love the cause of Christ. 31 and labours, and anxieties, to which they are incessantly exposed, would, il’ fully known, excite more general sym- pathy. Without supposing them exempt from the mistakes and imperfections, always incident to good men, I am fully persuaded that, on the principles of human nature, a sta- tion which is so responsible, and which so far identifies their reputation and comfort with the spread of the Chris- tian religion, removes them to the greatest distance from temptations to self-interest ; alfords the strongest security to the uprightness of their conduct, and gives them no ordinary claim to public confidence. It was one of the most valuable qualifications of Dr Worcester, and one of the most striking proofs of his greatness, that difficulties, however various and unexpected, never disconcerted him ; opposition and danger never pro- duced perturbation. He could experience many a tempo- rary discomfiture, without being either subdued, or dis- couraged. In those emergencies, which agitate and over- whelm men of ordinary minds, he collected new strength ; his feelings rose to higher animation, and his understanding to mightier efforts. In many cases which occurred in the prosecution of his arduous business, he could see no present means of relief. Difficulties multiplied, and pul on an appalling aspect. But in him, there was no sink- ing, no trembling. The ultimate success of the under- taking was inseparably connected in his mind, with the faithfulness and almighty agency of Jehovah. He had confidence in God, and expected great things to he done 32 in this age of wonders. At times his way seemed to he hedged up with difficulties. But he had no doubt the difficulties would all be cleared away. Now, it was a night of thick darkness. But he expected the morning would come with its cheering light. In the greatest straits, he was so entirely a stranger to that despondency which enervates the mind, that he was all the while spon- taneously putting himself into a state of preparation ior more powerful action. When others were disheartened, then was the time for him to go forward. Under every pressure, he acquired greater decision of purpose, and more intense ardour of feeling in favour of his object, and became more fruitful in arguments to prove its excellence, and in expedients to secure its accomplishment. I shall mention one more property which belonged to the character of our departed brother ; which is, that in regard to the various objects of Christian benevolence, his mind was well balanced, and Ins zeal well proportioned. I do not mean, that he gave such a portion of his own thoughts and feelings and labours to each benevolent ob- ject, as agreed exactly with its comparative importance. No intelligent being, who is not infinite, can ever do this. But I mean, that his judgment was not so biassed by the business which engrossed his attention, that he overlooked the importance of the business in which other good men were engaged. He guarded in a good measure againsi the fault, to which every man in a public station is liable, namely, that of looking so earnestly at his own particular 33 object, as to lose sight of others. Although, as Corres* ponding Secretary, he was occupied constantly, and for so long a time, with the labours of an office more public in its nature, and more extensive in its design ; he never ceased to feel the importance, or to love the duties of the pastoral office. His zeal for the Missionary cause did not lead him to undervalue the great and successful exertions of the present day, to promote other benevolent objects. Nor did his zeal for Foreign Missions prevent his feeling a deep interest in Missionary efforts for the benefit of our own country. It was obvious to him, and it was a senti- ment, which he took great pleasure in cherishing and ex- pressing, that the various objects, which Christians are now labouring to promote, are, in the most important respects, one, and are all entitled to a far more liberal and efficient patronage, than they have ever yet obtained. I have now, I trust, faithfully, though not with the skill I could have wished, portrayed the leading features of Dr Worcester’s public character. I have represented him as a man of distinguished eminence in the church. But pause here, brethren, just long enough to consider again, summarily, in what his distinction mainly consisted. He had nothing of that brilliancy of genius or of eloquence, and nothing of that enchanting popularity of manners, which gains rapturous admiration and loud applauses from the multitude. Part of his distinction consisted in his great distance from all this. He indeed had a powerful and well cultivated mind, and a taste of no ordinary refinement. >4 34 But if you look attentively at the man, you will see that his distinction consisted in that which worldly ambition would never covet. It consisted not in the emoluments, or the splendours, or the honours of his place. No. It consisted in his filling an office of vast and eternal conse- quence ; an office involving labours, and burdens, and anx- ieties, and sufferings, which are insupportable to human strength, and which must render any man, who sustains them, an object of public compassion, rather than of envy. It consisted in his pursuing the great business of that office with intensity of thought; with simplicity of aim; with inextinguishable zeal ; with the consideration and prudence, which experience inculcates ; and with the perseverance and activity of a man, who knows the greatness and good- ness of his undertaking, and who, relying not on the re- sources of his own mind, but on the help of God, and on the uncontrollable movements of his providence, resolves on its perfect execution. It consisted, in short, in his con- secrating himself and all that he had to a cause, superla- tively excellent, and in his studying, and labouring, and suf- fering so much, and, through the divine blessing, so success- fully, for its advancement. Thus you see that the distin- guished excellence of his character was such, that we must have something better than ambition , to aspire after it, and yet something worse than envy itself, not to do it reverence. But we must come to the closing scene of that life, which was so full of great and useful actions. Unrcmitted labour had created or increased various bodily infirmities. 35 Those infirmities had for some time been assuming a more and more alarming aspect. The consent of onr friend to visit the establishments at Brainerd and Elliot was in part produced by his paternal solicitude for the Missionary cause in those places, and in part by a desire to repair that constitution, which his solicitude and his long-continued efforts for the Missionary cause had almost undermined. But that consent was not yielded without much anxious and devout consideration, and the best counsel of physi- cians and friends. As an arrangement of divine provi- dence, it may seem full of mystery, that he should be re- moved far away from his dear wife and children, from his pastoral charge, from his brethren, and friends, and native region, to die in the wilderness. What could have appear- ed more desirable to us, than that, in his last sickness, his pains should be alleviated and his heart comforted, by the tender assiduities of his own beloved family. They would have craved the opportunity of thus ministering to him in his sufferings, and of hearing from his dying lips his last paternal counsels, as one of the most precious blessings, ever to be enjoyed on earth. And what could have ap- peared to be more desirable, or to promise more good to the Missionary cause, than for his brethren and fellow-la- bourers to have some seasons of free consultation with him in his last days, and to be made acquainted with the views and emotions, which must have been produced in a mind, so mature and elevated as his, by the visible approach of death, and the dawn of eternal day. But the sovereign appointment of God was, that he should go far hence, to 36 sicken and die. The pains he took to learn the will of God respecting his absence, and the considerations, which finally convinced his hesitating judgment of the expediency of the voyage, stated particularly in a letter to the Treas- urer, must have given entire satisfaction to the public. So must his subsequent reflections, as exhibited in the same letter. — “ It has been,” he says, “ no slight satisfaction to “ my mind, that I came hither in obedience to God’s direc- “ tion, and not, as I would humbly trust, without some de- “ gree of filial submission, and confidence, and hope. What “ the end is to be, is not yet to be read. It may be the “ final exit from all earthly scenes, and the dropping of “ this slender tabernacle, though far away from its kindred “ dust, yet in the place, whether in the sea, or upon the “ land, appointed by sovereign goodness for its rest till the rising day. — It may be the accomplishment of something “ for life and immortality to the wanderers of the wilder- u ness, or dwellers in the dark places of the earth, by an instrumentality so feeble, as to make it manifest that “ the excellency of the power must have been of God.” — “ At the age of fifty, with a family requiring a father’s as “ well as a mother’s care, — a people holding his heart “ with a thousand ties, — a study, his loved retreat, ‘ Fast “ by the oracles of God,’ — responsibilities the most weigh- “ ty, and objects of attention and action for which only he w would live and labour, — one could not leave home for an “ absence so long, and with prospects so precarious, with- “ out many reluctances and regrets, and thoughts of seri- “ ous import, and movements of the inmost heart.” — “ But 37 “ what is time, or place, or outward condition 1 — God is at “ all times, and in all places the same ; and to feel that we * are in him and he m us, is enough for happiness. 1 o feel that we are where he would have us be, and doing u what he would have us do, is all that for ourselves we “ should desire.*’ In the following quotation from the same letter, he expresses his mature, unwavering judgment as to the cause of Missions. — u One thing is settled in my mind; and that “ is a full and delightful conviction, that the cause of Mis- ** sions has never held too high a place in my estimation, or “ engaged too large a share of my attention. — It transcends, u immeasurably transcends the highest estimation of ever) 7 ** created mind. And what is the sacrifice of health, what “ the sacrifice of life, to such a cause ? Be the event what “ it mav, — recovered health, or early death, — I never can “ regret what I have done in this work ; — but only that *’ I have done so little, and with a heart so torpid.” It would be highly interesting, were not my time ex- hausted, to trace the progress of our beloved brother, amid weariness, and infirmity, and pain, and yet amid many benevolent exertions, from New Orleans to our Indian es- tablishments. The heart of Jacob was not more fondly set on going down to Egypt and seeing Joseph before he died, than his heart was, on visiting those Missionary sta- tions. At a little distance from Elliot, he wrote the fol- lowing apostolic letter to the Missionaries at that place ; a letter which most strikingly shows you the sacred pas- 38 sion which possessed and ruled his heart. He says, — 44 In “ various scenes and changes ; the perils of the sea and per- 44 ils of the wilderness ; in much weakness, weariness, and 44 painfulness, my heart has been cheered with the anticipa- “ tion of being refreshed at Elliot. At present however, it “ seems to be the will of our ever to be adored Lord and “ Master, that the anticipation, so fondly entertained, should “ not be realized. I bow to his sovereign pleasure, always 44 good, — infinitely good. Still my heart melts with longing, 44 with tenderness towards that consecrated spot— towards all 44 the members of the Missionary family, both those whom I 44 have seen, and those whom I have not seen ; and towards 44 the dear children of the forest, the objects of benevolent instruction and labour and care. May the God and Fa- 44 ther of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and “ the God of all grace, bring you nearer and nearer to him- “ self, and keep you more entirely in his love, — grant you 44 abundant supports and consolations — make you faithful un- “ to death. May he bless the school, and prosper the “ work in the nation, and make the wilderness and solitary “ place to be glad for you.— And when our labours and trials 44 on earth shall be finished, in his infinite mercy, may we 44 meet in his presence above, and rejoice in his glory for- * ever.” When he arrived at Brainerd, May 25, he was ex- tremely feeble, and as it seems, looked upon the time ol his departure as near. “ God,” he said, 44 is very gracious. 44 He has sustained me, as it were by miracle, thus far, and 39 " granted me one great desire of my heart, in bringing me * to Brainerd. And if it be agreeable to bis holy purposes, “ that I should leave mv poor remains here, his will be * done.” He was able to attend to no business, and to speak but little. In few words he addressed the mem- bers of the church, and some of the congregation. After that, though much exhausted, he expressed a particular desire that the children of the school, according to their request, should come in. “ I want,” — he said, feebly, and with tears, — “ I want to see all my dear children, and to take them by the hand.” They were then called in, and he took each of them by the hand, as they passed by his dying bed. Having all passed round in procession, they stood and sung a hvmn. He was affected to tears most of the time. He then, in the most affectionate manner, addressed them, which in return melted them to tears There, on the seventh of June in the morning, — at that consecrated spot in the wil- derness, dearer far to him, than any city or mansion on earth, this servant of the church, worn out with fatigue, and exhausted with sickness, lifted up his eyes towards heaven, and with a delightful smile upon his countenance, fell asleep in Jesus. The grief of the Missionaiy family on this occasion, you shall learn from their own language. When beginning to write their Journal, the day on which their beloved counsellor and father died, they thus describe the over- whelming sorrow of their hearts. — “ With reluctance we 40 “ enter on the events of this day. Our thoughts recoil. “ Our pen stops. — Tears darken our eyes. — We seek “ where to weep. We enter into our closets and weep “ there. We resolve to be men, and not children. We “ resume the task. Our weakened hands refuse to per- “ form their office. — We look at each other, and say, who “ shall bear the doleful tidings ? A solemn silence casts a “ still darker shade over the gloomy scene. Eveiy heart is faint ; every head is sick ; every hand is weak.” But the Missionary family at Brainerd are not alone in their grief. There is a general mourning. And this mourn- ing will spread through various and distant parts of the world, as soon as the tidings of Dr Worcester’s death shall be heard. Our Missionaries in the East, and in the West loved him and confided in him, as a father, by whose ma- ture wisdom and faithful friendship they were guided and cheered in all their labours. How will their hearts bleed, when they hear that this beloved, honoured friend is no more ! — I might speak of the sorrow of his church and society ; of the Prudential Committee and the American Board ; of our Theological Seminary, in which lie had been recently called to the office of a Visitor ; of the Massachusetts Missionary Society, and the American Edu- cation Society, and of other religious and charitable Socie- ties with which he was connected; of the churches and ministers of Christ ; of all the friends of Missions, and all (he friends of man. I 41 But it becomes us, brethren, to restrain our feelings, and seriously to inquire, in what manner we should bear this stroke of divine providence, and what use we should make of it. Here let us bless the God of all grace, that he has prepared a heaven of glory and blessedness for his faithful servants. O how sweet the rest of heaven, after a wea- risome journey through this wilderness. How blessed to be there rid of all imperfections and sins. Imperfections and sins our dear brother certainly had, or he could not have been human. He confessed them, and mourned for them, and looked to the blood of atonement for forgive- ness, or he could not have been a Christian. But from his life and death, we have the best reason to think that he now sees his Saviour face to face, and will serve him with perfect love, and enjoy him with perfect blessedness forever. We ought, brethren, to bless God for raising up a man of so distinguished a character, and making him the instrument of so much good to the church. That our de- ceased brother was thus fitted for the important places he occupied ; that he was continued so long, and enabled to make such efforts for the salvation of men, is to be attrib- uted to infinite goodness. We ought, with reverence and submission, to notice the hand of God in the place and circumstances of his death. 6 42 The progress of the divine dispensations may soon show, and undoubtedly the light of eternity will show, that im- portant ends, and ends very near his heart, w ere answ ered by his dying at a Missionary station. It seems as though God meant in this affair, to set aside the wishes of his relatives, his people, and his fellow labourers here, for the sake of a great public good. — The man, who has here acted the most conspicuous part in the Missionary cause, and who has secured the strongest, tenderest attachment of the Christian community, is removed from his family and friends, and from the societies and individuals with Avhom he was so closely united in his various labours, and is carried away, by the divine hand, to a spot in the wil- derness, — a spot on which have centered so many chari- ties, and labours, and prayers. He is carried to the place where our beloved Kingsbury, with so much ability and success, began to collect and teach the Indian children. Though a sick and dying man, he has this great desire of bis heart, — to see the consecrated place ; to see the dear Missionary family; to see and embrace the children of the forest, now the children of a Christian school; and in words faint and few, to give his last counsel, his dying ben- ediction. — There he is, in the most tender and interesting moments of his whole life. There he commits his soul to his God and Saviour. There his body lies m the dust. There is his grave; and there will his grave-stone be erected. — And now, brethren, the happy consequence will be, that all the esteem and love, which Christians in A- mcrica have for his character, all their gratitude lor his 43 services, all their sympathy for his sufferings, and all their grief at his death, will be associated with that Missionary establishment, and with the Missionary cause. 1 he recol- lection that a man so great, and wise, and good, went to die on Missionary ground, must excite a new interest in the public mind. It will plead the cause of Missions with more effect, than the eloquence of a M hitefield. The place where Dr Worcester died, and where lie sleeps in the grave, will be indeed a consecrated place. And who can ever go to that consecrated place, without emotions ol mingled veneration and love and tenderness, at the remem- brance of the devoted minister of Christ, who came there to die. But in the minds of Christians, that place will be closely united with the cause which is there to be pro- moted. And so that precious cause will hereafter stand out to public view, as having the nearest connexion with all that was great and useful in the life, and all that was solemn and peaceful in the death of this beloved servant of God. To a cause endeared by so many tender and interesting associations, its friends will hereafter contribute with more liberality, and more pleasure. And a cause, recommended by such visible proofs of its magnitude and excellence, will conciliate the cordial attachment of many, by whom it has heretofore been disregarded. v And now let me say to you, my hearers, — and would God 1 could say it to Christians in every part of the land, — if you wish, by some suitable mark, to express the af- fectionate veneration, which you feel for the character of 44 this servant of Christ; promote the cause which he loved. Promote it by your substance, your labours, and your prayers. This will be a far better token of respect for his memory, than applauses or tears. If any of you, brethren, aspire to be great and useful like our departed brother; then copy that, in which his greatness and usefulness consisted. Be devoted to the cause of Christ. Let that cause be so near your heart; let your affections, and desires, and pursuits so entirely centre in it, that it may, in some humble measure, be your cause, as it is Christ's cause. If you have Christian be- nevolence , and wish to increase it ; give it proper cultiva- tion. Do not set this celestial plant in a dark, cold, nar- row place, where it will droop and die ; but bring it forth to open day, and give it room to expand, and let the sun warm it, and the rains of heaven fall upon it ; and then it will grow, and become a great tree, and bear abundant fruit, which shall be for the healing of the nations. But, Oh ! my brethren, as I am about to close, the sorrowful theme returns. — I look around me in this sacred place, where our brother so long ministered in holy things, and where I was so often permitted of God to take part in his ministrations ; — I look into his house, where I have so many times enjoyed his edifying discourse, and united with hnn in family worship ; — I look to those societies and those meetings for business, where his presence was deem- ed so important; — I look to the Theological Seminary. 45 which hoped long to enjoy his visits ; — I look here, and there, — and, lor a moment lost in recollection, I ask, where is our dear brother ? — But Oil ! the painful thought, — he sleeps in death ; — we shall sec his face no more. But shall wc faint under this heavy stroke ? Shall his companions in labour — shall the friends of Missions — shall those who have gone to the heathen, be disheartened by this visitation, and say, with sinking discouragement, what can we do? — “Hast thou not known, hast thou not heard, “ that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the “ ends of the earth fainteth not, neither is weary ? There “ is no searching of his understanding. He giveth power “ to the faint, and to them that have no might, he increas- “ eth strength.” — Did not the unchangeable God create our departed brother, and furnish him for his work ? Is the power of God diminished ? Is his goodness di- minished ? Is not he as watchful a friend, as faith- ful a Guardian of the Missionary cause, as he ever has been? Every instance in which he raises up a great and useful man to bless his church, is a new evidence of his inexhaustible goodness, and of his unalterable purpose to carry forward the work of love, till all flesh shall be sav- ed. God will repeat — he will multiply these evidences of his goodness. So our beloved brother felt in the last hours of his life. He said, “ Though I am taken away “ from this delightful labour, the Lord lives, and will raise “ up other instruments to carry on his work.” Yes, let every Christian say, “ the Lord lives, and blessed be my 46 rock.” He will not l’orget his servants, who are labouring and suffering for him, either in Christian or pagan lands. To any of us, who are called to sustain offices of high mo- ment, and to perform difficult and wearisome duties, espe- cially to those, whose burden of care and labour is aug- mented by this afflictive visitation, he will not refuse to give assistance and support. How gracious and cheering his promise, “ as thy day is, so shall thy strength be.” Additional helpers that may be needed in our great Christian enterprises, he will supply ; and he will supply them in season. In that day of glory to the church, which is drawing near, God will raise up men, who will far outshine all who have gone before. O could you see in clear prospect, what will quickly be seen as a pres- ent reality, how would your hearts leap for joy. — Friends of Zion, — friends of the Missionary cause, lift up your heads, for Jesus lives. Jesus, infinitely greater than all human agents, — Jesus, the Saviour of the world, lives and reigns forever. Amen.