SamMiSmbnt^w.
A DISCOURSE
Delivered by appointment of the Right Reverend Horatio
Potter, D.D., Bishop of Nezv York,
AT THE
CHURCH OP THE ANNUNCIATION,
City of New York, on the 2$th day of yune, A. D., 1 873,
IN MEMORY OF
SAMUEL SEABURY, D. D.,
Presbyter of the Diccese of New York, Professor of
Biblical Learning and Interpretation of Scrip-
ture in the General Theological Seminary.
BY THE
Rev. SAMUEL ROOSEVELT JOHNSON, D.D.
Emeritus Professor of Systematic Divinity in the General
Theological Seminary, Rector of St. Thomas*
Church, Amenia Union, N. Y.
J* J.
PREFACE.
TiiK fV)llowing Discourse was loft in my hands by its lamented
author in July last, with a note suggesting that if published it
should be accompanied by an appendix containing copies of the
various resolutions passed in relation to the subject of it. The
author had before conversed with me in regard to the publication of
the Discourse, and had expressed his willingness that this disposition
should be made of it. So far as we could learn, there was a decided
conviction on the.part of those who had heard it, that it ought to be
published. The doubt was as to the quarter from which such pub-
lication should proceed. Under the circumstances it has seemed to
the members of Dr. Seabury's family that they would pay only a
proper respect both to the subject and to the author of the Dis-
course, by causing to be printed a number of copies sufficient for
distribution among those who might be interested to receive them.
While this conclusion was being reached, and preliminary arrange-
ments were being made, and while I promised myself the pleasure of
conference with the author upon several matters suggested by his
Discourse, he was called to follow the friend whom in his last act of
public interest he had so lovingly commemorated : an event calcu-
lated to give additional value to pages which already must have
been doubly interesting to those who knew and appreciated both of
these venerable men, since the memoir, while a picture of its subject,
is in some characteristic particulars a remarkable and happy re-
flection of its author, who ail-innocently embalmed himself in the
tomb which his loving kindness wrought out for his friend.
The departure of Dr. Johnson necessarily threw the work of
editing his Discourse upon some other, and the circumstance that it
•+•
13938
il PREFACE.
is printed by Dr. Seabury's family has not unnaturally devolved
the task upon me. In the discharge of this duty, I have, on consul-
tation with the son of the author, the Rev. William Allen Johnson,
and by his permission, made a few verbal alterations, which ob-
viously appeared to be such as the author himself would have
made had his attention been directed to the occasion for them. I
have also made one or two notes of reference. Otherwise the
manuscript is printed as I received it from the author.
It is with unaffected pleasure that I avail myself of the present
opportunity to express my grateful appreciation of the labours of
the author in the work committed to him. These, as well as the
loving spirit with which they were performed, challenge my grati-
tude and admiration, and have increased the respectful affection
which I have always entertained for him. While I say this, how-
ever, I trust that I shall not appear to pass the bounds of propriety,
if I add that there are some passages in the Discourse which
appear to me to have been based upon a misunderstanding of the
position of the subject of it. I feel the less hesitation in saying
this here, because after the Discourse was delivered I said as much
to the author, who in one particular modified his expressions in such
a way as to avoid an inference, which, as he saw when it was
pointed out to him, might have been drawn to a disparagement
which he was far from intending.
With respect to another subject, I had a conference with tlie
author, which, unhappily, I had no opportunity of resuming. I
felt that I could not concur with him in his intimation of changes
on the part of Dr. Seabury in the latter part of his life, nor was I
content to accept the method by which he sought to account for an
assumed appearance of change. On the contrary, not to look
further than the example cited, I find in Dr. Seabury's manuscripts
of the last year or two of his life, and of more than twenty yeai's
ago, unmistakable evidence of identity of doctrine in regard to
the Holy Eucharist. The Discourse, however, seems to leave the
reader under the impression either that Dr. Seabury changed his
gi'ound, or else that the ground which he had previously held was
not that which it seemed to be. As instrumental in perpetuating a
memorial which appears to present such an alternative, I feel bound
PREFACE. iii
to say that I do not assent to either branch of it, and that I am
unwilHng to have it inferred from my silence that I admit, or that I
suppose my father would have admitted, either that there was in
him such a change as the author seems to extenuate, or that he held
lower or other views than were exactly contained in the true sense
of the words which he was in the habit of using to express them.
WM. J. SEABURY.
Annunciation Rectory,
Fe.\st of St. Luke, 1873.
'•+«
MEMORIAL DISCOURSE.
■Nothi;n"g seems more easy in tlie distance and yet
is harder wlien tlie work draws near, than a formal,
official tribute to the memory of a great man, greatly
l)eloved, eminent for his aljilities and of high repu-
tation, and of a long, various, complicated life.
Sometimes, especially in old age and in perplexity,
the power of touching a particular subject l)econies
ca})ricious and will not work. Then there is a natu-
ral uneasiness that justice may not ])e done to it,
that it may be treated inadequately, unfortunately.
Yet, after all, I have the comforting conviction that
he who is the subject here is his own master. Strong
and independent as he always was, his memory ^vill
protect itself now he is gone. His merit and repu-
tation are self-sustained, and will not lose, and will
hardly gain by the memorial of affection or the
expressed opinion of a transient judgment. The
memorial soon passes out of sight and out of mem-
ory, wliile tlie great miud survives, and its history.
We may safely leave liim alone in Ms own right, on
his own domain. The years which pass, which dwell
upon the great and good elements which made him up,
which last beyond our day, and beyond local and
personal questions, will secure his name and fame,
and I predict for the long period with increasing
interest and rej)utation.
I, selected for this solemn yet insj^iring occasion,
by the voice and by the hands of my revered and
beloved Bishop, own it duty and feel it privilege,
and must not have a fear.
Samuel Seabury was born at New London, Con-
necticut, Tuesday, June 9, 1801. He was of a
remarkably pure English stock, very little of any
other race contributing its blood. The family came
from Devonshire, England, and resided first in Mas-
sachusetts, then in Connecticut. John Seabury,
the Bishop's grandfather, came from Plymouth,
Massachusetts, to Groton, Connecticut, and was a
deacon amono- the Cono-reo-ationalists. His wife
O i^ CD
was descended from John Alden, famed as the first
man who landed from the Mayjiower on Plymouth
Kock. And all the names from the first record to
the mother of Dr. Seabuey himself, Avith one half
exception of a Scottish name, " Stewart," interposed,
show the clear Anglo-Saxon and Norman stock, the
grand old Puritan ])l<)()d, \\'liifli, wlien hrought into
the Cliureli of Christ, with wider yet less devious
and willful current, and with somewdiat to redeem
its unliandsomeness, to compensate its unreason-
ableness, and harmonize and temper its energies,
miglit be pronounced the best blood of the world.
Such accession it received in passing through four
generations of Episcopal clergymen, under fine cul-
ture and in the purer atmosphere of the Church.
The first of these "was Samuel Seabury, of Groton.
He was a student in Yale College in the memorable
year when its president. Cutler, and its professors.
Brown and Johnson, of Stratford, abandoned the
Congregationalist body, and gave in their adherence
to the Church. In consequence of the troubles he
passed to Harvard University, graduating in 1724.
Then he became a licensed preacher among his kin-
dred at Groton. But his doubts about the ministry
and the Church were on his mind, and they grew^
He could not rest so. At last he went to England
for Holy Orders, returning a Priest, and early in
1729 is reported as ^^ lately gone over'''' and " sent to
New^ Loudon." For fourteen years he was a mis-
sionary of the Society for the Propagation of the
Gospel in New London, and the first rector of St.
James' Church. His salary was ^60 a year fi-om
June 24, 1730. Then, from 1743, ^^^ resided twenty
-h-
years in Hempstead, Long Island, and its vicinity,
under similar arrangements, officiating at Oyster
Bay and Huntington, and parts adjoining, during
tlitit time l)aptizing 1,071. In l)otli stations lie
visited actively around, reports at times " great suc-
cess," and tlie congregations crowded in good weather.
In further proof of his efficiency, he writes that in
1/56, at tlie request of the peo23le -of Dutchess
County, eighty miles from Hempstead, he made them
a visit and stayed six days, and preached four times
to large congregations, " in consideration of all
which the Society hath directed him to take these
poor people under his care, and do them what good
services he can, consistent, at present, with his more
peculiar cure." He occasionally officiated at Fish-
hill. He was known as a solid, well-balanced man,
faithful, active and acceptable as a minister of
Christ. He died in 1763. These records show that
he was of the true character, and worthy to head
the list. As Dr. Chandler happily expresses it, " a
character that is held in high esteem, and an exam-
ple that is worthy of all imitation."
His son, Samuel Seabury, was born in Groton,
Connecticut, November 30, 1729. He was 13
years old when his father removed from New Lon-
don to Hempstead, commended by Dr. Samuel
Johnson, of Stratford, as " a solid, sensible, vu'tuous
•+•■
youth, wlio in good time may do good service." He
graduated at Yale In 1748 with lionor, and King's
Colh^ge made him an A. M. in 1761, thirteen years
hiter. In i75i, after having served as a Catechist
and lixj reader in Huntington, Long Island, he ^v^ent
to Scotland to complete his study of medicine.
There his attention was soon fixed constant u])on
theology, and he was orchiined in 1753 Deacon, by
John. Bishop of Lincoln, and Priest hy the Bishop
of Carlisle, each acting for the Bishop of London.
Returning, he laboured under the auspices of the
Society for Propagating the Gospel three years in
New Brunswick, New Jersey, nine years in Jamaica,
Long Island, and parts adjacent; then, on March i,
1867, at St. Peter's, Westchester, and at Eastchester
for ten years. A loyalist, attached to the regular
government, to the royal side and the one united
Empire, and, in consequence, suffering persecution
at the beginning of the Revolutionar}^ War at his
home, he took refuge near the city of Ne^v York,
where he continued to the close of the war. In
1775 he had been carried prisoner to New Haven,
and was kept there under military guard for more
than a month. By 1776 they had disturbed his
papers, turned his Church into a hospital, and
burned the pews to the value of ^300, and
" being an obnoxious person to the rebels," after an
8
edict published making it death to support the
King, he fled to Staten Island. The Society, '' sen-
sible of his great worth," signified their ready com-
pliance. On December i5, 1777, he was made
D. D., of Oxford University. During these troubles
of the war he attended to his duties as missionary
at Staten Island, acted as chaplain to the King's
American regiment, to which he was appointed
by -Sir Henry Clinton, February 14, 1778, and
helped to support himself by occasional practice
as a physician. At the very beginning he had
written " several seasonable pieces under the as-
sumed character of a farmer^ popularly attributed
to another.''* Though unhesitating and decided,
he was never offensive, and cheerfully submitted at
the end. When peace was made, the Connecticut
Clergy, in concert with those of New York, re-
solved to make an effort to obtain the Episcopate ;
and he was unanimously chosen the Bishop of Con-
necticut on the 2ist of April, 1783. He reached
England on the 7th of July, 1783. But there were
obstructions and delays: some from the necessity
of the case, as the oath of allegiance and obedience,
others from prejudices and unwillingness to move.
After a weary delay of more than a year, he
turned to the Scottish Church, which was not thus
* Boucher's Sermons on the American Revolution.
9
embarrassed, and witli which he had become fami-
liar and to which attached on his former visit; and
he was consecrated Bishop at AV)erdeen, on Novem-
ber 14, 1784; being formally recognized on his
return to America, at a special Convention in Con-
necticut, on the 3d of August, 1 785. Philo Shelton,
(oh, name fortunate for the " daily beauty of his
life" and the nobility of his otfspring!) with three
others, were ordained by him at this time, his iirst
ordination. In all, he ordained 48 Deacons and 43
Priests, of whom the Rev. Daniel Burhans was the
latest survivor, dying at the age of 9 1 . The Bishop
elected Rector of St. James' Church, New London,
which had been Ijurned at Arnold's invasion, re-
turned to the home of his childhood, officiating in
the Court House ; celebrating, however, the Holy
Eucharist in the large parlour of his parsonage on
every Sunday. In 1790 he also took charge of the
Diocese of Rhode Island. In 1789, on the 2d of
October, the Constitution of the Episcopal Church
was adopted. Connecticut was brought in; and
Bishop Seabury was the first President-Bishop of
the Church of the United States.* What a cham-
pion Bishop he was, how able, how earnest, how
noble, of commanding presence and character, what
an admirable theologian and discourser he was, how
Journal Genl. Conv.. 1789. Orig. ed., p. 25. (Bioren, I. 93.)
•+•
lO
greatly valued and beloved by all the ricli and tlie
})Oor, what a happy churchly and spiritual inilnence
he exerted, what great strength he had and exercised
in all feithfiil ways, how much we owe to him, is
known of all men. His volumes and his other works
speak for him. As Dr. Boucher, an intimate friend
in Eno-land, writes in his volume of Sermons on the
American Revolution, printed in 1797, "he was a
man of such transcendent abilities as would have
been an ornament and a blessing to any country."
It is very evident that his fame has been ever on the
rise. He died of apoplexy on the 2 5th of February,
1796, in New London, aged 66 years, 2 months and
2 5 days. Interred in the public l)urial ground, where
the old gravestone still stands, the remains were re-
moved in 1849 to the new church and placed
beneath the chancel. I have seen there the costly
monument, and read there the fine inscrij^tion from
the pen of Dr. Samuel Farmar Jarvis. There also
I have seen the house, and was pointed to the room
where his grandson, Samuel Seabury, was born.
His youngest son, Charles Seabury, was born at
Westchester, in the province of New York, on the
20th of May, 1770. After five years he was in
New York or its vicinity, till his father removed to
New London as Bishop ia 1785. Having had pre-
paratory studies under excellent teachers, he com-
>k44
1 1
pletecl liii:! tlieological course under tlie immediate
direction of the Bishop, and was ordained together
with Dr. Burhans, June 5, 1793. After engage-
ments at Jamaica, in 1795 he was called at the
death of his father to he Rector at New London.
He was ordained Priest ])y Bishop Provoost, July
17, 1796. Eighteen years he resided in New
London, and then, in 18 14, became Rector of Caro-
line Church, Setauket, Long Island, acUling for seve-
i-al years Huntington, and for very many years Islip.
He was instituted in 18 14, under Bishop Hobart, by
the Rev. Seth Hart ; the Rev. Grilbert H. Sayres, of
Jamaica, and Evan M. Johnson, of Newtown, assist-
ing. He had five sons, of whom Samuel was the
oldest. In 1821 he married the widow of Rev.
Henry Moscrop, whose daughter was the wife of
Bishop Benjamin T. Onderdonk. Here he con-
tinued to labour with great steadftistness till he
died, aged 74 years, 7 months, and 9 days, on the
29th of December, 1844.
A l)eautiful tribute to his memory was paid
by his own loving Bishop. His talents were good,
his style easy, his power of conversation considera-
ble, his pastoral gift excellent. He pul)lished one
sermon in New London. But his strength lay not
here. It lay in the unconscious possession of a
great natural simplicity. He was as true as an
12
angel, and as innocent and transparent as a child,
like a babe from the upper sphere, with clear and
pleasant eye, let down to wander a while over
hills and fields of earth; and in his own precious
sphere I guess his degree was even higher than
the rest in theirs, I count it a privilege that I
once was with hiui at Huntington and Coldspring,
rode with him at his side in his own conveyance,
and worshipj^ed with him in the little Queen
Anne chapel, at an ordination Eucharist. He
was succeeded in Setauket and Islip by our ad-
mirable Drs. William Adams, of Nashotah, and D,
V. M. Johnson, of St. Mary's, Brooklyn.
But now we come to the fourth one in the line :
his eminent son, for whose special memory we are
now assembled. I felt as if I could not pass by his
honoured ancestors with mere allusion or bare men-
tion, and if I have gone too much into detail, pardon
me that I have erred. I feel, too, as if it might be
more congenial as a memorial to one who thought
so little of himself personally, but so much of his
kindred and forefathers. So I will yet venture to
add as another link in the line, that his son, the
Rev. William Jones Seabury, has succeeded his
father as Rector of the Church of the Annunciation,
himself useful in pastoral duties, honoured as an
intelligent theologian, instructing in the General
"i-
13
Theological Seminary, and l)elove(l of all; and lastly,
that a babe is born to him, and his name is Samuel
Seabury. May the line go on, and with all its an-
cient honors !
•Samuel Seabury was the eldest of five sons of
the Rev. Charles Seabury, and his mother, Anne
Saltonstall, the daughter of the Bishop's church-
warden, in whose house the Bishop died so suddenly.
He removed at the age of thirteen to Setauket, Long-
Island. During his residence in New London, in a
sphere of culture and intelligence, surrounded by
the elevating associations of his family position, the
foundation of his education must have been well
laid, his development auspiciously begun, and in
many important respects, with permanent results,
especially when we consider his natural turn
for reading and study. But when removed to the
quiet seclusion of Setauket, all this w\as reversed.
His father's income was exceedingly small. Though,
to use his own words, his father was " a man of
simple habits and moderate desires, living as close
to Nature and as far from Fancy as was at all com-
l)atible with the decencies of his position," yet it
was impossible for him to secure to his children
many advantages of education. So Samuel was
obliged to do his best, even for his support. He
made some unsuccessful essay in our Great Master's
'+
guild ; lie went out from home to earn his living ;
having employment from his uncle, Edward Sea-
bury, who held a position in the Custom House,
and among some commercial friends. Desirous to
prosecute his classical studies, his preparatory edu-
cation, and finally, his theological profession ; and
also to bring forward upon the same pathway a
brother, to whose person and interest he was most
devoted ; after having watched for all opportunities
of study, and improved them for years ; having ap-
plied himself resolutely to Latin and Greek at the
age of seventeen, and always pursuing his studies
with such spare time as he could find ; carrying a
book always with him, to be used when he had a
chance, he thought it best, when he reached the age
of twenty-one, or more, to open a school at Brook-
lyn, as combining more the means of support, and
opportunity for study.
It was at this time I first heard of him, while
I was a senior at Columbia College, or a student
of our General Seminary. He had become well
acquainted with that great thinker and divine.
Dr. Henry U. Onderdonk, the Rector of St.
Ann's, Brooklyn, who took a great admiration
for him, and for whom he ever manifested a
peculiar esteem, often referring to him and to the
intercourse which he had with him, often quot.
•i—
+■
i5
ing expressions and phrases of his as showing his
views, his mind ])eing to a consi(leral)le extent
evidently influenced hy his. I remember the
Rev. Evan M. Johusc^n coming in one day and
saying to us with great eagerness, " Henry Onder-
donk tells me he has in his parish a wonderful
yoimg man, ])reparing for the ministry ; why he
says he knows everything; he is a son of our
Charles Seabury, at Setauket," This, I may say,
was the first step toward that remarkable attach-
ment which these two formed for each other, a
friendship
"That ever did continue, lilie the spring,
Ne'er saw the fall of the leaf." *
And these first profuse expressions gathered by him
from so eminent a judge of character and of ability
as the future Bishop, gave me a conscious sympathy
and honourino; recoo-nition which I have never been
without.
He was ordained Deacon 1)y Bishop Hobart, on
Wednesday, the 12th of April, 1826, in All Saints'
Church, NeAV York, the Rev. B. T. Onderdonk
preaching the sermon. He was ordained Priest by
Bishop Hobart, on Monday, the 7tli of July, 1828,
in St. George's Church, Hallet's Cove, now Astoria,
a portion previously of St. James's Parish, Newtown.
* Beaumont.
i6
After an incidental engagement at Newtown, to aid
his friend, the Hector, who had begun to found St.
John's Church, Brooklyn, and needed help for his
double services, he preached awhile in Jamaica and
Setauket, then took charge of St. John's, Hunting-
ton, with which all his Episcopal ancestors had been
connected, and after a year accepted a call to Hal-
let's Cove, where, under his ministry, St. George's
Church was separately organized, being consecrated
the 2ist of May, 1828. He was then invited by
Bishop Brownell to take a parish at Middletown,
but he preferred, after some time, to accept an offer
from Dr. Muhlenberg, to be the classical teacher in
his celebrated Institute at Flushing, where he con-
tinued for some years, during several of which he
resided in Flushing, and for others he visited the
institution two days, in the week. There I often
met him familiarly during the fifteen months of my
rectorship, attending with him the Heber Mission-
ary Society, and the Literary Debating Society of
the students, amongst whom he was a great favorite,
and by whom he was much admired for his un-
questioned ability and goodness. Among the
young men sat, I remember, Reuben Riley, Milo
Mahan, and J. Loyd Breck, with a hundred others ;
and among the young teachers (who formed my first
class in theological studies) were Bishop Kerfoot
17
and Drs. Diller, Van Bokkelen, and Prof. Barton,
He was then quite the victim of dyspepsia. He
tormented himself with ascetic remedies and long,
fatiguing exercises, walking fifteen miles a day. He
grew no better. At last, in a fit of despair, he
abandoned all remedies, he let nature take lier
course, he walked only as occasion required, he par-
took freely of what was set before him, when lo, he
discovered that he was well! It was here he pub-
lished communications for the " Flushing Institute
Journal;" also, in 1831, "The Study of the Classics
on Christian Principles," and " The Efficacy of a
Mother's Prayers, illustrated in the Conversion and
Labors of Augustine, Bishop of Hippo," in February,
1833, a work of 93 pages, since rej^rinted and very
popular and useful.
It was in 1833 he was visited by a most severe
bereavement, by the death of his brother William.
With him, as he himself writes to his son, "were
connected some of my brightest anticipations, and
my bitterest sorrows. I never knew so" clear and
vigorous a mind as his was, even in his youth. He
came from home when about sixteen, and resided
Avith me when I taught school in Brooklyn, studied
with me for a while, but he soon got far beyond
me. I sent him to school in New York, where he
fitted for Columbia College, in which he remained
i8
for more than a year, "but liis severe application
cost him his life. Had he lived, he would have
been a very great man.'' The son goes on to sa^' :
" My father's heart was wonderfully wrapped uj:) in
him ; he seems to have had no ambition for himself,
but he cherished bright hopes for his brother,
whose premature and melancholy death was a dis-
appointment from which he never entirely recov-
ered. After the lapse of thirty years' time, when
he spoke to me of him, he could not speak without
emotion." I well remember to have heard from my
brother William, who was for more than forty years
Rector of Grace Church, Jamaica, of the affecting
passionate grief of his friend Seabury for his bro-
ther's death. William Seabury died February
20, 1833, at Flushing, tenderly nursed in Dr.
Muhlenberg's Institute, where he had been acting
as classical instructor.
On September i, 1833, Dr. Seabury undertook
the important and laborious post of Editor of
The Churchman; and continued to hold it for
eighteen years, in connection with other pastoral
and rectorial engagements, and teaching exer-
cises ; carrying on his instructions at Flushing,
and entering into temporary arrangements with
the Church of the Nativity, and St. Luke's,
and finally becoming Rector of the Church of
'9
tlie Annunciation, all in the city of New
York.
It was as editor that he laid the foundation
of his great inilnence and fame. He seemed as
one made for the place, with his multitudinous
kno^vledge ever at command, his orthodox train-
ing, his churchly principles, his clear, manly style,
flowing on with deep majestic current, his high
and strong expression, his power of quick mas-
tery of a subject and of rapid composition, with
great command of ingenuity and address in
presenting any side of the subject favorably to
view; all this, united with high, honourable,
personal independence, his general pleasantness,
with the power of sternness and severity, when he
thought best to exercise them ; all these seemed to
make him the man for the position and the time.
He elevated our ideas. He made us familiar with
our best ages of thinkers and of writers, the scho-
lars of the centuries gone by. We took a pride in
him as a champion as he went out Avith such proof
of strength and mastery. There was confidence in
his very step. He understood himself, and knew
his ground. His was the march of a leader, and
there was a grandeur in his tread. I was younger
then and more excitable, but such were the abiding
impressions upon my mind. I have , lately repe-
4. 4.
20
rnsed, and witli renewed surprise at tlieir remark-
able ability, many columns of tlie best productions
of his pen. Suffice to say, lie established bis repu-
tation by liis great ability, diligence and success as
an editor, and thus for many years exercised an
influence before unequalled in the Church,
True it has been said, he knew how to be severe,
to use hard words, to be needlessly aggressive,
sometimes provoking, and to pursue his opponents
with unrelenting pertinacity. He was doubtless in
his youth a good fighter, and not averse to personal
antagonism. I am not one to applaud or justify
the faults of the great and good, to admire the
roughness of a Warburton, the coarseness of the
elegant Bishop Lowth, or the majestic overbearing
pronouncements of our Horsley. Nevertheless, the
solemn, awful religious damnatory denunciations,
untrue in their instances, and intemperate in their
degrees, meeting the mere teasing and irritating
controversies of a passionate time, with the charge
of being an enemy of the Lord Jesus, of despising
and detesting the glorious Gospel of the Blessed
God, and that a blessed change is needed in views
and tastes and sympathies if he would be saved ;
all such charges against a brother-minister, ap-
proved mainly as orthodox and sound, of recognized
virtue, and who built all his hopes of salvation
21
upon the same common redemption ; such holy as-
sumptions are to my mind far more offensive than
common editorial ugliness, and far more to be
deplored. Just as if the Saviour were not as " pre-
cious" to the one as to the other; only the one would
interpret the word as of infinite values, and not
have used the fond word "precious" in its fondest
way. So, in the controversies of the j)resent day,
they are false, disloyal and idolatrous on the one
side, and infidels and Llasphemers on the other.
Well, I suppose it will always be so.
In apology for the editor it is to be remembered
that these were strong controversial years ; that the
severity was exercised after enduring great and long
abuse; that the controversies were bound up with
exciting personal questions ; that he stood out on
the side of his Bishop and his Diocese. In very
many cases he was certainly personally released
from all considerations of delicacy. Sometimes,
too, an article must have been written in immense
haste, the printer's boy waiting at the door. In
some special instance where he had been charged
with an offensive word, he himself told me, that he
used it as important to an important argument, that
if it were clearly understood by the Church that
one of his challengers had become so nervous and
morbid by disease, and the other when excited was
22
SO constitutionally irritable as to be intractable,
tlien they would lose weight in this controversy, in
which their real virtues and the merit of their long
pastoral labors and earnest lives constituted the
chief j)ractical difficulty to be overcome. It was
with him a considered and measured phrase. If on
occasion he was severe, he was in general courteous
and even indulgent. Frequently he commended
his moderation by what he withheld, and refrained
when he had his opponent at his mercy.
But I have another principle by which I judge
such questions, " For as the man is, so is his
strength." A strong man must do things strongly.
His very breathing is strong. Like that grand old
moralist, Dr. Samuel Johnson, whom I thought he
in several points resembled, when he spoke he
spoke ; he never whispered. What ! tame down a
magnificent Horsley and a Kavenscroft, and a Tyng
and a Philander Chase, to the gentle breathing of a
Bishop Benjamin Moore, or a dear saintly Bird
Wilson! Who was it who said, "Very few and
small erroi's, but very few and small doings."
" Parum erraturus sed pauca facturusy It were
well worth the weighing of our charitable judg-
ment to consider that the strong nature, acting-
according to the constitution God has given it, has
its virtues and has its faults, with strengths propor-
•i-
23
tlonate. Wliat is somewliat remarkahle, it is tlic
slower, the tamer and gentler who go in for the
strong; and it is the stronger brethren who them-
selves constantly oftend in similar ways, who are
less willing to excuse. But who, stirred by the
eloijucnt and superb expressiveness of the greater
mind, would like to abate their robust outspoken
words into the commonplaces of the average man '.
An editor handles so many hundred discussions,
that controversies smaller and greater incessantly
arise. I cannot allude even to them. Only I
select two in which our Seminary was particularly
interested. One year there was an overflow of
feeling in the whole Church on the subject of
Foreiorn Missions, and the feeling ran high both
among the students and the professors. Naturally-
enough, the question so often agitated came up, as
to the salvability of the heathen. Dr. Seabury was
himself the instructor on the Evidences at the time,
though not a member of the Faculty. It was at
a j)eriod when many of his ablest articles were
written, articles very evangelical, jealous to declare
the lost condition and the depravity of man, and to
assert the necessity of believing in and of express-
ing the gracious influences of the Holy Spirit. lie
considered the subtle distinctions of the New
School and the neology of the German school as
24
undermining the foundations of both. He particu-
larly came out against the idea that the God of all
perfection gav^e a mitigated law, and accepted a
mitigated obedience, sparing not even his own
favorite, Bishop Bull, in the discussion. This arti-
cle on the heathen was a very long, full and able
discussion, filling a whole side of his Churchman,
setting it in every possible light, and sustaining
his views by largest references.
Then a sudden alarm arose, almost a panic. " If
this be so, what need of missions ? " An adverse
paper in Philadelj)hia, always ungenerous to him,
and very lavish and unguarded in all its statements,
published a private letter from a j)rofessor in the
Seminary, expressive of discontent, and went on to
represent the editor as a heretic, unfaithful to the
very truths he valued most. It was asserted that
Dr. Turner, the Dean, and the Faculty in a body,
had judged his propositions and condemned them.
By some unfortunate misunderstanding, the Fac-
ulty had given no denial to the published assertion,
and no explanation of it, though specially appealed
to. So after waiting sufficiently long, it was con-
sidered the fact that it had thus, as had been as-
serted, officially interfered in pronouncing against
him, " as teaching rank Pelagianism and pestiferous
jierversions of Gospel truth." It was for him and
»44<
25
his Churchman a question of life and death. There-
fore he \vrites as follows in the Churchman^ of the
(late of June 9th, 1838. He charged the i)rofessors
of the General Theological Seminary with having
(kq)arted from the Faith of the Holy Catholic
Churcli, these last AVords })ul)lislied against himself
heing printed in cai)itals, and he threw back on them
the WT)r(ls, and pronounced that they had failed in
the essentials of faith, as denying the fundamental
doctrine of Universal lledemj^tion, • that Clirist
Jesus made a full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice for
the sins of the whole world. It turned out that the
statements in the accusing jjaper were unauthorized,
that the professors had only acted in their individual
capacities, and that with much discrimination, and
w^itli no severe difference of doctrine or 02)inion.
The tardy explanation soon reconciled matters com-
fortably, at least; he retained his connection with
the Seminary more than a year, ^vhen he retired on
account of his increasino; duties elsewhere, and as he
could now do it without any reflection on himself,
liaving held the office from Deceml)er, 1835, to June,
1838. But never did he stand up more fearlessly
in his own justification. He, with his approved
Trustee correspondence, denied that it was the
province of the Faculty to pass doctrinal definitions,
or to condemn for heresy, that only to the House
»+«■
+■
26
of Bisliops, and the House of Clerical aud Lay
Representatives, witli it assenting, did sncli power
belong ; and that the Faculty had thus overstepped
its office. As individuals, they could say what
they pleased ; but not officially, as a Faculty, pro-
nounce definitions of faith, and determinations of
doctrine.
The other exciting and painful controversy was
that which grew out of the ordination of Ai'thur
Carey. This young man was admirable for his de-
vout and exact life, and his mental powers and ac-
complishments, as gentle, too, and modest as he
well could l)e. He stood upon the same theological
ground as that occupied by the "Advance " School at
present, so largely represented in England and Ame-
rica, by such men, too, as the late Bishop Hamilton,
and Drs. Pusey and Keble, and Liddon and Benson.
Only there does not appear to have been any
special ritual development. A serious effi:)rt was
made to prevent his ordination. The Bishop sum-
moned a select council of Presbyters to examine
into his case, and the decision was that he had the
right to be ordained. Yet even after this examina-
tion and verdict, Presljyters forbad it at the very
hour of ordination. But the Bishop proceeded,
considering the case as already adjudicated. The
excitement of opposition was immense. It even
27
reached ArcliLisliop Wluitely in IrclMnd, and parties
in England. Pamplilets upon ])aini)hlets were mul-
tiplied. Dr. Seabury, without admitting that he
held on all points with his young friend, yet justi-
fied his position in the Church, and maintained his
right to views which the Anglican Church had al-
ways comprehended. He stood out as the champion
of liberty, sustained herein even by the verdict so
honourably and independently rendered of the Rev,
Dr. Tyng. He ])rotected, by the admissions of
Archbishop Bramhall and other divines of the past
centuries, the right to the moderated views as to
the authority and interpretation of the thirty-nine
articles. He seemed to sustain his high sacramen-
tal views. He took a large part in the controversy
in the columns of his Clmi'diman^ and in the pam-
phlets of the day, ado])ting him as his own assistant
in the ministry, and when he died pouring out his
memorial lament in the sermon known among his
printed publications as "The Joy of the Saints."
So also in the treatment of students in the Semi-
nary ; it was evident that he had faith in the regu-
lar training of the institution, and its healing and
corrective influences; trusting fearlessly to the re-
sults of instructive argument, the disentangling of
sophistries and the corrections of misstatements,
the cumulative force of wise authorities, the remo-
28
val of prejudices, tlie alterative processes, and re-
sults the strongest in the world, and to tlie liealtli-
ful growth of the young mind itself, shedding natu-
rally its superstitions and its crudities, and its
frolic or dangerous eccentricities, leaving them at
the end in the hands of their own spiritual father,
and the authorities of the Diocese ; meanwhile, all
treated fondly^ jDarentally and indulgently, and all
assisted to the utmost of existing ability : no impe-
rious reproachful unwelcome, no susj)icious glance
or unloving turn or inquisitorial summons given to
dreamland poet, or latitudinarian leveler, or Cole-
ridgean mystifier.
I need hardly add that in all the painful trials
of his own Bishop, he was with him, the right arm
of his defense, and his chief comforter till he died ;
closing his career with the great sermon which he
delivered at his funeral.
Amid all the remarkable productions of his pen
as the editor, still this abatement must ever be
made to the value of such contributions. Admire
them as we will, as full of life and interest, and
pervaded by a magnetic spirit which sparkles at
the touch, yet we feel that they cannot be relied
upon, as if they were calm and permanent studies
and decisions. They are not altogether safe. We
dare not trust the great controversialist in the
•+«'
29
dasli of liis editorial pen. Temptations constantly
arise to overpass or understate, and to slur difficul-
ties not yet mastered or comprehended. They par-
take too much the passion of the time and the
hurry of the occasion, and the partisanship of
the advocate. The mind is not tranquil enough to
decide judicially. They have their value, but as
the years pass by, that value is abated. We admire
the points, the energy, the scintillations of wit, the
felicity of the expression, the word which tells, the
massive weight of the " Red Crosse Knight " in his
onset, the masterly movement on the field. But
for the permanent treasures, valuable to hand
down to all ages, we desiderate something of
another sphere.
This we have richly and abundantly in his
numerous, thoughtful, careful, ably prepared and
well-studied discourses, such as few divines have
written or could write ; which, cleared from local
and personal controversy, delivered on the most
important themes, presented before an intelligent
and appreciating audience, fell from his pen and
lips for long years, as the Rector of the Church
of the Annunciation. It was here that his re-
markable powers found their choicest exercise.
Here is a treasure of divinity; and I hesitate not
to affirm that his discourses selected, gathered and
— +
»+«'
30
arranged into some systematic form, would consti-
tute a body of divinity, tlie most full and tlie
most valuable wliicli our American Church has
ever produced ; a work, too, much needed, which
would therefore find its place in the library shelves
of scholars and of pastors, useful for all time to
come. It would not share the fate of the volume
of miscellaneous sermons perishing even in its
beauty. I know sermons are commonplace. But
when a mind of uncommon power ranges over great
subjects or fortunate texts humanity will be the
o;ainer. What would not the Ens^lish world lose if
Lancelot Andrews, if Jeremy Taylor, if Barrow, and
Clarke, and Horsley, and Bull, and Seeker, and so
many of the past and so many of the present
century had not bequeathed to us their treasures 'i
I heard one say, after listening in this very church,
" It is Bishop Bull in the pulpit ! " I said to him
one day, just recovered from an illness, that a writer
knew which his best and most important discourses
were, and that his children might like to know it,
and advised him to take five as the measure of
excellence and mark all his sermons with a red
mark accordingly. He seemed struck ^^ith the
suggestion, but nothing ever came of it. In the
delivery of his sermons he was without much ges-
ture, except the simple natural expression of
31
eiii[)linsis and force: simple Init earnest, and some-
times intense ; always weighty and impressive.
From these remarks I slide easily to the consid-
eration of the theology of Dr. Seabury. I need
hardly say that in all his general views he stood
upon the same solid ground with Bishop Seal)ury,
with Bishop Hol>art — orthodox, evangelical and
high. It has been said that he began his ministry
as a low churchman. Thei'e is nothing to justify
the assertion. His earliest impressions were from
the hereditary teaching of the family. His rever-
ence of Bishop Seabury was always very great and
controlling. The influence, too, of his friend and
pastor. Dr. Henry U. Onderdonk, was all the other
way. If he remained connected with the services
of St. Ann's, under the new pastor, the Rev. Dr.
Mcllvaine ; even if, after his ordination, he assisted
there a while, it must be remembered that this
was his regular parish church where he habitually
attended. True, he had once been very resentful
against Bishop Hobart, on account of his Pastoi'al
Letter with resrard to the Clerical Association.
But he lived to justify the Bishop's wisdom, and
to maintain that it was just here, in uncommanded
instances, that dutiful obedience to the Bishoj)
found its sphere. He had been very anxious to
to write the pamphlet of defence, but the Associa-
32
tion felt it to be more prudent to leave it to Dr.
Turner, older and cooler. But this was simply
a question of liberty and right, and not of doctrine
or church views. His chief principle and his
chief anxiety were Duty. He felt the force
of it in his inmost conscience. He very much
identified the Christian religion with spiritual
duty. He was really fond of the age which
we evangelical and high churchmen are so
fond of disparaging — the Tillotson era. The
Divines of that age did not renounce a single
redemptive doctrine. They made Christ and His
work the sole and sure foundation. But on the
foundation of sole merit and free grace, they based
a covenant of obedience. The strono- foundation
was thus too largely out of sight under ground,
nor did they sufficiently describe it as a living
foundation, like the root sustaining and pervading
every part. Thus they were charged with trusting
in a legal righteousness. Conscious that they held
the truth as well as others, they were not moved
by such aspersions. Duty was still the watchword.
It became national. It was consecrated by the
teaching of earnest men, by the hero on the field of
battle. "The Whole Duty of Man," and Dr. Samuel
Clark's ten volumes of sermons, masterly, clear
and calm, became the household reading of religious
33
families. They held iirmly to tlie Cburcli, its
orders, ordinances, sacraments, in the same way.
This was a recognized part of Duty. But they did
not grow eloquent over the nature, the beauty, and
the great virtue of the Church of Christ. They
did not magnify its covenant, or its office, neither
its grace, nor its means of grace, nor press details,
nor glorify occasions. Therefore, the higher class
turned upon them almost as relentlessly as the
other, saying that they did not do the true works,
nor hold the true ideas which the Catholic Church
of Christ had ever been zealous to maintain. So
they were accused of having properly neither faith
nor works.
Now, with much that went l)eyond this, result-
ing from some combination of all more evangelic
and more churchly ideas pressing in from either
side, yet I do think that Dr. Seabuey had a parti-
ality for this old-fashioned practical era. Duty
to God, to man, to ourselves, was religion, and
under one or other head he included the distinct
Christian verities, sacraments, devotions, and the
lawful imposition of services, usages, and directions.
But he enriched all by the contributions of the
great seventeenth century and the years near it, and
by enlarged discoursings, wide illustrations, accu-
mulated thoughts, and commentaries of profound
34
reasoning. Thus lie stood up a nobleman in theo-
logy, of the era of Duty; but at home amidst
the higher theologies of the past, and enriched
with the ideas of primitive tradition, apostolic suc-
cession, sacramental mystery, ministerial gifts, and
also of the " great Grace," and the " great Salvation,"
all so largely presented by the century which suc«
ceeded. He was too independent a thinker to fall
strictly within the lines of measurement of class or
school ; no such will comprehend him. He was
too many-sided.
In the Redemptive department, while he held
all, yet he laid it deep and brought it not out
caressingly upon the surface. It was the root, not
the tree rich and fragrant with blossoms ; and the
fruit was rather the gathered and cellared fruit,
stored for use ; than hanging in beauty and profu-
sion on the boughs, or trodden by careless feet upon
the ground. A perfect master of Bishop Bull, and
Dr. Waterland, he yet leaned to the former rather
than to the latter. The glorification of faith in
Waterland's rich evangelic page, " It cannot be for
nothing that St. Paul," * this was less familiar to
his style, than faith as all religious excellence corn-
combined in its very principle and accepted for
* Vide Waterland's Summary View of ttie Doctrine of Justification. Works vol.
ix-j P- 45i« Oxford, 1823.
Christ's sake. Yet when he discoursed largely and
generally you felt tliut he did justice all around,
and that whatever was comprehended in the reve-
lation of God, and in the reason and the under-
standing, was all put in — was all found there.
As to the style of his compositions, let me say
that it was a combination of strength, of easy flow
of language, and of simplicity. His sentences were at
once apprehended, and moved on with natural con-
secutiveness and uncommon perspicuity. He never
aimed at fine writing; never indulged in philoso-
phical phrases, obscuring the meaning or covering
platitudes ; in no pretty conceits or labyrinthine sen-
tences ; no mystical fetches. There was no attempt
at brilliant irregularities, " des incongruites de honne
chere, et_ des harharismes de hon gotlt;''''^' all was
natural and manly. In fine, few have equalled him
in grasp of intellectual ability, in power of system-
atic arrangement, in clear logical argument and
easy forceful style.
He wrote much in many ways besides those men-
tioned : in the way of counsel and correspondence,
and of oflicial document ; but he never laid himself
out to be an author. The works he published
were incidental, produced by the friendly request
or the exciting question of the hour.
* Mol'r.
36
His most acceptable and popular work is " Tlie
Continuity of the Cliurcli of England " wliicli consists
of two discourses delivered in tlie regular exercise
of liis ministry, furnisliing tlius a specimen of his
ordinary sermons. On this subject he had written
and published largely as editor, rej^rinting whole
volumes of non-juror divines, furnished by his
friend, the Rector of St. John's, Brooklyn. He was
therefore well prepared to add the important docu-
ments, and the more special discussions in the
appendix and notes, thus forming a closely printed
octavo volume of 174 pages. The date is 1853. It
is an able, practical work, largely consulted and
highly valued. He did excellent service to the
cause thereby.
A later volume of considerable size is "the Cal-
endar," of 225 pages octavo, published in 1872.
He gives an account of " the changes through
which it has passed, of the principles on which it
has been conducted, of the ends which it is intended
to subserve." He had nearly prepared this work
for the press several years before, and he at last
determined to finish and print it. A dry subject,
say you, on which we do not care to be informed.
But read it, and you will be surprised how full of
information and entertainment it is, upon a subject
little studied. I lent it to a young minister, who
?>7
sat reading it for hours in my study, aud I was
amused to hear him exclaim ah)ud every now and
then, " Who would have thought it ?" " What a
dunce I am !" as he realized that he had been igno-
rant all his life of certain sim})le things which were
here so pleasantly and easily made clear. I was
surprised to see how racy the pages are, rich in
quotation, in literary story, in copious illustration,
and in information rare ; the sentences clear, lively
and natural ; the instances telling ; dignity and
familiarity chastely combined. Be assured, if the
title has frightened any of you, and you have not
yet read it, you have a literary treat yet in reserve.
It is published by Mr. James Pott, his personal and
valued friend.
Another volume which he published in 1861, 319
pages duodecimo, was " American Slavery Justi-
fied." It was written with the hope and pur])ose
of setting forth eternal principles of truth, to which
transient circumstances and passions had made men
insensible ; and so of reconciling or moderating
our national antipathies and contentions. It was
written according to his idea and })ur})ose, not on
either side of the great controversy, nor, even, of
social or political science, but in the interest of
God's revealed truth, and of constitutional law.
In those days of terrible excitement it was a bold
^ ^
38
and unpopular undertaking ; but lie was prepared
to meet tlie alienation of friends, tlie loss of im-
mediate moral and religious influence, and the re-
proaches of the press, both on this question and on
the decided stand he took during the war and after
it. My convictions being contrary to his, I wrote
to him remonstrating, and reminded him of Bishop
Horsley's splendid utterance in the House of Lords,
which he himself had of old reprinted and com-
mended when he was editor. He acknowledsced
that on slavery, simply as such, he had thought
differently ; and that a man living long often found
cause to correct his views. Assenting to many of
his statements, and re2:ardino' the condition as an
unfortunate one, I had long before cast my lot
against it as such, and as -within the reach of
amelioration and removal. And I could not help
but see that the ancient Christian liturgies had
petitions, for those subject to it, and the recorded
exploits of the saints were countless in redeeming
them; and that the spirit of the gospel had its
deepest current on the other side. We lost not our
personal attachment because here and elsewhere we
differed, and we all respected him greatly for his
independence and integrity.
His other publications, " The Supremacy and
Obligation of Conscience," two sermons of sixty-
39
one pages octavo, were pnhlished in i860, very
able and discriminating, in whicli he expresses his
admiration of Bishop Sanderson and his admir-
able lectures ; whom he had ever been studious in
reading, and fond of commending. He published
also, within a few years, a particularly able and
satisfactory small volume upon the Blessed Mother
of Our Lord Ever Virgin: and a learned and elabor-
ate euloo-ium and defence of the ancient Church
historian Eusebius. Besides those I have men-
tioned incidentally along the course of the narra-
tive, he published several other pamphlets and
discourses, a comparative view of the teaching
of Churches on the subject of absolute decrees,
the position of the Church on the Atonement, on
Confession as held by the Anglican Churches, on
the salvability of the heathen, also, a Vindication
of the Essay ; a brief view of the origin and results
of Episcopacy in this country, written at the deatb
of Bishop White ; a sermon on the Relations of the
Clergy and Laity which attracted consideralde
attention : a sermon on the trial of liis Bishop, with
another entitled "The Calumnious Ear;" and an-
other on the " Slanderous Tongue," and contribu-
tions to the series of six pamphlets called "The
Voice of Truth ;" all of whicli grew out of the
"Bishop Onderdonk" controversy, witli several
40
large official docurnents of importance. A memoir
of Bishop Seabury had been expected from his pen :
he had directed his studies that way, and had
written somewhat, but he did not live to finish his
work.
Having thus brought forward his writings, his
published discourses and style, I may as well in-
troduce here — perhaps you may think for my own
amusement, and partly I confess it ; but mainly as
having indirect influence on certain more important
results — the fact that he was not at all naturally
sensitive to the charms of music or of ritual. With
a flne structure of mind delicately appreciative of
harmony and cadence, of measure and rhythm both
in prose and poetry ; having written, as I was told
and as I know, poetic lines not to be disdained, and
remembering his eulogium of poetry so enthusiasti-
cally admired amongst the Flushing youth, yet for
literal music he had no turn; nor was he gratified
if he came in contact with ritual demonstrations be-
yond those to which he had always been accus-
tomed. Like the great Bishop Kerr Hamilton,
although he had not a cultivated ear, nor much
" natural inclination to music," he recognized the
facts of life, and so, th<^ power of the musical pas-
sion and its extending influence, and endeavoured to
meet them by wise arrangements. He showed the
41
same wisdom in regard to propriety of ritual ; and
was strict to foll(nv the rule "Let all tliino-s he
done decently and in order." But, l)y natural in-
stinct he was not led in tliat direction. Even at
the outset, at his ordination as a deacon, Bishop
Plohart sent him out from the vestry to change the
l)lack handkerchief for the white cravat. What
the age now calls bare and bald and cold, was to
his consciousness simj^le, chaste, and reverential.
In a carriage with him and the Rev. Dr. Muhlen-
l)erg, I heard him make some remarkable confession
on the score of music. It was his constitution.
God gave it to him. I would protect it in him
and those like him and myself, as 1 would protect
the more expressive and demonstrative. Only this
I would have to be understood, that on such ques-
tions we must be ruled out of court, and our
notions and censures are valueless. With some,
mystic correspondence has a charm irresistible, as
with our beloved Bishop Odeuheimer and our
lamented Mahan : with others, the music sense
triumphs over all, or the touch is magical, or.
grand sentiment overrules, or .dry logic reduces
all to its subjection : with some the scientific or
the mechanical is everything : or personal aft'ection
leaves no room for reason : and there are those with
whom an authority confessed silences all opposing
■+«'
42
will or taste, or tlioiiglit. We will generally act
according to our instincts. And as age and circum-
stances increase the natural insensitive or repelling
instincts, tlie constitutional element may overbal-
ance the other compensating considerations; there
,are even occasions when the old hereditaiy blood
will reassert its own ; and when we are betrayed
into conclusions not deemed in keeping with our
past.
And now, I approach a difficult subject, and
with no slight misgivings of heart lest my own
interpretation l)e unfortunate, and 1)e not welcomed
as sustaining his true and stately position, and yet,
while I intimate changes, and that in a direction
varying from the strong current of his life, I hesi-
tate, as if I do not justice to my theme. The
change may be merely apparent ; it may be in the
times, in the relations of things, in other schools
of thought, in my own self, and my personal views.
He always maintained that where he stood of old,
he stood now in his consistency; and we will take
him at his word, and stamp his image from his life,
and remember him in the might and glory of his
manhood, so continuing to its close.
It was expected by the Advance School that he,
the old champion of Arthur Carey, the leader of the
van in other times, the old admirer of Bishop
43
W.Forbes' ^'' modestm considerationes,^'' would even
lead them on; and more than disappointment was
expressed when it Avas found lie went rather in
the opposite direction, especially in regard to the
Holy Eucharist. He had often expressed admi-
ration of tlie al)ility displayed by John Taylor of
Norwich, and he had great confidence in his favour-
ite, Water! and ; and they both wei'e accustomed to
justify the use of the highest terms, and yet interpret
thera in far lower senses. This was extensively the
habit of a large class in our communion. Sacrifice
— yet every common devotion was sacrifice ; the
Real presence — yet in the explanation showing that
a constructive presence was all that was intended;
^vorsllip — yet common reverential feeling met their
idea. But, in the later controversies, terms like
these have been pressed far more closely, and ques-
tions arose which were a test of one's exact posi-
tion. How possible to realize the "Tremendous*
sacrifice" of the Altar, when only the simple idea
of offered wishes had held possession of the thought?
how touch by faith ? or how bow low before a con-
struction or a sentiments So, his own course was
not an inconsistency, but a necessary result of what
he had really held. To judge otherwise were a
mispersuasion. Nor could he be justly charged
44
witli dividing tlie natures as some said, since with
him there were no natures really there, but only-
things and virtues, blessings and effects, grace and
glory.
If at last he was said to be in favour even of re-
strictive measures — he who had ever stood out for
a liberal comj^rehension, it was from some resent-
ment at the intolerance of certain of the school, as
itself dangerous to the liberty he would advocate.
I could not but lament, that in his last years, when,
to use his own affecting words " he began to breathe
at nine, and stopped breathing at three ;" when his
mind, with all its large, uninjured capacity, its ac-
quisitions, and its power of calm contemplation
should have been left free to ex23atiate in sacred
meditation and discourse, unbiassed, he should have
been pursued by circumstances of near and exciting
controversy bound up wdth personalities, w^ith con-
tacts and conferences, and resultant importunities.
The contiguity of irritating occasions cannot reverse
the testimony of a life.
So the grand Mississippi courses within its com-
mon channel, pleasuring the banks and shores and
the dwellers on the main. But, on emergency, it
rushes down in heavier volume, discoloured with the
spoils of forests and fields ; it overflows, far inland,
all its banks; it overwhelms orchards and groves
•+«
45
and liaT)itations, widely tearing up the very soil at
times, careering around, and returning backward on
its way. Yet it is the same changeless I'iver — the
principles which control it are the same ; from the
same heaven springs the flowing river in its beauty,
and the swelling flood in its majesty. One cause,
one spirit, one philosophy, one science, are there.
There has been no change, except to common mind,
of planter, on the bank; of settler, on the soil; of
newspaper reporter. Science, with its clear eye, its
subtle faculty, its far-reaching thought, owns no
change. Let this idea take absolute possession, and
how many apparent alterations and driftings will it
explain and justify in highest results of logic, in
largest movements of religion, in devotedness to
truth and God. Happy the real Catholic who can
say truthfully, with a debater of to-day "iVc??,
mo7isieur^je ne suis pas un nouveau^ je suis vnreve-
nanV Oh, why might it not be on one sacred
theme especially, that " its difiiculties should l)e
hallowed as mysteries of faith, instead of being
puzzles for intellectual speculation." * A heavenly
ladder reaches from heaven to earth, from earth to
heaven, and angels ascend and descend; and, behold,
the Lord stands above it. And the blessed Saviour
himself gave us the assurance that "the angels
* Rev. R. M. Benson on Redemption.
•+•■
46
of Grod are ascending and descending upon Him,
the Son of Man." Hear upon ttis, the comment of
the wise Lancelot Andrews:''^ "This is no strange
thing in divinity. ' A.d Christum noii itur 7iisi j^er
Chi'Utuni^ saith St. Augustine. With us, nothing
is more certain than that the end of our way
which we come unto, is also the way itself whereby
we come thither; one and the same unto whom
and by whom the ascent is made," Then, on the
lowest round of that mysterious ladder is the Real
Presence, as in the middle, as at the top, where
beams the radiance of " the glory of God, in the
face of Jesus Christ." At the lowest round is
memory ; yet who knows not its general and ten-
der rev'erence — often its passionate expression, even
as we tread the " dolorosa via ;" or, as in Oriental
history, the sons of Hosein weep in agony over the
remeni])ered sorrows of their martyr. Why might
not we take in the idea to allow and respect all, the
lowest and the highest, even as we allow different
degrees of knowledge and of Grace, seeing every one
of the rounds is the presence of the Son of man ?
With the two at Emmaus, our Lord Jesus was there
as well before as after his recognition; nor did he
disdain the true-hearted humble but unrecognizing.
And when we give the Pure Offering unto the
* Fol. p. sss.
47
Father, and our affectionate devotions gather around,
not all directed at the same ano-le, or to the same
very point, can Ave doubt hut that the holy Saviour,
" according to tlie working whereby He is able even
to subdue all thino-s unto Himself*' will attract,
and, by His Holy Spirit, collect and purify the true
devotions, converting that which was with us but
sincere affection, into worship ; re-gathering and
representing it in Himself unto the Father. Trust
we the Holy Spirit in His work. Our l)est is but
crude material of earth : by fire of the Purifier re-
fined and changed, it comes out the chrystal in its
beauty. He will not miss. Nor have we power
over the Lord's own ordinance to alter it according
to our wilful or imperfect ideas. It is in itself what
the Lord makes it, gives it, and designs it; no more
— no less. Meanwhile, may not the best and wisest
of us see
" What need there is to be reserved in speech,
And temper all our thoughts with charity." *
Dr. Seabury, after the death of the venerable Dr.
Turner, entered upon the duties of that department
at the request of the Standing Committee, on the
7th of January, 1862; and at the annual meeting
of the Trustees, on Wednesday, June 2 5, he was
elected the regular " Professor of Biblical Leai-ning
* Wordsworth.
-I-
48
and the Interpretation of Scripture " in the General
Theological Seminary, an office which he held to the
day of his death. He for a while united his duties
as Rector to his duties as Professor, receiving
no salary from the Seminary, but having only the
privilege of the house he occupied, until the institu-
tion, which ceased to pay its Professors for six years,
l)y some consideralde sale and leasing of its lots,
was able to resume pa3anent. Upon resigning the
Rectorship of the Church of the Annunciation, he
devoted himself singly to his new duty. He be-
came very much attached to it, and was considered
very successful in conducting it. He applied him-
self with close and exacter study to the Hebrew.
He would on no account l)ut aljsolute disability
forego his duties. Even when the physician forl)ad
him to leave his own dwelling, he gathered the
students into his study, where, on unfolded seats,
they sat around him. He could not go out to them,
they came to him. This punctuality to his engage-
ments was remarkably illustrated on his return from
England. He wished to be present at the reopening
of the Seminary. But his daughter was taken
dangerously ill, and she could not travel. Anxi-
ous as he was about her health, and desirous to be
with his family on the return voyjige, he yet left
them behind and crossed the ocean to be on in time.
49
Sliall we say tliat he sacrificed love and inclination
to duty, or, rather, that he glorified hotli in duty?
In carrying on his particular work, he did not care
much for minute criticism upon the uses of the
single word or phrase. If he did, he was masterly
in the dissection. But he did not appreciate the
value of the process. He did not, therefore, deal so
much in the way of ^^ scholia'" as in the way of
large discourse. He went onward with the great
current of the thought, not staying long to examine
with telescopic or microscopic glass, the trees and
])lants along the bank; the shells or pe])bles upon
the bottom, or the shore; or analyze the chemical
pro])erties of the water. The current of doctrine to
the outlet in the ocean of Truth — it was thi\t which
had its charms for him. He coutcl not, therefore,
avoid bringing in doctrinal discussions. In fact, my
Professorship of Systematic Divinity was what he
was made for; where he would have been most
wonderfully successful. I felt it so much, I was
almost ready to have proposed an exchange. Had
I known myself as well qualified and as acute in
that line as is our Professor of Church History, who
"surpasses," I should have done it. Assured of his
orthodoxy and great ability, I was always pleased
to hear that he was discussing such questions, and
Avas never jealous to keep exclusive possession of
•I-
»+«■
5o
my field, even where at times we differed somewhat,
I being more evangelical (technically), attributing
more to faith as an act or instrument, and he more
to it as a principle and habit. With him it was the
principle of devoutness and obedience ; with me,
more the expression of interior confidingness and
love, the soul pressing forward to Him and touch-
ing Him, the only Saviour, who is our life ; I
apportioning the privileges of the Church and
its covenant, to degrees of time and meas-
ures of forgiveness and grace, and treasures of
glory.
So far have I carried you along through his ofli-
cial, literary, editorial, controversial, and theological
labours. But I have yet in reserve that which of
all was most gftiteful to his heart; on which he
expended the most of his laborious and faithful
years, and of his lavish affection. Need I say here^
in this church of his beloved peoj^le, where, for
nearly twenty years, I listened to his earnest voice,
what that relation was. The Church of the An-
nunciation was organized for him in 1838, on Mon-
day, the 1 6th of April. He was elected the Rector
on the 23d of April, 1838. His services were held,
beginning on the Festival of the Annunciation,
March 2 5, 1838, in the building at the southwest
corner of Prince and Thomj^son streets, now the
5i
Churcli of St. Ambrose, under its faithful and suc-
cessful rector, the Rev. Frederic Sill. Here he
gathered around him a large body of intellectual
men, recognized as leaders in society and in the
Churcli for their own sagacity and ability. Here,
for more than nine years, he officiated constantly,
to the satisfaction of all; during all this time ex-
ercising also the office of editor of the Churchman.
In August, 1847, the former structure not being of
sufficient size or importance, this present Church of
the Annunciation having been in process of erection
during the past two years, was occupied, and here
he continued, till at the date of about 1867, he
thought best to confine himself to the single duties
of his Professorship.* It was no old established
congregation, come down, with its inherited families
and accumulated wealth, and its city real estate,
ever rising in value ; but he made it what it was ;
they gathered around him. Although he had no
great skill in the mechanical arrangement of a
parish, although he was somewhat defective in
commonplace conversation, yet, as a kind, atten-
tive, intelligent visitor, he was very popular and
acceptable in the family circles of the plainest and
most cultured; give him a subject, and his words
* He resigned his Rectorship May 4, 1868, after holding it for somewhat more
than thirty years. ^
■+
52
were ricli in wisdom ; in consultation, quite remark-
able ; eminent for liis good judgment and kindness;
often, too, quite pitky and telling in brief remark.
At Flushing we once asked kim wketker we should
take an incommodious house or be at board ; he
looked at us a moment and gave an answer we
have never forgotten, " Put your feet under your
own table." That was all he said, and this was
characteristic of his way. He was a great pastoral
and theological counsellor on important questions,
and managed each case in hand with consummate
ability. His simple manner and life, his unaffected
kindness, and easiness of access engaged the love
and esteem of all. He commanded the entire re-
spect and confidence of all, and escaped the ordi-
nary censures which attend so many less simple
and prudent than he was. His family was affec-
tionate and well ordered ; he was moderate in
expense, and so escaped pecuniary embarrassments ;
and never was there a slur upon his moral char-
acter, on his purity, his integrity, his honour, or his
temperance. It was especially as a man, as a
friend, true, steadfast, generous ; as one so natural
in unaffected kindness, so considerate, so charitable
to those who were in need, that he secured his
general popular esteem. Opponents even, who had
a personal interview and found him so sensible and
-^
■+"■
so obliging withal, left liim half won, and often
wholly reconciled.
To give a specimen of liis parish, take his He-
port in the Convention of 1854. He mentions his
Church as free from debt, except the mortgage
assumed by Trinity ; two of his vestry contributed
each the large sum of $5, 000, and a third $2,000.
The proceeds of the Ladies' Parish Society amounted
to $1,221, and on one occasion the offerings at the
altar were $906. The other offerings for the same
year were $1,689. An addition was made to the
Church for the Sunday School and the Societies.
In fine, it was a strong, prosperous Church, till
troubles of civil strife and warfare came on, and
his own failing health interfered. And the per-
sonal affection of his congregation was constant
and extraordinary.
Here how tenderly will he be remembered ; and
though his body repose in Trinity Cemetery, among
kindred, by the side of the lamented Walton, and
not far from the Bishop for whom he so earnestly
contended, yet here in this edifice will the Monu-
mental Memorial, erected by loving parishioners,
with the inscription " He fought the good fight ;
he kept the faith," be a perpetual and eloquent
reminder.
Honours of various kinds solicited his acceptance.
54
But he did not seek, and largely declined official
life. From Columbia College, in 1823, lie received
an A. M. causa honoris. In 1837 he received from
the same high source the honor of D. D. He was
a member of the Standing Committee of the Dio-
cese from 1848 to 1853, when he declined a re-
election. It was for his clear judgment and for
his firmness and for his attachment to the Bishop
that he was thus made a part of the Ecclesiastical
authority during the critical period in the history
the Diocese ; and on important occasions, and in
the preparation of important papers and docu-
ments, he was the one especially relied upon. In
1 85 1, the reply to the letter of the Archbishop of
Canterbury on the subject of the third Jubilee of
the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, was
from his pen ; as also the singularly able document,
entitled " The Prayer of the Diocese," both to be
found in the Convention Journal of 1 85 1 . Another,
on the subject of the renunciation of the ministry,
to use the language of Dr. Haight, was " of great
power in its analysis, in its logic, and in that
marvellous simplicity, and beauty, and vigour of
language for which he was so celebrated." This
was not printed. He was for years a Trustee of
the General Theological Seminary, a member of the
Society for the Promotion of Religion and Learning,
55
and of several other societies in the Church. In
1 852, he came witliin a few votes of being elected
Bishop (Provisional) of the Diocese. It was a
pleasant and honouring attention, too, when his
congregation and friends insisted upon a visit to
England, and provided the means. He enjoyed
this ])rivilege with great satisfaction. I remember
that he was particularly gratified when invited to
St. Augustine's Missionary College, where he found
himself addressed with formal welcome, and in
Latin by the students, the speaker at the close
turning and pointing to a picture, with the words
'' Clarum et venerahile nomenr He also turned,,and
lo! there hung the likeness of his grandfather, the
Bishop. He spent also a week with the Rev.
Henry Caswall, Yicar of Figheldean, the Rector
once, and the Missionary and the Professor of Theo-
logy in Ohio, in Indiana, in Missouri, and Ken-
tucky. The last time I met my old friend was at
Dr. Seabuky's house, and he, too, is gone, and sleeps
in Nashotah, near the grave of Bishop Kemper.
Dr. Seabury returned in improved health and
resumed his duties in his parish and in the Semi-
nary.
I hardly dare intrude upon the sacred scene of
the family, and the wonderful love that reigned
there ; where one still lingers within the precincts of
56
the Seminary home, who for nineteen years made
his house happy, bright in hospitalities to the stu-
dents and parishioners, cheering him in joy and
health, and comforting him in sorrow and infirmity.
Five children survive, the son and four daughters.
For some few years before his death, the Doctor was
frequently visited with growing infirmity and sick-
ness. His faith, submission, and patience were ex-
emplary. He continued to study, and even to work,
where few others would have ventured upon exer-
tion. During the Seminary vacation, he had sought
country air at the residence of his attached and
generous relative, Mrs. William Starr Miller, near
Rhinebeck. The week before his death he seemed
to enjoy the scene at his daughter's, at Piermont.
But even under (country air, and vacation rest, he
had not rallied ; and when he reached the Seminary,
he presently, after a few days of very great pros-
tration, breathed his last. He died on the same
day with the statesman Seward, and each was in
his 7 2d year. It was in the General Theological
Seminary, in the west building, in its east end, on
Thursday^ October 10, A. D. 1872, that Samuel
Seabury died, at half-past one, early in the morn-
ing. His age was 71 years, 4 months, i day. His
death called forth honouring resolutions and notices
of unusual number, character and beauty. After
4<
57
funeral services in the Church of the Annunciation,
he was buried on October 14, in Trinity Ceme-
tery.
" He was a burning and a shining light, and ye
were willing for a season to rejoice in his light."
When shall we look upon his like again ?
APPENDIX.
Action of the Clergy.
A number of the Clergy of New York City and the
vicinity assembled in accordance with the call of the Bishop
of New York, on Wednesday, October i6, at 4 P. M., to
take action in reference to the decease of the late Rev.
Samuel Seabury, D. D., Professor of Biblical Learning and
Interpretation of Scripture in the General Theological
Seminary.
The Bishop of New York presided, and the Rev. Dr.
Seymour was appointed Secretary.
On motion of the Rev. Professor Eigenbrodt, a committee
of five was nominated by the Chair to prepare a suitable
minute, expressive of the sense of the meeting in the great
loss sustained by the Church on Earth in the death of the
late Rev. Dr. Seabury.
The Chairman named as such committee, the Rev. Drs.
Price, Beach, Tuttle, Geer and Eaton. After a brief inter-
val the committee reported the following minute, which
was on motion unanimously adopted and approved, and a
t^'
60
copy duly signed directed to be sent to the family of the late
Dr. Seabuey, and to be published in the Church papers :
We, the clergy of New York, here assembled, admonished
and stricken by the hand of God, and bowing in humble sub-
mission to His will, desire to place on record these few
words in memory of our brother Samuel Seabury, Doctor of
Divinity, whose soul departed to its rest and joy in Paradise
last Thursday. We feel, of course, that no brief minute,
such as this must be, can express in any adequate degree the
greatness of the bereavement which the Church is called to
sustain, in the loss from her service here on earth, of this
eminent presbyter, scholar and teacher. For many years
liis name has been illustricJus among her distinguished sons,
and we must all acknowledge that it would be difficult, if
not impossible, to supply his place with one so profoundly
learned and so capable of making his knowledge useful.
And, indeed, this must be recognized as principal among
those excellences which made the pen of this great theolo-
gian so powerful. To make his learning useful, to employ
it in questions of practical moment, and render it manifestly
subservient to the cause of truth, was always liis aim and
direct endeavour. In his writings we never find it mixed
with curious speculations, or the vagaries of undisciplined
mind.
Dr. Seabury had a profound reverence for truth ; and tlie
testimony of antiquity concerning the doctrine, discipline,
and worship of the Church, was to him a supreme rule for
decision in all ecclesiastical issues. He was pre-eminently a
sound Churchman, and as such had stood forward in his day,
and served in the cause against extremes on both sides, witli
a vigour of intellect, a dauntlessness of courage, and an inde-
pendence of spirit which few have ever equalled. Wliat he
believed, that he spoke. Whatever might be thouglit of his
views, no man could ever accuse him of hypocrisy or dissimu-
,^ ->4«
6i
lation. As a thinker, he was remarkable for depth and
tlioroughness ; as a writer, for simplicity and clearness ; as a
preacher, for solidity and plainness. Those who have looked
up to him as their teacher in the General Tiieological Semi-
nary, though they have known him for the most part in
declining years and broken health, may well feel that his
place can hardly be supplied with a ripeness of scholarship,
a breadtli of mind, and an aptness to teach, equal to his.
They will feel, too, as all who knew him will feel, that they
have lost a most kind and sympathizing friend. For,
although it was not in the nature of this eminent man to
make loud professions, or great demonstrations, yet he was
in truth most tender and affectionate. There was about his
wliole character a singular gentleness, modesty, and sim-
plicity, as any one who knew him at all will testify. They
who most intimately knew him will assure us of their belief
that in his spirit there was no guile. He loved justice and
fair dealing, and was apt to take the part of the accused,
and if this sometimes brought him into sharp controversies,
they who were best acquainted with the feelings and dispo-
sitions of his heart, knew that enmity and bitterness never
found lodgment there. If God shall grant to us grace, to bo
as free from malice, and as full of charity as he was, it will
be well with us at the last. Nor in this alone has this de-
voted servant of Christ set before us a good example. For
several years before his death, he was a sufferer under the
pains and trials of a wasting, and at times distressing dis-
ease ; and never was sickness borne with a calmer fortitude,
or a more uncomplaining submission. He knew that he had
not long to live, and he endured the burden of his feebleness
and decay with a meekness of resignation and peacefulness
of mind to the latest hour of his mortal being, which bore
witness that no power could move his faith, or dim the
brightness of his hope. He did more than endure — he
worked even to the end of his day, and ceased only when the
'*+■
*+•■
62
night came in which no man can work. May that night, the
shades of which will ere long gather around us all, find ns as
well prepared and as worthy to rest from our labours as was
this, our dear departed brother, over whose grave, not only
we in this city, and in this diocese, but all in the Church
throughout this land, have reason to mourn.
Signed,
JOSEPH H. PRfCE,
ALFRED B. BEACH,
ISAAC H. TUTTLE, , Committee.
GEORGE JARVIS GEER,
THEODORE A. EATON,
Exceedingly appropriate and interesting remarks recalling
reminiscences of the deceased were made by the Bishop, and
the Rev. Drs. S. R. Johnson, Montgomery, Van Kleeck,
Gallaudet, Tuttle, and Geer.
On motion of the Rev. Dr. Van Kleeck, the Bishop was
requested to take order for the preparation and delivery of
a Memorial Sermon of the late Rev. Dr. Seabury.
The Bishop appointed as the preacher the Rev. Dr. Samuel
R. Johnson.
Extract from the Minutes of the Proceedings of the Faculty
of the General Theological Seminary.
Faculty Room, Oct. 12, 1872.
An all-wise Providence having taken out of this world
the soul of their deceased brother, the Rev. Samuel Sea-
bury, Doctor in Divinity, and Professor of Biblical Learn-
ing and the Literpretation of Scripture in this Institution,
the^ undersigned, his brethren in the ministry, and his col-
63
leagues in the Faculty, have met together to express then-
appreciation of his virtues, their sense of his loss, and the
value of his services to the Church of God.
The inheritor of a great name. Dr. Seabury fully main-
tained its eminence in his own person. From early years he
gave promise of the success of his late life. Possessed of a
mind clear, profound, logical ; of deep and precise learning ;
of untiring industry ; and of fidelity to every cause he
espoused, and to every individual to whom he professed
attachment, he filled successfully, with credit to himself and
great benefit to the Church, the office of Editor of the most
influential paper of the Church in its day, of Pastor of one
of our largest city Churches, and of Professor of the Exe-
gesis of Scripture in our General Theological Seminary.
In all these he stood out prominently from the ordinary
line of men. None who remomher his articles in the New
York Churchman, in the day of his power and their wide-
spread influence, but will accord to him the honor of being
the ablest controversialist of the Church in this country.
The manliness and independence of his course, in an unpopu-
lar cause, won for him also great respect. Not less did he
distinguish himself in the pulpit, where originality, freshness,
and vigour were the characteristics of his address.
But perhaps his highest distinction was attained during
liis long service as a Professor in this Institution. Here his
was ever a leading mind. His clear and acute intellect ; his
ripe scholarship, especially in tlic department in which he
taught, united with his general soundness in the theology of
the Church, were largely instrumental in sending forth, year
after year, a well-trained V)ody of men into the Christian
Ministry. By those thus trained by him his memory will
long be venerated and his instructions remembered. Cer-
tain books also, and tracts put forth by him, especially his
work on the " Continuity of the Church of England," dis-
played his peculiar talent, and will doubtless live after him.
64
As to the virtues and graces which adorned his life, much
might be said. In many respects, a child-like simplicity
marked his character, whilst an uniform courtesy that seemed
like the relic of a former generation, endeared him to all
with whom he held intercourse.
Of his piety it is needless to speak : simple and solid, but
ever seeking the shade, it was best seen in those charitable
words and deeds that so eminently characterized the man.
It is in view of these qualities that the undersigned feel so
deeply his loss, sympathize so sincerely with his family in
their bereavement, and deplore for the Church of God an
eminent servant whose work on earth is thus abruptly
brought to a close.
JOHN MURRAY FORBES,
Dean.
WILLIAM E. EIGENBRODT,
Professor of Pastoral Theology.
GEORGE F. SEYMOUR,
Professor of Ecclesiastical History.
SAMUEL BUEL,
Professor of Systematic Divinity.
RANDALL C. HALL,
Professor of Hehreiv.
Extract from the 3Iinutes of the Standing Committee of tJie
General Theological Seminary.
St. Paul's Chapel, Oct. 21, 1872.
Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God in His wise
Providence to take out of this world the soul of our deceased
brother, the Rev. Samuel Seabury, D. D., Professor of Bib-
lical Learning and the Interpretation of Scripture, while we
bow with submission to God's holy will, we bear our hearty
65
testimony to the faithfulness and efficiency with wliich our
departed brother consecrated his brilliant talents and theo-
logical learning to the welfare of the Seminary, and to the
elucidation of those Scriptures which are the sheet-anchor of
our faith.
His life and services were devoted to a development of the
great truth, that the Church is the keeper and witness" of
Holy Writ.
Volumes might be collected which would display his
astute intellect and argumentative powers ; and the name
of Professor Samuel Seahury will ever be associated with
the brave struggles of the Church on this continent, for her
true ascendancy and position as the pillar and ground of
the Truth, as well as with the noble cause of theological
education in our Seminary. He loved that Institution with
a holy passion, and, with all the embarrassment of his physi-
cal prostration, devoted his best energies to the fulfilment of
the trust committed to his care.
To remember him, and record his worth, is a privilege ; to
take to heart the lesson which his example illustrates, is a
duty : while we look up in our sorrow, and confidently trust
that this faithful soldier and servant of the Church militant
has passed to his reward of rest and joy in Paradise.
We tender to his afflicted family our deep sympathy in
their bereavement, and connnend them to the care of the
Father of mercies and God of all comfort, rejoicing with
them that our lamented brother and Professor died in the
communion of the Catholic Church, and the confidence of a
certain faith.
R. M. ABERCROMBIE, ]
WILLIAM F. MORGAN, I Committee.
ISAAC H. TUTTLE, )
■+•■
66
At a meeting of the Students of the General Theological
Seminary, on Tuesday, October 15, the following resolutions
were unanimously adopted :
"Wheeeas, It has pleased our Heavenly Father, in His
wise Providence, to remove by death our late Professors, the
Rev. Fkancis Vinton, D. D., D. C. L., LL. D., and the Rev.
Samuel Seabuey, D. D. ;
Besolved, That while we bow in humble submission to the
will of Him who doeth all things well, and heartily thank
Him that we have been enabled so long to reap the benefit
of their careful instructions and faithful ministrations, we
desire to express our deep sorrow that we shall henceforth
be deprived of them.
Besolved, That we render thanks to God for the blessed
examples of sincere and unaffected piety, and of deep reali-
zation of the solemnity and responsibility of their high office
as Priests in the Church of God which they presented.
Besolved, That we tender to the families of the deceased
the assurance of our sympathy with them in their bereave-
ment.
Besolved, Tliat the Students of the General Theoloo-ical
Seminary take immediate action to procure a fitting memo-
rial to the deceased.
Besolved, That copies of the foregoing resolutions be sent
to the families of the deceased, and that the same be pub-
lished in the columns of the Chureh Journal and of the
Ckm'chman.
FREDERICK B. CARTER,
Senior Class,
GEORGE W. DOUGLAS, , ^
T^. T-ii /-ii ^Committee.
Middle Class,
FRANK H. SMITH,
Junior Class,
■4.
67
Action of the Vestry of fhc. Gkicrch of the Annunciation.
On luotiou of Floyd Smith, Esq., senior warden, seconded
by George William Wriylit, Esq. senior vestryman, the
following preamble and resolutions were adoi)ted by tlie
Vestry of the Church of tlie Annunciation in this city, on
November 21, 1872, concerning the death of Dr. Seabury :
Whereas, The Rev. Samuel Seabury, Doctor of Divinity,
and Professor of Biblical Learning and Interpretation in the
General Theological Seminary of the United States, died at
his residence, in the close of that Seminary, in the city of
New York, on the lOth day of October, 1872 ; and, whereas,
he was the founder, and some time Rector of this, the Church
of the Annunciation ; and, whereas, while we in common
with the Church in America acknowledge the foremost
position conceded to, and filled by him, as a writer, teacher,
and controversialist, yet adapting our action now to the pro-
prieties of this occasion, we limit ourselves to an expression
of our appreciation and affectionate recollection of that
phase of his character which became known to us, in the
special relations of pastor and flock ; and this we judge our-
selves more at liberty to do, as the Church has already, in
several of its larger representations, spoken its high estimate
of him as Priest and Doctor. Therefore, we
Jlemlve, That the ministry of Dr. Seabury, in this parish,
beginning in 1838, and ending by his voluntary resignation
in May, 1868, so that he might devote a single attention to
the Professor's duties, was replete with influences of a most
edifying and efficacious nature. As a preacher,
" Though deep, yet clear ; though tranquil, yet not dull ;
Strong, without rage ; without o'erflowing, full ;"
rightly counting it a point of educational honour to restrain
and discourage all that is exaggerated, whether in language
or feeling, he aimed at being simply and severely true, and
showed the power of a master in the use of language. As
'•-H
68
a Churchman and Priest, obedient to authority, faithful to his
Bishop, uncompromising in his resistance to the notion that
the dogmatic area of the creed can be enharged by a process
of accretive development, he ever insisted that the revel-
ation made and delivered by our Lord and His apostles
was final and sufficient, but that the Church itself should
not be imprisoned within the narrow precincts of a national
synagogue. As a controversialist, " he fought the good
fight ; he kept the faith." As a Pastor, mental development
was in him the grace of a noble moral character ; his inter-
course with parishioners was gentle, natural, kind, and con-
siderate ; self-denying for principle's sake, he gave an exam-
ple of patience and dignified forbearance in a wider spliere ;
and let it here be testified, that with an ability for satire and
invective conspicuous among his other intellectual qualities,
how very sparingly he allowed their action, those best knew,
who, like us, were nearest to him.
Resolved, That we assent to the request made by
friends of the late Dr. Seabury, asking permission of us to
place a suitable memorial in this Church, so that such mem-
orial may be the grateful work of many, rather than the
mere official act of this Vestry.
Action of the Standing Committee.
This Certifies, Tliat on the 8tli day of November, A. D.
1872, the Standing Committee of the Diocese of New York
unanimously adopted the following minute respecting the
death of the Rev. Dr. Seabury, and ordered the same to be
placed upon the records of their proceedings :
THE REV. SAMUEL SEABURY, D. D.
IN MEMORIAM.
The Rev. Samuel Seabury, D. D., Professor of Biblical
Learning and the Interpretation of Scripture in the General
•b
»+•■
69
Theological Seminary, entered into his rest on Thursday,
October lo, 1872. He had been a member of the Standing-
Committee ol' the Diocese of New York, during one of the
most critical ])eriods in the history of the Church in this
Diocese, from A. I). 1848 to A. D. 1853, when he declined a
re-election. And this Committee feel constrained to record
upon their minutes their i)rofbund sense of the loss which
has fallen ui)on the Diocese of New York, the General
Theological Seminary, and tiic Church at large, in the deatli
of this great and venerable divine. It creates a vacancy
which seems irreparable. It leaves a memory which will be
ever dear and precious.
The Rev. Dr. Seabury spent all his life, without reserve,
in the service of the Church, and devoted to it all his powers.
The priestly ancestry begun with the father of the first and
ever-memorable Bishop of the American Church, and continued
from parent to son, expanded into its full influence in that
large, important, varied, and conspicuous sphere of active
work, throughout which it was, during a long life, most
worthily represented by this its faithful and true descendant.
Gifted by nature with rare powers, with perceptions large
and clear, and an intellect powerful and acute ; and possess-
ed of learning which, in other branches besides theology,
was vast, accurate, solid, thorough, and well digested ; he
was always ready to supply great principles and pertinent
facts, whenever needed by any question or emergency, how-
ever sudden or perplexing. His devotion to the Truth of
Revelation, and to the Apostolic Ordinances of the Church,
in their highest range, widest relations, and most stringent
claims, was constant and supreme. And his advocacy and
exposition of them, in language classic, terse,, strong and
pure, when combating subtle and grievous errors, and driv-
ing away strange doctrine, was vigorous and unwearied.
Eminent for this from the first period of his ministry, he
especially put forth his force in this respect in the rich
yo
and ripe productions of his later years. He elevated his
instructions to Candidates for Orders in the General Theo-
logical Seminary, into the highest rank of Sacred Teaching ;
and commanded from the many students to whom lie conse-
crated the best efforts of his mind and his great attainments,
the deepest reverence. Througli the press, his clear and
fearless inculcation of the doctrine, discipline, and worsliip
of the Church, and his masterly defences of their true and
jn-ofoundest principles, often amidst violent opposition and
obloquy, were eagerly sought for ; and their power Avas
strongly felt, far and wide, among the events and by the
o-eneration on wliicli it fell. In tliose davs, tlie minds of the
younger clergy of the Church were to a large extent formed
and moulded by him.
During tlie darkness whicli came upon the Diocese of New
York when its Bishop was disabled by a sentence believed
to be of doubtful validity, Dr. Seabury was summoned by
its Convention to become a member of its Standing Commit-
tee, then compelled to act as Ecclesiastical Authority ; and,
amidst the entanglements of the anomalous and unprece-
dented condition of the Diocese, and the new and difficult
questions which harassed it, he often came to its relief with
his powerful pen, and by his assertion for it of the true prin-
ciples of Church Polity to be maintained in its perils and
distress ; and so he placed it under obligations which should
not be forgotten.
As a Churchman of the age and land in which he has lived,
no name has been more widely and honourably known than
that of Dr. Seabury ; no influence has been more thoroughly
pervading and permanent than that which was wielded by him
over the minds of others ; no field in its history has been
more completely occupied than that which was filled with
his invaluable labours ; and no private individual has been
adorned with nobler qualities, or shone more brightly with
pure, disinterested, and exalted virtues. Affectionately do
+■
71
we cherish the remembrance of the childlike simplicity of
character and life ; the tenderness of disposition and feeling :
the modesty, humility and singleness of spirit; the anxious
consideration for the good of others rather than of himself,
which shed the beauty of holiness over the nice discrimi-
nation of the judgment, the wonderful keenness of the per-
ceptions, and the prompt discernment of Truth and Riglit,
in all their manifold relations, and at every crisis, which dis-
tinguished' his massive and richly cultured intellect. We
sympathize with his family in a death which plunges us with
them into a common sorrow. We mourn over liis departure
from us. We remember that, under all the weight of a long
and painful illness, he persevered to the last in his important
labours ; and wielded his great influence, and shone with
his bright example amidst the veneraVde age, in Avliich he fell
asleep in Jesus. And for this wo thank ITim who '' doeth
all things well."
(A true copy,)
WILLIAM E. EIGENBRODT,
Secretary of the Standing Committee of the Diocese of NewYorl-.
New York, November 8, 1872.
DATE
DUE
j-i'V
_l- ft
S^']^
^^^^
\J -
/\
r»T4 ft?f1fi
I
Cl 1 f tuu
GAYLORi;
PRINTED IN U S A
o
o
^^r-
^=^
c
T^rz
= S
o^
w
o —
r."i^
^c
v^-* —
- T'
'O —
, <
■-j]^
-J}
ro^
CO
o^
1
-<
r^o=
00^
=^=00
>
3D
-m
